An emptiness settled over Kara.

  She had never understood why her mother hadn’t sold the home. It had been over twelve years since they’d left the island and the house behind.

  Over twelve years since her father’s brutal murder.

  Her mother had been frantic to leave, her grief overwhelming, her need to cling to her only child smothering.

  Kara barely remembered those first days after the news that her father had been found bludgeoned to death on the high school baseball field.

  She’d been distraught, her own grief inconsolable.

  The only bright spot had been Jeremy Hamilton. Her father’s favorite baseball player and…her boyfriend. He’d been her anchor.

  Until he hadn’t.

  The assault of memories battering her mind had her gripping and re-gripping the steering wheel. She couldn’t bring herself to shut off the engine. The urge to bolt was so strong she nearly gave in.

  But she knew deep inside she couldn’t outrun grief or sorrow.

  Still, she wished she’d instructed the real estate agent to box everything up and give it to charity.

  But after having her home in Virginia robbed earlier this week, Kara had felt the need for a change of scenery and a sense of closure to process her mom’s death. Taking on the task of closing up the old house in Texas had seemed like the perfect escape from the snowy December weather in Virginia. Though now, all she wanted to do was turn around and head for the airport.

  Movement from the back seat had her turning off the engine and lifting her hands from the steering wheel.

  “Mommy, are we here?”

  She twisted in her seat to reach for her four-year-old daughter’s hand, petal soft and so trusting. Kara’s heart squeezed tight with love. “We’re here, honeybee. Give me a sec to get everything ready, and then I’ll take you inside.”

  Squaring her shoulders with resignation and determination to get this over with as soon as possible and head back to Virginia, Kara popped open the driver’s-side door and stepped out into the temperate December air.

  A chill skated across her flesh.

  She frowned. The temperature on the island was in the mid-fifties. Nothing like the arctic blast she’d left back in Alexandria. In the distance, she heard the waves of the Gulf of Mexico rushing onto the sandy shores, a sound she’d fallen asleep to for most of her life. She breathed in the familiar sea-salted air. The beach had been her favorite place, filled with fun and young love.

  Shaking off the nostalgia worming its way into her consciousness, she popped open the trunk and removed her and Emily’s bags. They were only staying for two nights, so she’d packed light.

  Maybe only one night, if she could quickly find the documents she needed. Changing their scheduled flight back wouldn’t be a problem. She’d pay whatever fee was necessary. Then she’d hire movers to pack everything up and take it all to the donation bin for the local church. She didn’t need anything from this house except her mother’s will, which Kara hadn’t been able to find in her mother’s possession in Virginia. As well as needing the mortgage documents so she could put the house on the market.

  Glancing up and down the suburban neighborhood on the north side of South Padre Island, she smiled at all the holiday-decorated yards: Blow-up reindeer and Santas. A colorful nativity scene across the street. Christmas trees shining brightly through front windows.

  All was quiet. Most people were tucked in for the night, either watching television or already asleep. Her gaze traveled to the moon. The round orb bathed the world in a soft glow.

  She closed her eyes, envisioning the path she used to take to Jeremy’s house, only a few blocks away.

  She wondered if his parents still lived there. Or had they moved?

  Probably moved. That had to be the reason their number had been disconnected all those years ago.

  She shook off the questions and the melancholy that descended.

  Jeremy was her distant past. Emily was her future.

  It was time to firmly close this chapter of her life. And maybe even close the chapter of their lives in Alexandria. Now that her mother had passed on, Kara could sell that house too and move to somewhere fresh. She made a mental note to start searching for their new home as soon as she finished up here. With the work she did for the FBI, she could live anywhere that had an FBI office.

  She carried the bags to the front porch and set them down at her feet. Using the key she still had on her key fob, she unlocked and opened the front door.

  The dark interior yawned like a cavernous abyss.

  A musty odor hit her nostrils, making her nose wrinkle. No doubt a layer of dust would cover everything. Maybe she and Emily should go to a hotel tonight. It might be for the best.

  On the verge of retreating, the scrape of a shoe on hardwood set off her internal alarm system to a blaring roar.

  Someone was in the house.

  Reflexively, she reached for her sidearm beneath her lightweight blazer.

  Glancing over her shoulder and assuring herself Emily was still safely strapped in her car seat within the confines of the car, Kara sent up a silent prayer for protection.

  If the house had a squatter, Kara needed to deal with it quietly and efficiently. Calling the police was not an option. She didn’t want Officer Jeremy Hamilton showing up on her doorstep.

  She needed to keep a low profile. Get in and out of town without any fuss or drama.

  Or any more heartache.

  She thumbed the lock on the rental-car key chain, locking Emily inside. With her daughter secure in the car, Kara moved into the inky darkness.

  Her hand hovered over the wall light switch. She debated filling the house with the overhead lights and then decided against it.

