He peered around the edge of the bush. It was dark in this backyard, although the house had a porch light. He could see the cops—but they couldn’t see him.

But that dog could smell him.

He darted to the back edge of the property, racing around a shed. The next few back yards would be the riskiest. They were open, with only a few trees between them. He ran along the back boundary of the first yard…then the next…

The dog barked.

It was higher pitched. It was excited.

It was closing in.

Jesus Christ!

He launched into a sprint and headed back down to the railway tracks. It would take him longer to get to his room, but it was safer. The tracks ran through the South End, past the granary and down to the waterfront, where the Halterm shipping terminal operated.

He skidded down the slope to the tracks and then began to run, dodging empty bottles and twisted wire hangers. Several chimney bricks had been discarded just ahead of him. He could try to nail the dog with one.

But he was too scared to stop. The dog was a moving target. It was too risky.

A train approached, the tracks humming. He dared a glance over his shoulder. Should he hop it?

Fear battled with need. He was terrified of the dog. But he couldn’t abandon everything he had so painstakingly set up. He needed to get what he had left behind in his room.

The train slowed. He darted into the shadows of the brush lining the track. He did not want the engineer to spot him.

The cars squeaked and rattled as they rounded a turn. The roar of the engine filled his ears. He could not hear the dog now.

He watched the train disappear into the darkness, safety winding its way out of his reach.

No risk, no reward, Aiden.

That’s what his father had always said to him.

He had no idea how deeply Aiden had taken that to heart.

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

2:18 a.m. EST

The night air was humid, the air softly pressing on Matías Leon. He stood on the balcony of his Fort Lauderdale apartment. Palm trees framed the stars. It was a beautiful night.

It was a terrible night.

He had been unable to sleep, nerves chewed in equal part by fear and excitement.

Now it was just past three o’clock in the morning in Halifax.

Something had gone wrong. He felt it deep in his gut.

Where was Leah?

What had happened?

He stepped into the living room, his gaze flicking through the posts that scrolled down his computer monitor.

Any news yet?

WhiteDwarf, u logged in?

They should be done now.

Yeah, it’s been over an hour.

Anyone checked the news?

But no post from WhiteDwarf. Something had definitely happened to Leah. She would have checked in to the Forum by now.