Carson had visibly steamed.

Troy had thought Aaron had nailed the description of Carson, but wasn’t about to say so. His goal was to get the men to confess to the heartache that’d plagued them for fifteen years.

“You guys won’t do this?” he’d asked in disbelief. “What do you think her family has gone through all these years? We have the chance to bring peace to a lot of people.”

“Are you fucking nuts?” Aaron had asked. “I’m not going to prison so your conscience can feel better. I’ve gotten over it and you need to do the same.” He’d poked Troy in the chest with a finger, emphasizing his words. Carson had nodded in agreement, his arms crossed. Wide-eyed, Joe had stared at the other three, fear radiating from his gaze, his wide face tight with apprehension.

“We were just kids, Troy,” Carson had stated. “We fucked up. That doesn’t mean we sacrifice the rest of our lives. I’m not the same person I was back then. I’m not going to give up my future for what my stupid high school self did.”

Troy had suddenly understood. These men weren’t going to do anything. They were going to let the wound fester for the rest of their lives.

Could he live with that?

No.

They’d left him no choice. If they wouldn’t man up and set the past to rights, then he’d do it for all of them.

You have to pay, said the soft voice in his head. All of you.

He’d decided to go to the police and tell his story.

But first his “friends” had hired someone to kill him.

After that, Troy’s plans had changed. His time left on earth was too short for him to wait for the police and the legal system to bring the group to justice. He would take steps to see the men pay for what they’d done. He’d prioritized his subjects. Carson went first. His high-profile job was used to draw the media’s attention to the cases. When he’d taken care of Carson, he’d been stunned at his overwhelming sense of relief and conviction that he’d done the right thing.

It was proof that he’d made the right decision. The voice in his head had wept in relief and expressed thanks. She’d been powerless for so long, and he’d given back her dignity.

It’d felt intoxicating.

He’d hung Carson out so everyone would see the error of his ways. The message wasn’t clear to the public yet, but by the time Troy was finished, they would understand.

No one gets away with murder.

Troy watched Rick and the woman step inside the bookstore.

One left.

Does Rick know what happened to the other three men? Does he know why?

He’d never been able to contact Rick to give him the chance to turn himself in. It’d taken him weeks longer to find Rick than the other men. Perhaps he should offer Rick the same chance he’d offered the other three. He shook his head.

Who am I fooling?

Rick was the worst of the group. He’d lied, cheated, stolen, and bullied. And that was just as a teen. Men don’t grow out of that. Any chance he offered Rick today would be met with lies and denials.

He glanced at his watch. It wasn’t even noon yet. He lifted his cap and ran a hand over his bare scalp. The odd sensation on his fingers was a reminder of his purpose. He had plenty of time to follow the couple and watch for a prime time when Rick was alone. No witnesses. It was one of his personal rules. It’d worked well for the other three men. He wasn’t going to break the rule for Rick.

A witness would force his hand.

19

Mason found the printouts under a stack of Ava’s papers about the Bridge Killer. Confused, he glanced across the conference table at Zander, whose focus was on the computer screen in front of him. Ava had stepped out of the room. They’d met at the FBI building to review the results of the manpower the agency had thrown at the Bridge Killer. The media, the public, and Congress were demanding answers to the death of one of their public servants. They managed to ask about the two regular guys, too, but Carson Scott’s death was the question on everyone’s lips.

But according to the printouts buried next to her computer, Ava was focused on finding Derrick Snyder.

She’s searching for Jayne.

Mason wanted to bang his head on the table. Ava had a job. And that job was to find the Bridge Killer. Why was she looking for her wild sister? She’d told him several times that she was happier and saner when Jayne stayed away. But now she was deliberately trying to bring the woman back into her life?

Maybe she’s just curious.

Of course she’s curious. It’s her sister. He slid the Bridge Killer papers back over the Derrick Snyder information. Why hadn’t she told him what she was doing? Was she embarrassed to tell him? Knowing he wouldn’t approve?

He got up and paced to the window, staring out at the traffic on the busy road behind the FBI building. The majority of the traffic was from the airport. Vehicles of thousands of people who’d been traveling passed by, or friends and family doing the kind thing by offering the travelers rides. All those people going about their daily lives while he sat alone and looked for a killer.

You’re not alone anymore.

Ava had stepped into a gaping hole in his life he hadn’t realized existed. He knew she was a hell of an agent, but what did he know of her personally? Her coworkers liked her. That was a plus. They’d spent tons of hours in conversations since they’d met. They’d bared their souls to each other. He’d thought he knew what was going on in her head, but did he really?