You need to go. Disappear. Get out of the Spokane Valley and never come back.

They had his name. They would find him, eventually.

Get a new name.

Not that easy. He had some money, but it wouldn’t last forever. If they had his name, they knew where he lived. Where he worked.

And Brian Maddox was still alive.

Glen squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers against his temples. He willed himself to find the answer. Disappear... But he couldn’t leave. How could he leave his job unfinished?

You can come back. Come back when he least expects it. Kill Maddox and his entire family. Like your family is dead; take his. Be patient!

He knew he should wait, but he didn’t know how long he could live in the shadows. He would be running, running, running... He didn’t want to run. He didn’t want them to know his name! That ruined everything.

But one thing was clear. He couldn’t stay here. If they had the car, it was just a matter of time before they found his rental house.

He needed another car. Another place to stay.

He smiled as he realized fate would save him. He had checked into the hotel spontaneously Saturday night, mostly because he didn’t want to seem suspicious. But now? Now it would be to his advantage. No one was at the hotel because they were all looking for him. And he had the card key, so he could slip in through the side door and no one would see him. It was risky driving out now that they were looking for his primary car, but he had a backup. He just had to get to it, and taking his Camry was a no-go. Time—it would just take a little time. Then he’d park someplace near the hotel, but not at the hotel. In case they tracked his second car. Walk in through the back and wait.

He was smarter than the police. He would have a couple days to figure out exactly how to kill Brian Maddox.

And if he got a chance to take out that blonde fed who screwed everything up, all the better.

47

Liberty Lake
11:40 a.m.

When a cop was dead, it was amazing how fast the damn warrants started coming in.

Matt stayed at the crime scene long enough to meet with Jim Esteban. He pulled him aside. “You’re in charge. I want everything, I mean everything. Any resources, any people, you have them. I’m leaving the Seattle agents here to back you up. I already have Packard on board, and we have all the people we need.”

Jim nodded solemnly. “I haven’t gone through the house in detail, but I can tell you he didn’t use gloves. There are bloody fucking prints all over the place. And if that blood in the street that the first responders had sense enough to cover before it was buried in this snow is the killer’s blood, we’ll nail him.”