Chapter Twenty

If there was anything Claire knew for sure about herself, it was that she was no hero.

She sure hadn’t been one the day of Julia’s murder, had she? She sat there and let it happen, watching in mute horror with her knuckles in her mouth to hold back a scream. Running like a scared rabbit afterward, barely keeping herself from breaking into a run. Not exactly heroic.

She hadn’t been heroic in the days since then, either. If anything, Luke was the hero. He kept her safe, took care of her, made sure she didn’t starve or set up camp under the freeway with a cat who thought he was a dog as her only friend and protector.

He had even come up with this absolutely insane plan.

She was no hero—not then, not now. And for better or worse, she was still in possession of her wits, which meant she was scared to death. Any sane person would be. So many things could go wrong.

Yet it was the only way. That was the cherry on top of a melted sundae. This plan of Luke’s—crazy though it might’ve been—was the only way out of the madness.

Her heart pounded hard enough to make her sick; her hands were slick with sweat. She clutched the steering wheel tighter, pressing down on the gas pedal. Her poor car was just about at its limit now, its engine whining as dust kicked up behind the wheels. She sped along through the outskirts of San Antonio, just like she was supposed to.

And she had never felt lonelier in her life.

Focus. Breathe.

This had to go off cleanly. There couldn’t be any doubt.

Ballard had to believe she was no longer a threat, which meant making him believe what was about to go down. She had to sell it.

“You okay?”

Brax’s voice was in her ear and it brought her a measure of peace. A sliver, anyway. But it was better than nothing. “Define okay,” she replied with a shaky laugh.

“You’re doing great. You’ve got this. Just follow the plan and we’re home free.”

“Right.” She forced herself to breathe again when she noticed she’d been holding her breath. Her entire body was tensed tight enough to hurt. This was only the beginning of things, so she had to calm down if she was going to get through it.

“We went through all this last night, right?” Brax was warm. Calm. Encouraging. He had that way about him, she noticed. His personality complemented those of his brothers. He was a sweetheart, a charmer. “You can go through the steps backward and forward.”

“Right.”

“Just live it out the way we planned. You know what you’re doing.”

“I hope that’s the case when the time comes for the next step...”

“You wanna know something I’ve learned?”

“Please.” Anything to distract her from the doubts circling her head like water circling a drain.

“You can’t think too far ahead when you’re in the middle of acting out a plan. You can only focus on the step you’re on and pull it off the best you can. Think too much about what’ll happen next and you’ll mess up what you’re trying to do right now.”

“Got it. That makes sense.” For instance, it wouldn’t do her any good to run the car off the road, would it? She focused on her driving while doing her best to make it look like she was trying to get away.

If anybody had ever told her she’d end up being pursued by the cops one day, she would’ve laughed herself sick. Meek little Claire Wallace, who’d never said boo to a ghost? Who carried spiders outside rather than kill them outright? Why would the police have any reason to chase her?

Life had a funny way of making the impossible real. Tangible. Nauseating.

“The bridge is coming up,” Brax reminded her. As if she needed the reminder. It took effort to bite back a snarky comment, which of course, would’ve been the result of fear. “You know what to do.”

“I do.” She pushed the car harder, forcing it to speeds it had probably never reached before. If anything, driving fast and being dangerous was a treat. She had spent her whole life playing it safe, keeping her head down, avoiding notice.

To think, it took the threat of being murdered to make her life a little more interesting. “All things being equal, I liked life the way it was.”

“What?” Brax’s soft chuckle rang through her earpiece.

“Never mind.”

The San Antonio River sparkled up ahead, a ribbon cutting through the otherwise dusty, empty land outside the city. It would keep flowing south from the springs where it originated, eventually hooking up with the Guadalupe River miles downstream.

She approached the drawbridge with her heart hammering, her breath coming sharp and fast. A glance at the clock on the dash told her they were right on schedule. Everything was going according to plan, right down to the exact time she’d reach the bridge.

And down to the car speeding her way from the other side of the river.

“Here they come.” She knew Brax could see them but felt the need to say it anyway. “I think my heart’s going to explode.”

“I promise you, it won’t. Just stay the course. You can do this. You can do anything. You’ve made it this far, and you can keep going.” Did he know how tense he sounded? How close his voice was to sliding into a bark? She probably didn’t sound much better.

The tires hit the metal bridge and made an almost earsplitting noise at this speed, but she kept going. This was it. There was no going back. Might as well put on a show.

She made it roughly three-quarters of the way over the bridge before the approaching car cut her off, skidding to a stop sideways across the other end, blocking her way through.

Claire slammed her foot on the pedal and the brakes shrieked. Her body pressed against the belt hard enough to take her breath away, but that was only a thought in the background of her mind.

“Okay. On my count. Five...four...three...two...one.”

