Jason dissipated into a dark corner of the room. He was grateful now for the tightly drawn blinds, the lack of revealing shadows. The room was not large, and he could not outrun a speeding bullet, but this was his bedroom, one he’d wandered at all hours of the night. Plus, he had a secret: He had Sandra, tucked safely inside the closet.

There was a moment’s pause, then Jason knew Maxwell was coming because the hall light winked out. Another half a dozen beats of time, the old man letting his vision adjust to the gloom, then came the first cautious footsteps into the bedroom.

Banging, directly below. “Police. Open up. Police!”

Max cursed under his breath. He turned toward the sound and Jason pounced. He crossed the room in three strides, catching the older man around the waist and sending them both crashing to the floor. Jason hoped for the skittering sound of Maxwell’s gun sliding across the hardwood floor. No dice.

Jason had half his weight on the man’s legs, trying to pin Maxwell to the floor while he grappled for possession of the handgun. Maxwell surprised him with his wiry strength. The old man twisted around, nearly breaking free.

The gun, the gun. Dammit, where was the gun?

“Police. Open up! Jason Jones, we have a warrant for your arrest.”

He was grunting. Trying not to make too much noise but aware now that youth was no match for a bullet and if he didn’t get his hands on that damn weapon … He felt the barrel dig into his thigh. Jerked his hips left, trying to roll his lower body clear while his hands followed the line of Maxwell’s arms. The gun, now between them, both of them heaving on the floor. Maxwell, getting his arms half up …

The closet door, flying open, Sandra standing there. “Stop, Daddy, stop! What are you doing? For heaven’s sake, let him go.”

Maxwell spotting his daughter. His stunned expression as the gun exploded.

Jason felt the first searing pain in his side, lightly at first. A scratch, he thought vaguely. Just a scratch. Then his rib cage exploding with agony. Holy Mother of God …

And somewhere in his mind, he was seeing the Burgerman again, the man’s shocked expression as Jason’s first bullet caught him in the shoulder. The man’s legs starting to crumple, his body sliding to the floor. As Jason lined up the heavy Colt .45 for the next shot, and the next …

So this is what dying feels like.

“Daddy, oh my God, what have you done?”

“Sandy? Sandy, you’re all right? Oh baby. Baby, it’s so good to see you.”

“You get away from him, Daddy. You hear me? You get away from him.”