  Better to have surprise on her side.

  As it was, the ambient light of the moon spilled in through the open front door, allowing her to move deeper into the living room and head for the kitchen. Muscle memory had her skirting around an end table that stuck out into the path. As a kid, she’d hit that table more times than she could count.

  A shadow darker than the dimness of the house’s interior appeared in her line of sight from the hallway to her right.

  A shadow in the form of a man.

  She whirled toward the shape, drawing her weapon. “Halt! FBI.”

  Though she had no jurisdiction here on the local level, her badge would be enough to scare any squatter away.

  For half a second, the intruder paused, and then, instead of running for the door, he rushed her, swiping the unlit lamp off the end table and swinging it in her direction.

  The brass base of the lamp hit her hand with a stinging crack, sending her weapon flying from her grasp.

  The hard thunk of the metal weapon hitting the hardwood floor and skittering away echoed through her brain.

  She needed to get her gun.

  She dove to the side, landing on her stomach as her cheek slammed against the smooth surface of the hardwood floor. Ignoring the burst of pain, she reached for the grip of her Glock.

  Her fingertips barely touched the edge of the gun before the intruder wrapped his hands around her ankles and dragged her away from her weapon.

  Panic exploded in her chest. Despite bucking and kicking, her efforts to make the man release his hold proved ineffective.

  Fear and fury mingled, fueling her determination to break free. Her training kicked in.

  Twisting to her back, she curled and forcefully drew her knees up, bringing the assailant closer. She leveraged her feet onto his hip while covering her head to ward off his fist. With a burst of power, she shoved her feet into his hips, causing him to loosen his hold on her right foot enough for her to yank her ankle from his grasp.

  Liberated from his hold, she kicked with all her might, the bottom of her short, heeled boot striking the man square in the chest.

  With an oof, he let go of her.

  Freed from his grip, she scrambled to retrieve her sidearm.

  The assailant blasted to his feet and took off running.

  Pushing to her knees, she aimed her weapon at the retreating back of the intruder as he raced out the front door and passed beneath the porch light.

  Her assailant wasn’t a homeless person seeking shelter but rather a masked man. What was he doing in her home?

  Jumping to her feet, she sped out of the house. The man pounded the pavement down the street and turned the corner.

  Should she chase after him?

  No. Her steps faltered, and she slowed. She needed to protect her child. A quick glance toward her rental car reassured her that Emily was protected in the back seat.

  Moments later, the sound of an engine filled the night air, and then the roar of a car driving away let her know going after the intruder would be futile.

  Adrenaline pumped through Kara’s veins, causing ragged breathing. Shaking, she holstered her weapon and headed to the car.

  Lights came on in the house next door. An older couple she’d never seen before stepped out on their front porch. The husband took a protective stance near his wife. “We’ve called the police.”

  Kara’s stomach sank but she waved an acknowledgment to the new neighbors. She just hoped and prayed that Jeremy wasn’t on duty tonight. The last thing she needed was to come face-to-face with the man who’d broken her heart.

  Her gaze turned to the undecorated house. Why was a stranger in her childhood home, and what had he been after?

  A shudder worked over her.

  Worse yet, would he return?

  * * *

  Crime scene tape cordoned off the area beneath the boardwalk attached to Beach Park, one of South Padre Island’s amusement parks. The yellow-and-black bands flapped in the slight breeze coming in off the ocean. Police Chief Jeremy Hamilton stood with his arms crossed as he stared down at the third murder victim to be found in his jurisdiction in less than a week.

  His gut churned with acid.

  Were the murders connected, or was this a coincidence?

  He didn’t believe in coincidence. Everything happened for a reason, even if the reason was known only to God.

  “Rodgers says looks like the same MO,” Officer Tarren McGregor said as he and his K-9, Raz, a dark-colored German shepherd, moved to stand next to Jeremy.

  Rodgers was the department’s homicide detective by way of the New York Police Department. When Jeremy had become chief, he’d recruited experienced officers to their small department.

  “My thoughts exactly.” As with the other two victims, this one had been shot in the chest and there was bruising on the face, indicating the man had taken a beating before being killed. Having three murders with the same modus operandi wasn’t good for the island.

  Even though it was December, plenty of tourists wanting a tropical Christmas experience filled the hotels and vacation homes. It was Jeremy’s job to make sure everyone stayed safe.

  “We’ll see what the medical examiner has to say.” Jeremy pushed back the brim of his tan cowboy hat and scanned the deserted area.

  Sand stretched for miles to the north and the south. Waves rushed up the shoreline and retreated again. Because it was after hours for the park, this section of the beach was quiet as usual, though the more popular beaches near the resorts would still have swimmers in the temperate waters.

  “The victim was dumped,” Tarren replied. “There’s no blood pooling in the sand beneath him.”

