"Jake went through the footage of Bobbie's parking lot cameras. They got an image of this guy. Isolated him. Jake's doin' what he can to give us somethin' we can use. He'll send what he's got to your phone. Let us know if this is the guy who visited Cher, sayin' he was Jones."

"Gotcha."

"And Feb wants you to know she, Jackie, Vi, and Dusty are with Rocky at Grace's. Rocky decided it's best that she took Ethan out of school. Since Jackie is on the list with the school to pick him up, she helped with that. She says they're all hangin' in there," he finished.

Garrett thought of Ethan.

He thought of Grace.

Another spike of pain in his head.

"Thanks, Colt," he forced out.

"More when we got it. Later."

Colt hung up.

"They're sending an image of the guy," Garrett told Mike as they drove.

"Good," Mike murmured.

A minute later, Jake emailed him an image.

It was the man who'd told them he was Walter Jones.

He confirmed that to Jake. Connie in dispatch confirmed it to everyone on the hunt. Jake sent out department-wide emails with the image.

Now they knew he was not the man he'd said he was.

And they had to hope he didn't know about LoJack in rentals or how to disable it. Though, if he did his homework on the ex-FBI agent he was impersonating, he'd know LoJack.

So, other than knowing he was not who he'd said he was, they didn't know d.i.c.k.

Primary to that being where the f.u.c.k he was.

Which was where Cher was.

And where Garrett needed to be to take care of his brown-eyed girl.

Cher "What's wrong with him?"

"Shut up."

"He's bleeding a lot. What's wrong with him?"

Walter Jones stopped frantically opening and closing my kitchen cupboards and turned, shaking his gun at me.

"Shut up."

"He's my friend," I chanced the whisper.

"He's an a.s.shole," Jones returned. "You don't want me in your town, you ask nice. You don't come and get up in my s.h.i.t. You get up in my s.h.i.t, I get up in yours." He pointed the gun at Ryker's body on the floor before returning it to me. "What's wrong with him is I got up in his s.h.i.t. And that means he's got three bullets in him."

Oh f.u.c.k.

Oh no.

Ryker.

Lissa.

Alexis.

f.u.c.k!

"Let me go to him, please," I begged, doing it not knowing what I would do even if he let me.

I just needed to be with Ryker.

I just needed to do that for Ryker.

And I needed to find out if he was still alive.

Jones resumed opening and closing cupboards. "Just shut up."

I shut up and looked from the chair at my kitchen table that Jones had planted my a.s.s into to Ryker.

I was too far away. I couldn't see if he was breathing.

I jumped when something crashed.

Jones was shoving all my stuff from my shelves to the ground. Bowls, plates, pitchers, everything crashing on the floor, breaking, the shards flying everywhere, hitting Ryker.

Years of yard sale finds, estate sale finds, garage sale finds, antique shop finds, my kid's cereal bowls, the plates Merry always chose for when he made us waffles or pancakes.

My life crashing to the floor, the jagged shards. .h.i.tting my brother Ryker.

f.u.c.king motherf.u.c.ker.

"What are you looking for?" I snapped.

"Cameras," he grunted.

What the f.u.c.k?

"Cameras?" I asked.

He turned on me. "That little weasel plant cameras?"

"What are you talking about?"

"That weasel. No, not a weasel. A rat. Did he plant cameras?"

It hit me.

"Ryan?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Jones bit out. "The rat. The rat who led them to Denny. Him. He likes to watch. He'd like to watch you. Did he plant cameras?"

I stared at him, breathing hard. "Is Ryan okay?"

"He's as okay as that guy there." He jerked his head to Ryker.

Oh f.u.c.k.

Oh no.

Ryan.

My eyes got wet.

"You shot him?" I whispered.

"Dead."

Dead.

Ryan.

I stared at Walter Jones.

The tear fell.

I should have known.

I should have known, with my life.

I should have known there would always be room for tears.

Garrett His phone rang.

He looked to it.

It was Rocky.

He drew in breath and took the call. "Honey, unless this is about Ethan, now's not a-"

"Merry?" Ethan interrupted.

The pain spiked, scoring into his brain.

"Hey, buddy."

"Rocky doesn't know I'm usin' her phone. I swiped it. But I had to...I had to..." He drew in an audible breath. "Can I go to the station? Maybe Tanner can come and get me. I just...I just wanna...sit at the station."

f.u.c.k, he sounded scared.

His boy sounded scared.

Pain skewered Garrett's brain as he beat back the fury.

"Prefer you where you are right now, kid," Garrett told him.

"I know, but-"

"Ethan, bud, I gotta be doin' what I'm doin'. Tanner's helpin'. Mike. Cal. Colt. Sul. My dad. Everyone. So I got no one to look after your gramma except you. Need you to look after Grace. Can you do that for me now? Look after your gramma?"

"Yea-" His voice broke and Garrett's vision blurred. He listened to Ethan clear his throat before he said, "Yeah. I can do that. I can look after Gramma."

"Good, bud. See you soon, yeah? I'm gonna see you soon, buddy. You hear me?"

It was weak and nearly inaudible when Ethan replied, "I hear you, Merry."

"Suck it up, Ethan," Garrett ordered gently. "Need you strong, okay? Before you go back to your gramma, suck it up for me. Go back to her strong. She's probably scared. You need to take care of her, yeah?"

Ethan didn't reply.

"You with me?" Garrett prompted.

He heard Ethan clear his throat again and his voice was a lot stronger when he said, "I hear you, Merry. Gotta get back to Gram."

"Yeah you do. See you soon. See you both soon."

"'Kay, Merry."

"Love you, son."

A sniff, then, "I love you too."

"Right. Later."

"Later, Merry."

They disconnected.