"I’m counting on it." Hale's tone carried satisfaction now, not fear. "Been planning this since your brother showed up asking questions. Fire destroys DNA. Identification will take weeks. I’ll be long gone."
Cara's blood ran cold. This was always Hale’s exit strategy. The explosives weren't panic—they were insurance. A way to by time to disappear.
No way the man she’d come to know had either the brains or the resources to plan this on his own.
The tunnel opened ahead with light spilling from a wider space. She slowed, edging carefully up to the opening.
The boat house was old Coast Guard construction—concrete and rusted metal beams that had withstood decades of Pacific storms. A single fishing vessel was tied to the dock,its engine already running, burbling and coughing. Someone had prepped and fueled it, made sure Hale could leave the moment he arrived.
Hale dragged David toward the boat with his gun pressed hard into David's ribs. "Get in."
David stumbled and tried to plant his feet. "No."
Hale slammed the butt of his gun into David’s temple. Hands to his head, David staggered sideways.
He would have fallen off the narrow dock if Hale hadn’t grabbed him. "I said get in."
Cara stepped from the shadows, the fire extinguisher clutched in both hands. "Let him go."
Hale spun with his weapon up. When he saw her, he laughed—the sound echoing off the concrete walls.
"The baker. Even better." He trained his weapon on her, center mass. "That's brave. And stupid. Real stupid."
He studied her closer, and something shifted in his expression. Recognition. Suspicion. "Or real stupid.
"Let David go. Take me instead."
She played the scared civilian, the helpless baker, but her attention stayed on his stance, his grip, the way his finger rested just outside the trigger guard. That mistake could buy her precious nanoseconds.
Hale's tone carried that jittery edge again, fear underneath the bravado. "Now why would I do that?"
"Because I'm the one who found all your evidence. I'm the one with the notebook, the files."
She lied smoothly, easily, using the con woman's gift.Make the mark believe you have what they want.He's just a journalist. I'm the one who knows where everything is."
One hand wrapped around David’s upper arm, Hale studied her while the boat engine coughed.
The sirens had stopped, she realized. Help was on the way. But would it come in time?
"How'd you find me?" His question carried genuine curiosity beneath the suspicion.
"I'm good at finding things people want hidden." The truth, for the first time. "It's what I do."
"You ain't no baker."
Her heart slammed against her ribs, but she kept her voice level. "No. I'm not."
"Who are you really?"
Behind them, footsteps echoed in the tunnel. Multiple people coming fast.
Hale's eyes flicked past her for just a second.
Exactly the opening she needed.
Cara moved. Not away from him, but toward David—the thing Hale wouldn't expect from a scared civilian.
She swung the fire extinguisher in a wide arc. Ten pounds of metal connected with the side of Hale's head. His gun went off as he fell—a deafening crack. The bullet slammed into the dock near her feet.
