He stepped closer. She had trouble drawing a breath.

  “All right then. If you have to go, then I’m going with you.”

  Damn it. What part of this did he not understand? “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” His chin went up in defiance.

  “Think about your family. Your mother. Your sister and her family. The animals. All those dogs, cats, horses...chickens.” She shrugged. “They’re all depending on you. You can’t just walk away.”

  “Lonnie will see that the animals are taken care of,” he argued. “I’ll find a way to see my family when I can.”

  He was serious.

  “Griff.” She exhaled a weary breath, felt suddenly exhausted all over again. “This is on me. I have to handle it. I promise you that if I can find a way to come back, I will. But you cannot be involved in what happens today.”

  “If,” he echoed, “you know they’ll kill you, then there’s no coming back.”

  The tremor in his voice as he said the words ripped her apart inside. “They’ve tried before.” She forced an exaggerated smile and a lackluster shrug. “Killing me isn’t as easy as they’d like it to be.”

  “If I can’t talk you into staying,” he said, “then at least let me help you.”

  How could he be that sweet, that willing to sacrifice himself to help her? He could not be that dense. He surely understood that to go with her was pure suicide.

  “I’m willing to listen to what you believe you can do to help.” It was the least she could do. He deserved her respect even if she would never agree to whatever he suggested.

  Her tone no doubt conveyed the lack of confidence she had in the possibility that he or anyone could help her.

  “We set a trap,” he offered, “lure them in using the two of us as bait.”

  “We could do that,” she agreed. “If we’re lucky, we could take down Ridley and his crew.”

  “Then why aren’t we planning that move right now?” He turned his hands up in question. “It makes sense.”

  It did. To a point. Good men like Griff believed in standing on the side of right. Of fighting for truth and fairness. He couldn’t fathom the depths of depravity to which someone like Lorenzo would go. “Here’s the sticking point in your plan. Lorenzo will send someone else and then someone after that. He will keep sending hired killers to take me and anyone close to me out until the job is done.”

  Griff turned his hands up, clearly out of suggestions. “Then we go after him.”

  That wasn’t a suggestion; that was a death sentence.

  “Many have tried,” she said with a genuine note of sadness. “All have failed. They either end up dead or working for him.”

  He looked away. “I guess that’s a good enough reason to simply give up and let him win.”

  Now he was just trying to anger her. “There are some wars that can’t be won.” She couldn’t keep doing this. “Goodbye, Griff.”

  She turned back to the door.

  Her cell vibrated. She started to ignore it. To wait until she was in the SUV and driving away to check the screen, but some deeply honed instinct warned that she shouldn’t miss this call.

  She pulled it from her back pocket and checked the screen. Not a number she recognized. She hit Accept and pressed the device to her ear. “Yeah.”

  “Long time no see.”

  Ridley.

  “Not long enough.” Why sugarcoat it? He was one of them now.

  He chuckled; the sound held no amusement. “Look, I’ll cut to the chase.”

  “Please do, I have places to go.” Except she had a feeling her travel itinerary was about to change dramatically. “You know, I talked to the boss about you. He was surprised to hear you were working for the other side now.”

  “You see, Elle, that’s what happens when you stay out of the loop for too long. Things change. Maybe the boss didn’t mention it, but he works on this side too. He doesn’t like to talk about how the government has left him needing to plump up his personal retirement plan. You just can’t rely on anything anymore.”

  Why wasn’t she surprised? “You can’t trust anyone either.”

  “No,” he agreed, “you cannot. Speaking of which, several of your friends and I are having breakfast at the diner in this quaint little town you’ve been holed up in. We’d like you to join us, oh say, no later than eight thirty.”

  Equal measures of fear and fury roared through her veins. “You know me, Rid,” she shot back, keeping all that fear and fury out of her voice, “I don’t have any friends.”

  “Let’s see,” he mused, “we have Jodie.”

  A squeal told Meg he’d nudged Jodie with his weapon or made some other thuggish move. Meg gritted her teeth to hold back a reaction.

  “Dottie.”

  Another yelp.

  Meg flinched.

  “There are half a dozen others sitting around waiting for breakfast. Including Deputy Battles and one of his little minions. I’d hate to see anyone get hurt, but you know how the boys I hang with can be sometimes. Oh wait, I should mention that the two deputies are a little worse for wear, but not to worry. It’s nothing a good ER doc can’t fix. Assuming they arrive in a timely fashion.”

  Her rage mounted, searing away the fear. There were things she wanted to say to him. No, actually she wanted to shove her weapon into his mouth and blow his head off. That would make her immensely happy. But chances were, she would never get the opportunity. Not now.

  She smiled sadly. This was the life she’d chosen. The one that had made her feel as if she were making a difference. Too late to regret those decisions now.

  She glanced at Griff. Too late for a lot of things.

  “I’ll be there,” she assured him. “By eight thirty.”

  She ended the call. Stared at the screen for a long moment.

  “Wherever you’re going,” Griff said as he tugged on a shoe, “I’m going too.”

