by K. M. Hodge
“What if I arrest you?” Mari looked at Sally and the room stilled.
“Are you arresting me?” A predatory challenge flashed across Sally’s eyes.
“If I need to, I can.”
Sally stiffened and clenched her fists into tight balls. “I wouldn’t recommend that.”
For a moment, a tense silence fell over the room.
Jason wet his lips and sat forward, leaning against his knees. “Ladies, can we focus on the issue at hand. A young man’s life is at stake. I don’t think anyone in this room gives a shit as to what Charles and Scott do to each other at this point, but can we all agree that Zane needs to be taken out of the line of fire?”
Everyone in the room regarded him in silence. For once, maybe they could table the whole discussion of vigilantism versus the law. All he cared about right now was ensuring the safety of his stepson.
“I’ll start looking through the missed-connection ads,” Sally said.
“I’ll look through DMV records and see if I can’t find anything connected with Charles,” Mari said.
Sally nodded. “He would be using a vehicle of someone from Ocean City. None of them use the automated services. They all still drive old town cars, luxury sedans and limos. As you can imagine, they don’t exactly want the government knowing where they are at all times.” She continued staring at her mini.
Mari glanced up and nodded. “Good to know. Thank you.”
Sally paused in her swiping. “I may have found something, but I can’t be sure.” She stood and walked out of the room, returning a moment later with her book of poetry. She flipped to the back and scanned the notes scribbled there.
“What is it?” Jason asked.
Sally’s face paled and she looked up at him. “I think they’re meeting at the pipeline, though it will take me awhile to decipher the time. It’s where they killed and disposed of Billy.”
“I can send some officers to comb the area—”
“No!” Sally paled at the suggestion. “Scott will smell the cops a mile away. No offense, but you guys are as subtle as a bad car salesman.”
A slow smile crept up the sides of Mari’s mouth. “No offense taken.”
***
Hollywood Cemetery
Richmond, Virginia
July 19, 2026
8:00 PM
~~~
Zane followed behind Charles. Despite the setting sun, he was covered in a fine sheen of sweat. They walked for what seemed like forever through the winding rows of graves and mausoleums. They passed by the Iron Dog and walked towards the back of the cemetery, to where a giant tree’s boughs shaded a row of graves.
As they got closer, he realized what they were going to see. “My biological father’s grave.” He pointed ahead. “His wife and their dead son.”
Charles nodded. “I want to pay my respects in case I don’t make it, or I get put away again until I die.”
“Your ex-wife....”
“Yeah,” Charles said, his voice shaking.
Zane followed, not eager to see the graves of the father and brother he’d never known. A feeling of loss washed over him, confusing his senses. They sat down in front of the graves and read the stones etched with his family’s names, and a swell of emotion bubbled up and choked him. He bit his lip.
Beside him, Charles sat with tears streaming down his face, which he didn’t bother to wipe away. “I never got to say I was sorry. Not really. Not to her face. Not that she would have listened or believed me.”
Zane tucked his legs underneath him and stared ahead at the etching of his father’s name. “Alexander Bailey Espinosa.” His brother’s name had been Bailey, too. “There was something about the book that did surprise me.”
Charles turned to face him. “Oh?”
“There’s a whole part of my history that I never knew existed. My father wasn’t just some bum by mom found in a bar one day.”
“No, he was a good man. I don’t know if he believed that, but the really great ones never do. I hated him for a long time for stealing my wife away from me, but then when she... when she....”
“When she was attacked?”
Charles nodded. “Everything that happened to her was my fault. She almost died and it was all my fault. I loved her more than the air I breathed, but I took her for granted and made her miserable.”
“You sound like a therapist.”
“Well, when you’re under house arrest, it gives you a lot of time to think things over.”
From behind them, Henry said, “It’s time to go.”
Zane looked up and watched the sun continue its gradual decline in the sky. A shiver ran through him, and he looked back down at his father’s tombstone. With the future unknown, he needed to find a way to forgive his mother for all the hurts she’d caused him over the years.
And, if he lived through this ordeal, he would tell her he loved her. He didn’t want to tell Charles, but the book, told through Jason’s love-struck eyes, had put his mother’s case in another light for him.
He stood and stacked three stones in a cairn over the headstone, like he had seen her do on his grandparents’ graves. If his mother saw it, she would know he’d been there. He shoved his hands into his pockets and fingered the watch—fiddling with the face.
Henry started down the path to where he’d parked the car.
Charles paused on the path and looked at his smart watch, answering an incoming call. “Charles speaking.”
A voice Zane didn’t recognize came over the speaker. “Hey, boss, Jude’s been put in solitary. We searched him but his watch isn’t on him.”
Zane’s stomach wrenched into knots. He turned from Charles and tossed the watch into the tall grass that circled the tree.
So much for my phone-a-friend. Now I really am on my own.
“Thanks for the update. Anything looking fishy on the satellite footage?” Charles glanced back at Zane.
“No, nothing yet. As far as we can tell, Scott isn’t even there, but the trees are dense, so that doesn’t mean anything. We haven’t seen any cops or any tourists milling about.”
“That’s odd.”
“The park is closed because of some repairs being done on a water main.”
