The tires hummed against the asphalt, and Cal’s hand rested loose on the wheel. They were both running on fumes after the long hours at Raines’ office, the questions, the reports, the what-ifs that had been hammered out until nearly dawn. But now, with the road stretching ahead and Cedar Ridge waiting, the world felt a little safer.
Alena let out a slow breath. “That could’ve been so much worse.”
Cal’s jaw tightened, the muscle flexing as he gave a short nod. “Too close. If Melissa’s stunt had gone sideways…” He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.
“She put all of us in danger,” Alena said quietly. “Herself, David, everyone. It could’ve turned into a bloodbath.”
“Melissa wanted to end it,” Cal muttered, eyes still on the road. “But the way she went about it… reckless doesn’t even cover it.”
Alena closed her eyes for a moment, the echo of gunfire still fresh in her head. She saw Melissa shouting defiance, Dexter’sface twisted in rage, and the flash of him going down under their fire. Dangerous and reckless was an understatement. It had nearly cost them all.
But Dexter was gone. And for the first time in years, Alena felt like she could breathe without the weight of his shadow pressing in.
The road curved through a stretch of pastureland, the horizon still painted in pale morning light. They were a few miles out from Cedar Ridge when Cal’s phone buzzed. He hit speaker, and Noah’s voice filled the cab.
“Thought you’d want to know. The ME finished the ID on the second gunman. The one who was across the creek.” Noah paused, like he knew the weight of what he was about to say. “Name’s Travis Boone. He was on parole. Old buddy of Dexter’s from prison.”
Alena’s stomach tightened, but she didn’t flinch. She wouldn’t let herself. Her hand stayed steady in her lap, fingers brushing against the seam of her jeans. Boone had been aiming to kill them. He would have, too, if she hadn’t pulled the trigger first.
“I’m not sorry,” Alena murmured. “It was either him or us. And I’m damn sure not letting one of Dexter’s thugs take us down.”
“Agreed,” Cal and Noah said in quick unison.
Alena turned her gaze out the window, the early sun flickering through the trees. She wouldn’t second-guess it. Not now. Not ever. Boone had made his choice the moment he picked up a gun for Dexter. And she had made hers.
“The ME can’t say which bullet killed Dexter,” Noah continued a moment later. “Truth is, they might never know. They can track which bullet hit which part of him, but every one of those shots would’ve taken him down. All of them were kill shots.”
Alena exchanged a glance with Cal. He stayed quiet, but she saw the tension in his jaw, the way his grip tightened on the wheel.
“Good work,” Noah added, his tone firm.
“Thanks,” Cal said, his voice flat, but there was weight in it.
“Yeah,” Alena echoed, because what else was there to say?
She stared out the windshield, the pale morning stretching ahead of them. No guilt tugged at her. Not even a flicker. Dexter had earned every bullet that tore through him. He had killed, maimed, and destroyed what had once been their lives.
David would never be whole again. He would never walk without the limp or escape the shadows that lived in his head. She herself would never have children. That choice had been ripped away from her in the most brutal way. And Cal carried those same hellish memories, the same scars that could never really heal.
Cal’s voice broke the silence. “What about Melissa?” he asked Noah.
“She’s been arrested,” Noah said. “Charged with Kara’s murder and for staging her own kidnapping.”
Alena sighed, the sound heavy with the weight pressing down on her chest. With Melissa, there were regrets. Not guilt, not exactly, but a gnawing sense that she should have seen it coming. She wished she’d realized earlier that Melissa would do anything to get to Dexter. Anything.
That included murdering Kara. And putting Cal, Raines, and her right in the crosshairs.
The thought twisted in Alena’s gut. Melissa had wanted vengeance so badly she hadn’t cared who else burned in the fire she set.
Noah’s voice carried through the speaker again. “There won’t be any charges against Arneson. It’s possible he tied himself up to make it look like Dexter had held him, but he’snot admitting to it, and we can’t prove it. Either way, the man’s already being punished. His brother’s dead.”
Alena sat with that for a moment. She could almost picture Arneson’s face, that mix of anger and grief that never quite left him. She nodded to herself, though Noah couldn’t see it. “Yeah,” she murmured. “That’s punishment enough.”
Because if Arneson had given Dexter the resources to keep running, if he’d chosen loyalty to blood over doing the right thing, then he might have played a hand in all of this. He might have helped keep a killer free.
Now Dexter was gone, and Arneson would have to live with that shadow. Live with the possibility that his choices had led to his brother’s death. That weight would crush him far more than any prison sentence.
Alena leaned back against the seat as Cal ended the call with Noah. Silence filled the SUV except for the steady hum of the engine. They sat there, watching the horizon bleed with light, the sun climbing higher with every breath. It was 7:15, and in another fifteen minutes David would be up. They’d already texted the staff to let them know they were coming, so now it was just a matter of waiting.
