Chapter 32

THIRTY-TWO

Maggie’s hands shook as she clutched the phone, her knuckles white against the worn plastic. The familiar smell of old upholstery and the faint scent of pine from the faded air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror filled the cramped interior of her Honda Civic. She hadn’t been here in years, not since high school, when this pull-off on the edge of the woods was a haven for stolen kisses and whispered promises. Now, it served as a temporary refuge.

She’d been driving around for hours since escaping her apartment, constantly looking over her shoulder, expecting to see the man with scarred face around every corner. The woods surrounding the lot loomed darker than she remembered, the faint rustling of leaves carried by the wind setting her teeth on edge.

Maggie’s pulse pounded in her ears as she gripped the phone tighter, her thumb hovering over the screen. Where do I go now? She thought, her mind spinning in circles. There was nowhere left to run, and the ticking clock felt like a noose tightening around her neck. If I call the wrong person, if I trust the wrong hand... it’s over.

The phone was heavy in her hand as she dialed the only number she could think of. Sheriff Tuck picked up on the third ring, his steady voice grounding her in the chaos.

“Tuck.”

“Hi Sheriff. It’s Maggie.”

“If you’re calling about your dad, I’ve got to apologize. I’ve been caught up in this mess with the senator.”

“Then I think you’re going to want to hear what I have to say.” Her voice trembled when she replied, the fear threading through every word. "Sheriff … they’re after me. I don’t have much time."

Tuck paused for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice was calm yet urgent. "Who’s after you? What’s going on?"

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming in shaky gasps. "It’s all connected—the senator, Crystal Springs, everything. They killed Sawyer because of what he knew, and now they’re coming for me. I’ve been running, but I can’t hide much longer."

"Slow down, Maggie. Start from the beginning. Who’s after you?"

Her heart raced, every beat like a hammer against her ribs. "I don’t know … all I know is that he’s got to be working for them."

“If what you say is true, best way I can help is for you to come down to the station. Think you can do that for me?”

“I have proof."

"Listen to me, Maggie." Tuck’s voice cut through the static in her head, firm and steady. "You need to come into the station. I can protect you. Bring whatever proof you have, and we’ll figure this out.."

She wanted to believe him. Needed to believe him.

"I don’t know if I can, Sheriff." Her voice was barely a whisper. "I don’t know who to trust anymore."

"You can trust me," Tuck said, his voice slow and calm. "I swear to you, Maggie, no one’s going to get to you. Not while I’m around. We’ll keep you safe, I promise."

"Okay," she said, her voice steadier now. "I’ll meet you at the station. But Sheriff, please be careful. These people will stop at nothing."

"Just get here, and we’ll figure it out together."

Maggie hung up, her heart still racing, but the panic no longer threatened to swallow her whole. She had a plan now, and she clung to it like a lifeline. Slipping the phone into her pocket, she pulled the hood low over her face as she pulled out onto the road.

Reeves leaned against the hood of his black Dodge Charger, the soft patter of rain tapping against the slick metal and pooling in the shallow dents of the pavement. The diner behind him buzzed with muted life, the occasional clatter of dishes filtering through the rain-dampened air. Across the street, the sheriff's station.

He pressed the phone to his ear, his expression flat as the senator’s voice crackled through the line, taut with panic. As usual.

“Dammit, Reeves! You told me you had her! You said this was handled!”

Reeves closed his eyes, letting the senator’s hysteria wash over him without reaction. His scarred face remained impassive, carved from stone. He’d dealt with men like the senator all his life—powerful, desperate, and weak when the heat turned up. He took a long breath before speaking, keeping his tone calm, almost bored.

“Hey, she slipped my grasp. But it’s handled.”

The senator’s reply was an explosion of words, his voice shrill with fear. “Handled? Handled? She’s out there, Reeves! If she talks—if she even hints at what she knows—the whole operation is blown wide open! I’m dead! Do you understand that? Dead!”

Reeves smirked to himself. Pathetic . The senator, with all his money and power, couldn’t keep his nerves in check for more than five minutes. He let the silence stretch before answering, letting the senator stew in his panic.

“Relax,” Reeves said, his voice smooth as silk. “I know where she’s going.”

The senator sputtered on the other end, disbelief dripping from his tone. “How the hell do you know that?”

“Call it a hunch.” Reeves didn’t mention that he’d tapped the sheriff’s station phone lines two days ago when he’d stopped by to brief Tuck on the senator’s speaking engagement. It was a redundancy plan he’d put in place so he could stay abreast of any developments. It served him well now. Maggie had no idea the mistake she made when placing that call.

“There’s a lot at stake here. You understand that?”

Reeves rolled his eyes, his patience thin. “I’m not an amateur, Senator. She’s panicking, which means she’s going to run straight into the arms of someone she thinks can protect her.”

“And who the hell is that?” the senator snapped, his paranoia bubbling over.

“Sheriff Tuck.”

There was a pause on the line, the senator's breathing slowing as the pieces began to click into place. "So, you’re going to intercept her?"

Reeves wiped the rain from his scarred face with the sleeve of his jacket. “Don’t worry about how I’m going to handle it. Just know that it’ll be handled.”

“No mistakes this time, Reeves. I can’t afford them. Get rid of her. Permanently. No more slip-ups.”

“You think I don’t know what’s at stake?”

“And the sheriff?” The senator’s question was cautious, filled with concern. "What if he sticks his nose in too deep?"

“If Tuck tries to play the hero, well … we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

The senator didn’t respond, but Reeves could hear the unease in his silence.

“You hired me because I finish what I start,” Reeves continued, his tone flat and final. “And I don’t leave loose ends.”

The senator exhaled shakily. “Just make sure it’s clean. I don’t want any of this getting back to me.”

“Consider it done,” Reeves said, the promise hanging in the air like a death sentence.

Ending the call without waiting for a reply, he slipped the phone into his jacket pocket as he surveyed the deserted street.

Maggie was running on borrowed time, and she didn’t even know it. She thought she had a chance, thought she could run to Sheriff Tuck and find safety. But all she was doing was leading him straight to her.

There would be no more mistakes. No more close calls. Maggie Pierce was about to walk into a trap, and Reeves would be there to greet her.

With a bullet.