“Okay, so how do we get in?”
“The Reedy Creek entrance or the 12th Street entrance is your best bet. The construction workers are all parked at the 22nd Street entrance.”
Charles nodded and squinted into the setting sun. “Okay, call me if anything else changes. We’re heading out now.”
“Good luck, boss.”
Charles ended the call and charged towards Zane. “Empty out your pockets.”
Zane pulled his pockets out like sad puppy dog ears, and Charles patted him down until he was satisfied he didn’t have anything on him.
Giving Zane one last look, he said, “Time to go.”
Zane’s heart hammered in his chest, but he tried to keep his breathing under control. He couldn’t afford to tip Charles off. He could only hope his mother would get the message and maybe send for help. Or, at the very least, she might know that he knew the truth now about the role his ma played in helping to stop The Syndicate, and that he wasn’t just an Ocean City street rat. No, he was born of something else, and hoped for something better.
He looked back one last time at his father’s grave and wished, for a moment, that he might be watching over him. Zane said a quick prayer and crossed himself as the sun sank below the horizon.
***
St. Rita’s Hospital
Danville, Virginia
July 19, 2026
8:00 PM
~~~
Jason rested his head against the back of the sofa. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since this all began, but the toll of the last few weeks was felt by everyone. Julie had sent her father to bed an hour ago; Jason wished someone would do the same for him so he wouldn’t have to face it alone.
“I’m getting something.” Sally’s sleep-
slackened face perked up for a minute. “Nope, never mind, it’s gone. The GPS keeps switching on and off like someone is turning the face back and forth.”
Jason grunted. If he didn’t move too much, the throbbing in his head was only a small nuisance. “Did you get a fix on the location before it went back off?”
“Sort of. I’m working on it. Jude is better at this than I am.” Sally fiddled again with the watch.
Mari shifted from her spot on the sofa. “Henry Hodge. Does that name mean anything to you?”
Jason opened his eyes and sat up. “Yeah, that’s the name of the guard who imprisoned me in the cabin last summer.”
“He has a white Lincoln Town Car registered in his wife’s name.” Mari stood and handed over her mini to Jason and Sally. “Traffic cams picked up the vehicle on the move in Richmond just outside the Hollywood Cemetery, heading to the pipeline.”
Jason could feel Sally stiffen beside him. He wrapped his arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
Mari slipped her shoes back on and checked the time. “I know you don’t want me to send officers, but with traffic, it’ll take me forever to get there. Are you sure about sending someone on ahead of me?”
Sally sprung up from her seat. “Don’t you dare fuck this up and get my boy killed! I don’t care if you’re a cop. I’ll take you out.”
Jason stood and pulled Sally back. “Maybe have some uniforms on standby, but I agree that Scott is smart and will know if the police are there. It’ll go south really quick, and none of us wants that to happen.”
Mari bit her lip and nodded. “I’m going to bring your son back to you, Sally. I promise.”
Jason held his wife tightly to his chest, wishing Mari hadn’t promised. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if she couldn’t keep it.
“Let me know if you hear anything more, and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
Jason closed his eyes and held his trembling wife as her body coiled against his, ready to pounce.
Please, God, bring the boy back.
Chapter 18
Pipeline Rapids Walkway
Richmond, Virginia
July 19, 2026
9:45 PM
~~~
A light drizzle started to fall as they made their way down the darkened path, and Charles turned on his watch to light the way. They were twenty minutes into the walk with no sign of Scott anywhere.
Zane’s razor-sharp nerves left his body tense and ready to bolt at any provocation. Henry had stayed behind in the car at Charles’s command—a disadvantage as far as Zane saw it. Was this another one of Scott’s stupid rules?
“Calm down, kid. You’re breathing like you’re running a marathon,” Charles scolded.
Zane bit his lip and worked to take in deep, quiet breaths. “Sorry, I’ve never murdered anyone before.”
The old man looked over his shoulder. “Just keep quiet and stay close.”
A whoosh of air and a blur of black knocked Zane back onto his ass.
Scott hung from a tree above them like a damn guerilla warrior. “I think you guys have done enough walking in circles, don’t you?” He landed on his feet.
Charles swung at Scott and missed.
“Seriously, Charles, is this the best you can do?”
Scott’s smile sickened Zane.
Charles swung again, but Scott dodged and came back with a counter strike, catching his nemesis on the side of the head.
Shit. Zane scrambled to his feet.
The light from Charles’ watch fell across Scott’s sinister smile. “Two against one is hardly fair. We’ll need to do something about that.” He jumped and grabbed hold of the branch above him.
Zane dove off the hiking path and into the brush. Damn, he’s fast.
The click of Charles’ gun safety echoed over their panting breaths. Each man stilled.
“What did I tell you about guns!” Scott’s foot swept across in a blur and the firearm discharged into the woods. “Now that’s more like it.”
“Don’t just stand there, kid!” Charles shouted.
Zane rushed at Scott, who sidestepped and kicked him in the kidney as he passed, knocking him to the ground. The pain of the attack incapacitated Zane, and he stayed on the ground. “Fuck.”
Charles threw a punch, this one finally connecting with Scott and knocking him back a few steps.
