a reason to live(66)

“Right here,” his voice whispered in my ear. “I got you.”

I struggled to stay awake, but a sense of danger was crowding into my fuzzy consciousness keeping me from falling back under.

“Danger,” I whispered back.

“Who, baby? Tell me who it is . . .”

“My stepfather . . .”

***

Shane went on alert when Maxine’s front door burst open. Standing guard outside Sage’s room, waiting for Maxine to finish with her, he drew his gun when Chester entered Maxine’s house.

Sage was recovering from her time in the water and a goose egg on the back of her head. They’d brought in Dr. Rhodes from the next county to stitch Shane’s wound and take care of Sage. Now Maxine was helping her change clothes.

They’d been damn lucky. The eddy had spit them both out rather than claiming two more victims to its powerful hydraulics. Gregor had been waiting to pull them out once they surfaced. He’d cleared her lungs quickly while Nelson had dealt with Shane’s shoulder. The .22 caliber bullet had lodged in his shoulder, narrowly bypassing an artery when it did. It would cause him some pain, but thankfully, his range of motion wasn’t affected. He’d been shot before, and this injury was minor compared to what a 9mm could do.

Shoving his gun into the back of his jeans, Shane moved toward Chester, who was followed by Max and Mia. The look on Max’s face was murderous.

“I just got off the phone with Richard Heller’s former commanding officer. You’re not gonna believe this shit,” Chester bit out.

“I’ll go and check on Sage while you men talk,” Mia said then moved passed Shane toward the bedroom.

Shane jerked his head toward the kitchen and both men followed. He didn’t want Sage overhearing anything Chester had to say.

In the span of a few hours, he’d gone from keeping Sage at arm’s length to wanting to protect her with his life. His feelings of guilt over Sloan’s death had been replaced with rage for the man who’d almost killed them both. Now all he could concentrate on was having Heller’s neck in his hands so he could slowly choke the life out of him.

“Talk to me,” Shane said once they were far enough away. “How the hell does a man come back from the dead?”

“With help,” Chester replied as they entered the kitchen.

“I know this is the twenty-first century, but as far as I’m aware, we haven’t learned how to raise the dead.”

“Heller’s body was never found. Under state law, he hasn’t been classified as dead, only missing. But after four years, Sage and her mother assumed he was dead.”

“So the bastard staged his own death and has been on the run all this time?”

“Looks like. But it gets worse,” Chester answered, looking toward Max. “You want to tell him?”

Shane turned to Max and watched his chest rise and fall as he tried to rein in his anger.

“The friend who called in the report about Heller drowning was Duke Stetson,” Max bit out. Shane blinked at the name. Closing his eyes in disbelief, he pictured the former Police Chief as he lay dead on the floor, Max’s knife buried deep in his throat. Stetson had come close to killing both Mia and Max that night. He was a rapist, a murderer, and now, apparently, an accomplice to a fake death. “They were partners five years ago before Heller’s apparent death,” Max continued. “Did Sage ever mention the connection?”

“She didn’t know,” Chester stated. “She told me he changed partners so much they stopped paying attention. And when he was reported missing they didn’t care who called it in. They just thanked God for taking him out of their lives . . . How much you want to bet Stetson was helping Heller this whole time?” Chester threw in.

“He’d have to have something on Stetson for the man to keep helping him.”

“They were partners at one time. Heller probably had a file full of dirt. Enough to coerce Stetson into keeping his secret.”

“And what? Now he wants revenge on Sage for her part in his downfall?” Shane asked.

“It makes the most sense. Stetson died, leaving Heller with no source of income.”

“Why not move to the lower forty-eight and start over there?” Shane questioned.

“Why do any of these fucks do what they do?” Chester answered. “He’s probably fixated on blaming Sage and that’s all he cares about. From what I could ascertain from her, the threats started a few months after Stetson died. His entire focus since then has been terrorizing her. He’s the cat and she’s the mouse, my friend. He’s deriving pleasure from watching her fear.”