He wanted a nice moral ending, a neat match of crime and punishment. There were certain people who didn’t deserve to get hurt. And Kate Cramer was one of those people.

He should have foreseen it. But he had assumed that Gleason would be smart enough not to put himself at risk. And surely, he wouldn’t get past those cops stationed outside? No, nothing would happen to her. She would be safe.

He followed at a safe distance, his anxiety growing with each thrum of the engine. By the time he arrived it was too late. As he turned down the private drive towards the beach house he saw the cop car. The two officers had been shot in the head. Both Gleason’s car and the one belonging to Susan Gable were empty. This was not what he had planned for the end of the story.

68

Josh was on the 10 when his phone vibrated. A text message. Ignore it, he thought. It would be Jules, asking where he was. He hadn’t told her of his – what would you call it? – his change of heart. The shit that he was – and God, didn’t he just know it – he was going to wait for Kate’s answer before telling her.

Or would he? No. Fuck it. He was better than that. He would tell her before Kate gave him her response.

Yes or no. His future was bound up in those little words. Yes, she would take him back. No, and what? He couldn’t imagine a life without her now.

The phone buzzed again. He fished it out of his pocket, bringing it up to the steering wheel. He checked the traffic around him on the freeway and quickly glanced at the message. It was from Kate.

He is here.

He knew who she meant. Ryan Gleason. He had come to exact his final revenge on Kate. And her – their – child.

He hit the accelerator and overtook a couple of cars and a truck, before swinging back into the slow lane. He slammed on the breaks, and took the next exit from the freeway. He pulled over onto a patch of waste ground and called Curtis.

‘I’m nearly there,’ she said, ‘about two minutes from the –‘

‘Ryan’s at Kate’s house,’ he interrupted. ‘The beach house.’

‘Shit. Where are you?’

‘Just off the 10. What about the rest of the team?.’

‘Lansing is here with me and Holt’s in the office.’

‘And what about – who was it? Who were the cops stationed outside the house?’

‘Young and Westchester?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ll get them on the radio now. Hold on.’

Josh listened to her call and then to an empty silence that seemed to last forever.

‘Where the fuck are they?’ Then the realisation came, and the nausea. ‘Fuck. Fuck. No.’ He tried to take a deep breath. ‘Okay. I’m only about fifteen minutes away. I’m heading back there now. If there’s anyone nearer send them over. But tell them to be careful. You know how much - ’ His voice failed him.

‘I know,’ said Curtis. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be - ’

Josh cut the line and hit the gas. He manoeuvred the car back under the multi-lane highway. He was about to take the feeder lane that led back on to the 10 when he remembered the ongoing argument he and Kate had about freeways versus surface roads. He turned the wheel at the last minute. Today seemed like a good day to trust her.

69

In the pitch black she couldn’t see, but she could hear the door handle begin to turn ever so slightly. She heard him push himself against the door and then step away from it. She manoeuvred herself behind the door and pressed herself into the corner. She placed her hands over her ears just as she heard the gunshot. The lock exploded, sending fragments of metal flying across the room, and an acrid smell filled the room.

He kicked open the door, which shunted towards her. The shock of light made her blink. Hidden behind the door, she steadied herself for an instant. A moment later he stepped into the room. She waited for what seemed like an eternity for him to come into sight. As soon as she saw his back she leapt out from behind the door and plunged the chisel into the space between his shoulder blades. He screamed loudly, turning to grab her as he did so. As he raised his gun she noticed that a couple of his fingers were covered in bandages. Although she felt too heavy to do it she raised her right leg and kicked hard. She aimed at his fingers, sending the gun over the other side of the room.

‘Fuck!’ he screamed, a bloom of blood spreading through the white cotton bandages.

He grabbed her hair, pulling out a clump of silver from her head, but she pushed him away and ran towards the gun. Just as she was about to reach it he pulled her down by her ankles. She fell heavily, but she had turned on her side to protect the baby from the impact. She hit the floor at an awkward angle, heard a bone in her arm crack and then felt an explosion of searing pain.

She grappled for the gun, now within sight under the trestle table. Her fingers stretched towards it, but he jerked her back by the ankles. She managed to free one leg, and kicked him hard in the face.

‘Bitch!’ he shouted.

She looked back to see his eyes full of fury. Blood streaked the floor like a scene from a slaughterhouse. She knew if she did not fight she would end up torn apart.

She kicked him again, but his grip tightened on her ankle. He pressed hard into her leg, puncturing her skin. She cried out in pain. She heard him shuffle towards her, his hand now rising up her leg, pressing her into the floor. She stretched out once more, willing the gun to come towards her. The pain in her leg merged with the pain in her arm. It felt as though all her body was nothing but a mass of seared nerve endings.

‘I’m going to fuckin’ kill you, but before then you know what I’m going to do,’ he said.

She knew how his sick mind worked. Something worse than rape. She couldn’t let that happen. With one last stretch she reached towards the gun, first of all teasing it towards her with her fingertips and then, suddenly, clasping it in her hand. Although her legs were pinned to the floor she tried to turn her upper body towards him. With a swift movement she managed to swivel her arm round. She cried out in pain as the bone felt like it was about to protrude through her skin.

‘Take this, fucker,’ she snarled, pointing the gun towards him.