“Of course.” Who could he tell, without implicating himself?

“And try not to let vice rule your life in the future.”

Will glanced at the screen of his open laptop on the kitchen table, a wave of guilt crashing over him.

That wasn’t a site he should be visiting.

Nor would he again—not ever.

Suz was coming back soon, he was debt-free—and the stressful situation that had driven him to once again dabble in an activity best avoided was about to become history.

“That won’t happen.”

“Glad to hear it. Next time, there may not be anyone to bail you out. So long, Will.”

The faceless person on the other end of the line disconnected the call, and Will drew a long, slow breath.

In less than a week, the yoke that had been around his shoulders for months would be lifted.

If he were a praying man, he’d drop to his knees and thank God for deliverance.

As it was, he simply thanked his lucky stars.

Spirits soaring, he crossed to the table, closed the tempting site, and continued to the fridge for a celebratory beer.

The nightmare was winding down.

All he had to do was come up with a valid excuse to change the work schedule for next week—back-to-back medical tests, or unexpected personal business that had to be handled during normal business hours—do a patrol in the vicinity of the barn each night, and doctor two tapes to erase the hour in question.

Piece of cake.

As he wandered back to the table, he popped the tab on the beer. The gas hissed out, releasing the pressure inside.

He could relate.

After months of mounting stress that had knotted his stomach and kept sleep at bay, the end was in sight. In a handful of days, all his tension would dissipate, as the carbonation in the can had.

A few more simple tasks to complete, and he’d be home free.

19

I THOUGHT YOU’D GET BACK TO ME last night.” Zeke pulled into a parking space at Ivy Hill and set the brake as he took the call from his handler. “What do you have?”

“The security cameras at the parking garage didn’t yield anything usable. But Hernandez left his brother-in-law’s house yesterday about three. Drove to a mall. Our people followed him inside, but it was a mob scene, thanks to a special event. The guy’s slippery. He melted into the throng.”

Zeke shut off the engine.

Cold instantly seeped into the car.

“I’m guessing Hernandez’s whereabouts are relevant to last night’s incident.”

“The mall is less than ten minutes from your condo.”

Too close to be coincidental—especially since circumstantial evidence already linked the man to the attack on Cate.

“So our people lost him in the mall.” He tried to curb his irritation. “I assume they watched his car?”