  He’d already pulled on his shirt. As she watched, her ability to relay the gist of the conversation suddenly unavailable, he slipped on the other shoe, then stuffed the tail of his shirt into the waistband of his jeans.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, moving closer.

  She cleared her throat, somehow found her voice. “That was Ridley. He has Jodie and Dottie and Ernie. Some others too. At the diner. He and his pals are holding them hostage until I show up.”

  The look on Griff’s face lanced her heart. He understood just how bad this was.

  “I’m calling Sheriff Norwood.”

  Meg wanted to tell him it wouldn’t matter, but why bother? The debate would only waste time.

  Griff held out his hand and she placed her cell phone there. He made the call and talked to the sheriff, giving her a quick overview of their state of affairs.

  Meg listened to the way he framed the situation, to the things he said about her. The way he described Meg as a hero in need of backup. Her throat tightened; her heart expanded, making it impossible to breathe.

  His words reminded her of something she’d almost allowed herself to forget: you could be down or you could be beaten. As long as you were still breathing, the choice was your own.

  She smiled. She was down for sure, but she damned well was not beaten.

  She had one potential ace up her sleeve. Making that call was a risk. A damned huge risk, but it was better than going down without a fighting chance. She knew the whole truth now. Maybe it was time someone else did as well.

  Maybe it would help, maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, distraction always provided opportunity. Whether it kept them alive or not was yet to be seen.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Pampered Paws

  Pine Boulevard

  Piney Woods, Tennessee

  8:05 a.m.

  “I don’t like the idea of you going in there alone,” Sheriff Norwood said.

  Griff didn’t like it either. “They know I’m with you,” he tossed in. “Why wouldn’t they expect me to be with you?”

  “At this point,” Meg argued, “any and all things beyond my walking into that diner are irrelevant.”

  Griff refused to believe there was nothing else that could be done. The sheriff had put in place a roadblock at each end of the boulevard. She’d set up a sort of command post at Pampered Paws. The view of the diner from Meg’s upstairs apartment provided a good vantage point. Having all involved come in through the back had provided decent cover as well.

  Norwood continued to argue with Meg’s conclusion about what happened next.

  Like him, the sheriff believed they needed a damned better plan for going in.

  “Either way,” Griff tossed in once more, “I’m going in with you.”

  Meg looked from Griff to Norwood. “If he goes with me, that’s just another casualty to have to deal with, because this will not happen without casualties. The fewer bodies in their path, the fewer lives lost.”

  Her insistence that Griff couldn’t help in any capacity infuriated him. “I’ll take that risk,” he growled.

  Norwood held up a hand for him to settle down. The other four deputies in the room stood back, waiting for orders.

  “I’ve got Deputy Phillips on the second floor of the urgent care. He’s got a direct view into the diner. We know this Ridley character has three others with him. Two males, one female. Phillips can take them out if he catches one or more in his crosshairs. He was a sharpshooter in the military. He won’t miss.”

  Meg shook her head. “Ridley will never be that careless, and if one of the others is taken out, there will be retaliation. People will die.”

  Meg had insisted they call in a bomb squad. Just in case. The one Chattanooga had wouldn’t be here for another ten minutes.

  “Sheriff.”

  The word rattled across Norwood’s radio. “What’ve you got, Phillips?”

  “Ma’am, look closely at the diner window. Something’s happening.”

  Norwood, Meg and Griff rushed to the window. Norwood had binoculars. Meg had the ones they had found in the cabin. Both peered for a long moment toward the diner. Meg drew back first and passed the pair she’d used to Griff.

  He moved closer to the window and set the binoculars in place. Next to him, Norwood swore.

  “He’s lining them up to provide cover.” She swore again.

  Jodie, Dottie, Ernie and all the other Piney Woods residents in the diner, including Katie, the owner, now stood in a line along the plate glass window. There would be no sniper shots getting to one of the bad guys. No flash bangs or smoke bombs would be thrown in through the window. Griff drew back. His attention landed on Meg once more.

  “I told you he wouldn’t take any chances.” Meg turned to Norwood. “I’m guessing your man Phillips doesn’t have sights on Ridley or any of his people now.”

  Norwood spoke into the radio. “Phillips, can you get any of the targets in your crosshairs now if they step away from the counter?”

  So far, all four had stayed just beyond the sniper’s line of vision into the diner.

  “Negative,” Phillips confirmed.

  “It’s time,” Meg said. “I have to go.”

  Griff stepped toward her. “I’m going with you.” When she would have argued, he said, “Unless Norwood takes me into custody or you kill me, I’m going. Either with you, or I’ll run down the middle of the street behind you.”

  * * *

  THE MAN WAS the most hardheaded—

  Meg drew in a big breath. She was wasting time. “Fine. You can go with me and get yourself killed too.”

  That was exactly what would happen. They would walk in and they would both be killed. Ridley would likely kill Griff first just to torture her. The endgame was shutting her up. She had nothing else to offer. Nothing to use in trade. The only potential distraction she dared to hope might give her a fighting chance might not come through. At least she had tried.

