“You had a nice head of hair, Monty. Until now.” With his left hand, he snapped the rubber band securing Montez’s ponytail and grabbed a handful of hair just above his brows. With his right hand, he positioned his Predator on the left side of Montez’s forehead and forced the knife across, cutting a deep channel, five inches long. Montez moaned as blood began oozing down his face.

“Professional question,” he growled in Montez’s ear. “Have you ever scalped anyone?”

Headlights appeared. From the left.

Nathan looked up as a sedan bore down on him.

A police cruiser? No, it didn’t have a light bar. Grangeland. Her timing couldn’t have been worse.

It came to a stop behind the cruiser he’d stolen. He heard two car doors open and close. Two doors? Maybe it wasn’t Grangeland. An undercover SDPD unit? He shrugged off any concern and turned his attention back to his prisoner.

***

“Nathan. Don’t do it.”

Holly?

How could that be Holly? She’s in Sacramento.

Silhouetted against the headlights, she and Grangeland approached the curb, but stopped short. “Nathan, don’t do it.”

“Holly. How— What are you doing here?”

“I never left. I asked your father and Harvey not to tell you.”

Montez grinned through a face covered in blood from his cheek and scalp wounds. “So this is Holly. Julio mentioned you, from the Clairemont house. Quite a looker. And good with a gun, I hear.”

Nathan voice held venom. “Shut up, Montez.”

“Tell me, McBride. Is she a tiger in the sack? I’ll bet she could handle an entire NBA basketball team, plus that cane.”

“Nathan, don’t. It’s what he wants.”

In two labored motions, he cut deep parallel channels along the top of Montez’s head that connected to the slit across his forehead. He could now tear a huge rectangular piece of Montez’s scalp back.

Grangeland took a step a forward. “I don’t blame you for wanting to hurt him, but let us prosecute him for murder.”

“This doesn’t concern the FBI.”

“Is that all I am to you now? The FBI?”

“Grangeland, no, I— I didn’t mean it like that.”

Holly softened her tone. “She’s right, Nathan.”

“Don’t—”

“Don’t what? Deny you your revenge?”

“This isn’t about revenge. It’s about justice.”

“You’ve never lied to me. Are you going to start now?”

He squinted, but said nothing. The truth? Was it absolute? Black or white? Where did it blur?

“So that’s it,” she continued. “I’m too late. You made up your mind a week ago. Then, go ahead. I won’t stop you. But you’ll have to kill him in front of me and Grangeland.”

He clenched his teeth.