He swayed but stayed on his feet, a wide grin crossing his face.
Zane wondered if he might be high on something.
“Took you long enough.” Scott inched closer, and Charles landed another blow to his cheek. This one seemed to stun Scott more, and he spit into the brush. “Is that the best you got?” The crazy man backed up farther still, holding his fighting stance.
The pain in Zane’s side began to subside and he searched the ground around his feet. Despite the darkness, his hand found a rock small enough to pick up, but large enough to do some damage. He lifted it over his head and waited.
Charles continued stalking Scott, who backed up closer to Zane’s position.
As Scott stepped back to dodge a punch, Zane smashed the rock against the back of the lunatic’s head, causing him to crumple to the ground at their feet.
Charles shined his light on Scott’s body; his arms were covered in track marks.
“He’s using,” Zane said, pointing to the marks. “Is he dead?”
“No, you just knocked him out. Took you long enough. What the fuck?”
Scott started to stir awake, but Charles reached down, grabbed him by the shirt collar, and punched him.
Scott grunted from the impact, but seemed only a little dazed. The light from Charles’ watch dimmed, but caught a flash of something in Scott’s hand—a knife.
“Charles!”
Too late. Scott swiped the blade, catching the old man in the gut.
“No!” Zane screamed.
“Ugh.” Charles doubled over, clutching his stomach.
Scott scrambled to his feet and turned to face Zane.
Run! Run, you idiot.
“You’re next, son.” Scott wiped the knife clean on the tail of his shirt.
Zane turned and ran. Tree branches smacked him, stinging his face and hands. He bolted over tree limbs, dense undergrowth and slick rotting leaves. He could hear the crackle of brush and Scott’s panting not far behind; the blow to the head had only seemed to daze Scott.
He must be high on something.
“Come on, son, I’ll make it quick,” Scott called out to him.
Zane continued crashing through the brush, which eventually opened up back onto the path. The need to move faster caused him to stumble forward, and he caught his fall with the palms of his hands, making them sting. He wasted not a second scrambling to his feet, slipping and sliding on the loose gravel. If he didn’t keep running, he would surely die.
The path turned and opened up to a narrow bridge. His shoe caught and he fell again, this time hitting his head on the railing. The adrenaline did little to cut the searing pain. He tried to get back up but his legs refused to cooperate, and the erratic sway of the narrow bridge threatened to toss him over into the foamy water below.
He heard Scott creep slowly towards him. “Ya gonna jump?”
Zane pulled himself to his feet and stumbled back.
“Come on. Fight me. Didn’t your old man teach you anything?”
“I’m not fighting you,” Zane said between clenched teeth.
“Well, then you’re going to end up in the St. James like your old man.”
His words hit Zane like a bucket of ice water, fueling his determination to not give the man what he wanted.
“Come on, boy, show me what you can do.” Scott’s mouth curled up into a snarl—like a feral dog. He didn’t simply want Zane to die. He wanted to inflict some serious damage first.
Scott squared off his stance and swung the knife’s blade, catching Zane across his chest—a shallow cut, but damn if it didn’t sting.
Za
ne stumbled back, shifting his weight and throwing off his center of balance. He grasped hold of the metal railing, but his feet slipped on the slick ground. “It doesn’t have to end this way.”
Scott’s sinister stare bore into him. “That’s where you’re wrong. Either you kill me or I kill you. You could kill yourself, but that would take all the fun out of this. Those are the only three options.”
The knife sliced through the air again and into Zane’s bicep, and he lost his grip on the railing. As Scott crept closer, he tried to calm his breathing.
When Scott was within spitting distance, Zane kicked out and caught the bastard hard between the legs.
Scott gasped and doubled over, cupping his balls with one hand and the railing with the other. “Well....” He sucked in a breath. “Maybe you’ve got some fight after all.”
Zane backed up, slipping and sliding on the slick bridge. Before he could get too far, Scott’s steel boot caught him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He crumbled to the ground onto his side and gasped for air as his diaphragm contracted, his mouth hanging open in a silent scream. He looked up to see Scott’s foot coming down on his head, and covered himself with his arms in time to protect his head from the brunt of the blow.
I’m going to die.
A crack and whine sounded over the roar of the water. The kicking stopped, and Zane looked up from the ground.
Scott clung to the rail. A mixed look of surprise and rage swept across his face, as blood blossomed from a wound on his shoulder.
Despite his burning muscles and blood pouring from his own wounds at an alarming rate, Zane crab-walked backwards, putting some distance between them.
Scott gripped the railing, turning his back to Zane.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in. You look like shit, Charles.” Scott staggered forward, away from Zane. “What did I tell you about bringing guns to a knife fight!” he yelled above the roar of the water. “Come and fight me like a man.”
Scott tossed the knife, and it skittered across the metal bridge a few feet away from Zane. “Put down the gun and let’s fight like men.”
Zane shifted to the right to see better.
Charles put down his gun and then rushed at Scott. The two men collided in a fury of arms and legs. Scott’s gunshot wound hadn’t seemed to slow him in the least, as he pinned Charles to the ground and wrapped his hands around his neck.