  Norwood pressed her lips together and shook her head in something that resembled defeat. “We’ve got people in the woods behind the diner. Deputy Porch is working on getting into the diner’s attic from the one in the bookshop. If he’s successful, he might be able to help. We’ve got Phillips directly across the street watching through his scope, ready to take one or more out. Roadblocks. Whatever happens, they are not getting away.”

  Meg decided it was pointless to tell the sheriff that she had no idea who she was dealing with. Ridley would find a way. It wouldn’t matter if no one else survived. He would take care of himself above all else. He would vanish like fog rising off a lake in the sunshine.

  It was the way they were trained. Meg had her knife in her sock. Her gun at the small of her back. And her one secret weapon that may or may not prove useful.

  If she was really, really lucky, it would work, but she’d have to get that extra luck to even hope.

  “There’s just one more thing,” Meg said to Norwood.

  “Whatever we can do,” the sheriff insisted.

  “Get your guy Phillips on the radio.”

  Norwood did as she asked. “All right.”

  “Phillips, if you get Ridley in your sights—”

  “How will I know which one is Ridley?”

  Meg purposely kept her gaze from Griff as she responded, “Because I’ll be with him.”

  Griff’s forehead creased in question, but he said nothing.

  “Noted,” Phillips said.

  “If you get Ridley in your sights,” Meg went on, “take him out. I don’t care if you have to take me out with him. Just take him out.”

  Meg didn’t give Norwood or anyone else time to argue, she walked away. Griff followed. They hurried down the backstairs and out the rear exit of her shop. Griff said nothing, just followed until she had loaded into the SUV.

  He stood at the open passenger side door, but he made no move to get inside.

  She glared at him. “I have to go.”

  He nodded. “I know. But don’t go to the diner. Drive away. Get as far from here as possible. I’ll go take care of this for you.”

  What the...?

  He slammed the door and hurried away. She got out and shouted across the hood. “Griff, we have to go now. Get in the damned vehicle.”

  He kept going, moving faster. Then he vanished around the corner of the building.

  She jumped back into the driver’s seat and started the engine. By the time she had backed out and driven around to the street, he was in a dead run and nearly to the diner.

  “Son of a...” She rammed the accelerator, barely overtaking him before he reached the diner. She made a hard right and stood on the brake to skid to a stop directly in front of him.

  She jumped out and met him at the hood before he could get past her. “Don’t even think about it,” she warned, the air sawing in and out of her lungs, her heart thundering. She should kick his ass right now.

  “You should have kept going,” he said, breathless, his voice loaded with something like regret.

  The worry, the fear and the hurt in his eyes was like a knife ripping her open. “Just remember one thing for me.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “If I have to take a call, the moment I say hello, drop like a rock and roll under a table.”

  “What?”

  “Just remember that.”

  She turned her back on him and walked the remaining few yards to the diner. The terrified faces of her friends and neighbors, as well as Ernie and another deputy, stared out at her as she approached. The fearful gazes sent cracks running clean through her heart. This was her fault.

  The one thing that kept her putting one foot in front of the other and not falling to her knees and weeping like a child was the possibility that she would be able to put a bullet in that bastard Ridley’s head.

  She pushed the door open and walked into the diner. Griff moved up behind her. The bell over the door jangled as it closed.

  Besides the people lined up in the window standing on the wide ledge, much like the one in her apartment, there was only Ridley and the female he’d brought with him behind the counter. Meg didn’t dare take her eyes off the two to look for the others. They would be here somewhere.

  “Only thirty seconds late,” Ridley said.

  He hadn’t changed much. Still wore his jet-black hair military short. Still sported that fashionable stubbled jaw. Tall, handsome, smart. And evil. Her finger itched to wrap around a trigger and put one deep into his skull.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” Meg said with a careless shrug.

  “Yes, you are.”

  One of the other two minions appeared from the kitchen. She got it now. They were keeping watch on the rear entrance. It was the only other access to the diner. The third member of this little party patted Griff down, then did the same to Meg. She kept her eyes on Ridley the whole time. He was the one she had to watch. He was the most unpredictable. The one—she knew with complete certainty—who had the most to lose.

  Number three took Meg’s gun and her knife. She’d known that would happen. Then he took her cell phone. He was new to her. Younger. Blond. Gray eyes. Too bad he’d chosen the wrong side.

  He placed all three items on the counter and stepped back, blending into the background near the jukebox to wait for further instructions.

  Ridley took aim at Griff. Meg held her breath. “Hope she was worth it, buddy.”

  Her cell phone rang.

  Thank God.

  Ridley stared at the phone, then at Meg. “Why is someone calling you?”

  Incredibly grateful that his eyes were now on her and not on Griff made her weak in the knees with relief.

  “No clue,” she lied.

  “Answer it,” Ridley said to his female cohort. “I know that area code.”

  The woman stepped forward, picked up the phone and accepted the call. “What?” she barked. Two seconds later, her face paled. Three seconds after that, “Yes, sir,” she uttered meekly. She turned to Ridley and extended the phone toward him. “It’s for you.”