Evelyn closed her eyes, swaying on her feet. Cade hoped the kid would stay quiet. For the most part, he simply watched Cade with wide, interested eyes. As long as he had a bottle or pacifier, he was golden, and his mama was very attentive. In fact, she hadn’t let the baby out of her sight, except for the time she’d run to get his bottle warmed up.

Must be nice to have someone bring you bottles. A bottle of booze would make an amazing pacifier, because Cade’s leg hurt. Not like he would die, but it was sore as hell. He hoped the FBI agent who’d taken the grenade was hurting a lot worse.

And of course, Detective Stone wasn’t complaining anymore. He’d be long dead by now.

Cade stilled. Unless he wasn’t. “Fuck,” he muttered aloud.

“What?” Evelyn asked.

“Nothing,” Cade grunted. But it wasn’t nothing. It was a big something. Deacon Novak and those two Feds had evacuated the house. That was why everyone had left. And that was why they’d been so quiet, not speaking to one another.

They’d known he was out there, watching them.

And then there were the dogs. Dammit. Those fucking dogs. He hadn’t thought about it at the time, but not one of them had brought out a dog when they left Dani’s house. All seven of those fucking dogs were still in the damn house.

They hadn’t seen him inside his SUV and he’d switched the plates so that the vehicle itself was untraceable. The only way they could have known he was there was if Stella Brewer had told them—and she hadn’t because she really was dead—or if Detective Stone had.

The man had known all along that Cade had been following him to the house in Bridgetown, because he’d doubled back to confront him. He must have realized that Cade was looking for Michael and told the others. That was only possible if the detective had somehow survived and called them. How had he done either? Cade had shot him twice and had taken his phone.

Right now he didn’t care how they’d found out. He only cared that they’d tricked him.

Motherfuckers.

He realized his fists were clenched when Junior started to fret. He drew a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. To breathe and to think.

It didn’t matter what the Feds had known. It only mattered that he get away.

The doorbell rang, its sound muted here in the garage. It was showtime. Cade turned to Evelyn. “You’re going to go to the door and you’re going to tell the cops what?”

She licked her lips, terror flickering in her eyes. “That nobody’s here. That I need to get to work. To please let me pass through the roadblock.”

“And if they ask where Junior is?”