Claire took a deep breath before she threw the car into Reverse and backed away from the car blocking hers, which she knew held Detectives Fisher and Arellano.

Only there was no time to get away. The drawbridge started to raise behind her, cutting her off in that direction, too. She was out of options. Her heart would surely give out on her by the time this was over, wouldn’t it? It had to. She couldn’t stand the strain.

Even if all of this was going exactly according to plan, exactly according to schedule. “It’s going perfectly,” Brax reminded her. “You’re doing great. Time to move to the next step.”

Right. So easy. How would he feel if he were the one about to do what she had to do? Would he sound so calm and reassuring if he was in her place?

“Claire. You have to move.” He didn’t sound so calm now. He was downright demanding. “Go. Now.”

Her hands fumbled with the buckle while the detectives got out of their car. She had to remind herself that Arellano knew what was happening. He was in on it.

Could they trust him? That was what made her hands so sweaty, sliding off the handle when she first tried to open the door. “Don’t forget your earpiece!” Brax shouted, and she was glad he did. She plucked it from her ear and dropped it into her pocket before she opened the door and stepped out of the car.

This was it. This was for all the marbles.

Luke, please help me.

“Hands in the air!” Fisher bellowed, leveling his gun at her. Moonlight glinted off the metal. Her hands shook as she raised them, her gaze darting over to his partner. This was not the time for a trigger-happy cop to get ahead of himself.

“Stand down,” Arellano ordered. “I’ve got this.” Claire could only hope he was right, that Fisher wasn’t as desperate to shut her up. She let out a shuddery breath when he holstered his weapon.

But that didn’t mean she was out of the woods.

She crept closer to the edge of the bridge where a low railing was all that stood between her and the water. Was it cold? Was it rushing fast? She could only hope not.

Make sure you go to the side of the bridge facing upstream. Right. This would all fall apart if she made a stupid, tiny mistake.

“I know you’re working for him!” she called out. At least her voice sounded strong, like she wasn’t quite as terrified as she felt. “Ballard. I know he has you both in his pocket. That’s why you’re doing this.”

“Keep your hands in the air!” Arellano was either serious about wanting to stop her or he was a very good actor. Wouldn’t that be the ultimate kick in the head—a double-cross on a double-cross?

What if he’d been lying the whole time? What if there was nothing wrong with his wife? What if Ballard had him tell that story to make himself seem sympathetic? To lure them into a trap?

No. There was no room for doubt. She had to believe. She had to trust the plan.

Arellano shook his head with a stern expression. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

One step closer to the railing. Another step. Her knees threatened to buckle. She couldn’t let that happen. That would ruin everything. “I do!” she shouted, and she let her heartache and disappointment and fear come out. And her disgust—deep, pulsing, bile-flavored disgust. “You’re in this with him! You accepted his dirty money, his promises, and look where it got you! This is wrong! You know it is! I didn’t do anything wrong! I never killed anybody—he’s the killer, not me!”

“Just stop talking,” Fisher warned. “This doesn’t have to end badly for you. But it does have to end. You can’t run from the police forever. Your best bet is to come with us, Claire. You said you didn’t do anything. You have no reason to run.”

The railing was within her reach. Did she have to guts to do this? Well, she’d had the guts to do everything else so far. This was just one more thing she would never have imagined before now, not in her wildest dreams.

“You’re lying!” Was she laughing? It seemed unthinkable. There was nothing funny about this. But there were all sorts of reasons for a person to laugh. Like when a situation was beyond the absurd, which applied to this situation.

The water was just below her, rushing audibly. Or was that the blood rushing in her ears? If only Luke was here with her. If only she could hear Brax’s voice again, but keeping the earpiece in was dangerous. Not only because one of the men at the end of the bridge might see it. The last thing she needed was for the thing to short out while in her ear.

“Come with us and you’ll see.” Fisher’s voice was deceptively quiet, bringing to mind a snake. That was what he was, too. A snake in the grass, lying in wait. Lying in general, in fact. She almost laughed again.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think I’ll make it to the police station. Isn’t that right, Detective?” She looked at Arellano, willing him to go along with what was supposed to happen next. Everything hinged on what was about to happen next. He had to sell this just as much as she did—more than she did. In another few moments, her part would be over.

“Just come with us, Claire,” he shouted. “This can all be finished. But you have to stop running. We’re not the only people looking for you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Her hip bumped the railing. This was it. Everything would come down to this. She stiffened her spine against the fear threatening to break her. “But Ballard wants me dead. Stop pretending he doesn’t. Stop lying for him!”

“Claire...”

“Have a little courage!” she screamed. “A little integrity! How do you sleep at night, doing what you do for him? You cowards! You filthy, lying, murdering—”

“Enough!”

Arellano’s deep, bellowing voice mixed with the sharp, sudden crack of a gunshot.

Oh, Luke. Help me.

Claire closed her eyes and went over the railing, into the dark water below.