  “We have our work cut out for us. Again.” Frustration reverberated through Jeremy, seeping into his words.

  Like the other two murdered victims, the body had been dumped at a secondary crime scene. They had yet to find the primary scene of the crime for any of the victims.

  The radio on Jeremy’s shoulder crackled to life and a dispatcher’s voice came through. “Chief, we have reports of an intruder at the Evans home.”

  Jeremy’s heart bumped against his ribs.

  He knew the address by heart. He’d spent a lot of time there from age eleven through seventeen, until his world derailed with the murder of his mentor and baseball coach.

  The horror of learning the details of Coach Paul Evans’s bludgeoned body laid out on the home plate of the high school baseball field would forever be etched into his brain.

  “You want me to take it?” Tarren asked.

  Jeremy appreciated his best friend’s sensitivity. Tarren had been just as close to Coach Evans.

  Only Jeremy had also been dating the coach’s daughter, Kara.

  Jeremy was tempted to relinquish the responsibility of responding to the call over to Tarren. But they were both on duty tonight. There was nothing more they could do at this site. Rodgers had it in hand. Forensics were on the scene, and the ME was on the way.

  “We’ll both go.”

  Tarren nodded.

  Jeremy was thankful that his best friend and best officer didn’t remark on the fact that they were headed to Jeremy’s ex-girlfriend’s abandoned home.

  When Kara Evans and her mother, Laine Evans, left town over twelve years ago, there had been promises made between Kara and Jeremy.

  Promises that had been broken.

  Neither Kara nor Laine had returned to the island in all that time, yet for some reason Laine had kept up the house, making sure the yard was always tended to once a week. For years the fact she’d that had someone maintain the place had given Jeremy hope that they would return.

  That Kara would return.

  But that hope had died.

  And in order to move forward, he’d squashed his feelings for Kara.

  Still, he was the chief of police for South Padre Island and he had a job to do. A job that included protecting the property that belonged to his deceased beloved coach and mentor.

  After giving instructions to the other officers on the scene to contain the area and wait for the medical examiner, Jeremy climbed into his official South Padre Island Police Department vehicle.

  Tarren and Raz went to their new vehicle, a state-of-the-art K-9 SUV, thanks to the grateful rich parents of a teenager who’d been rescued by Tarren and Raz. Their previous vehicle had been destroyed last year when the teenager had been kidnapped.

  With Jeremy leading the way, they drove from the amusement park through the festively decorated downtown and then the more residential area.

  Normally, Jeremy bypassed the Evanses’ street to head to his parents’ house. But tonight, as he made the turn, it felt strangely familiar and odd at the same time. The house, midway down the block and undecorated for the holiday season, was lit up, as well as the house next door.

  An older couple Jeremy recognized as Olivia and Larry Bauman met him as soon as he parked behind a blue sedan in the Evanses’ driveway.

  Jeremy only half listened to the couple as his gaze zeroed in on the brunette woman sitting on the porch holding a young child on her lap.

  His heart expanded and then retracted painfully within his chest.

  Kara Evans was the intruder?

  * * *

  Kara kept her daughter wrapped in her arms and secure on her lap as they waited on the porch for the South Padre Island police to arrive. She saw the vehicles pull up, one parking behind her rental and the other at the curb.

  Dropping her gaze to her daughter’s trusting eyes, she murmured, “Everything’s going to be fine, honeybee. Mommy’s got you.”

  Emily snuggled closer.

  The sound of the older couple relaying to the police how they’d seen the woman arrive and then a masked man run out of the house had Kara’s nerves stretched taut.

  At the low rumble of a familiar male voice, everything inside of her tightened.

  It couldn’t be Jeremy, could it?

  Heart thundering, she kept her gaze lowered.

  As a federal agent, she normally would have stopped in at a police department to inform them of her presence. But she wasn’t here on official business. This was personal. So she hadn’t made that courtesy visit at this late hour.

  She felt rather than heard someone approaching. Felt the presence of someone standing in front of her.

  Slowly, she allowed her gaze to land on the black steel-toed boots that had stopped two feet from her. Her gaze traveled up the dark slacks and tan uniform shirt of the South Padre Island police force, snagging on the nameplate attached to the breast pocket of the shirt pulled taut across a muscled chest.

  She sucked in a sharp breath.

  Her gaze lifted and met the green-gold gaze of Jeremy Hamilton.

  Even though his tan cowboy hat shaded his face, she’d recognize him anywhere. A realization came to her in a flash as embarrassment rushed to her cheeks.

  Not only was Jeremy on the police force, he was the police chief. And there was no way she was getting out of the situation without more heartache.

  Copyright © 2025 by Terri Reed

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  Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Valerie Hansen for her contribution to the Dakota K-9 Unit miniseries.

  ISBN-13: 9780369772404

  Final Showdown

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