“You see, Derek—and I assume I may call you Derek, considering our mutual acquaintance—there are sheriff’s deputies in this county who owe me considerable favors.”

Rebecca shut her eyes.

Stone noticed.

Victor noticed him noticing.

“Yes,” Victor continued. “Rebecca knows.”

Stone looked at her.

“What does he want?”

Rebecca remained silent.

Victor answered.

“A key.”

Stone glanced toward her fist.

“And what does the key open?”

“A box containing something valuable.”

“How valuable?”

Victor smiled.

“Enough to buy judges.”

Boone muttered, “Hell.”

Stone ignored him.

“What’s in the box, Becca?”

She opened her eyes.

“The Hale Ledger.”

Victor’s jaw tightened.

Stone watched him.

“Records?”

Rebecca nodded.

“Names. Transactions. Children. Witnesses. Everybody he ever sold, moved, erased or paid.”

Victor spoke quietly.

“You always did enjoy making things sound dramatic.”

Rebecca suddenly shouted, “He sold children!”

Stone’s entire body went rigid.

Noah’s eyes widened.

Victor’s pistol shifted.

Stone saw it.

Half an inch.

That was enough.

He moved.

Later, nobody agreed on precisely what happened.

Boone remembered Stone crashing into Victor.

Rafe remembered Rebecca dropping.

Doc remembered diving toward Noah.

Victor fired once.

The bullet struck the motel mirror.

Glass exploded.

Boone slammed one of Victor’s men into the bathroom door.

Rafe drove the second into the dresser.

Stone hit Victor hard enough to send the pistol skidding beneath the bed.

Victor reached for the syringe.

Rebecca kicked it away.

Then Stone pinned him against the carpet.

Victor looked up and smiled through blood on his lip.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

Stone stopped.

Victor whispered, “You should.”

Sirens appeared outside.

Sheriff Elias Ward arrived three minutes later.

He was sixty-one, gray-haired, thick around the middle, and wearing the expression of a man deeply irritated that his Sunday had become complicated.

Two deputies followed him.

Stone was standing beside Rebecca when Ward entered.

Victor sat handcuffed near the dresser.

His two men were restrained.

Noah was being examined by Doc.

Clara had been brought across from the roadhouse and was clinging to her mother.

Ward surveyed the room.

Then his gaze settled on Victor.

Something passed between them.

Tiny.

Almost invisible.

Rebecca saw it.

So did Stone.

Victor smiled.

“There you are.”

Ward’s face became unreadable.

Stone took one step toward him.

“You know this guy?”

Ward looked at him.

“Step back.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“I said step back.”

Victor laughed softly.

Rebecca’s fear returned instantly.

Stone saw it.

“No,” she whispered.

Ward turned.

“What?”

Rebecca stared at the sheriff.

“No.”

Ward’s right hand moved toward his holster.

Boone shifted.

Stone blocked him.

Not yet.

Ward looked toward his deputies.

“Clear the civilians.”

Stone did not move.

“We’re witnesses.”

“You’re trespassing suspects who entered an occupied motel room and assaulted three men.”

Clara gasped.

Rebecca pulled her closer.

Stone stared.

Ward continued, “Victor Hale claims Ms. Whitmore stole property belonging to him and that he came here to recover it.”

“That’s a lie,” Noah said.

Ward looked toward the boy.

Noah sat upright.

“He hurt Mom.”

Ward sighed.

“Son—”