Chapter Fifty-Seven
The Anderson Family Home
Portland, Maine
Caspian felt his phone buzz again and immediately regretted not powering it off when he’d had the chance. It was Ranger. Again. Across from him, Liesel was looking at him, annoyed.
“Please, take it,” she said.
Caspian offered Liesel and Clara a tight nod, mouthed an apology, and stepped away from the kitchen table. He brought the phone to his ear as the doorbell rang.
“What is it, Samantha?” he said.
“About damn time you picked up,” Ranger said. “Where are you?”
There was an urgency in Ranger’s voice that told Caspian this wasn’t just a social call. “My parents’ house. Why?”
As he spoke, his mother walked past him, already heading for the front door.
“Mia Hernandez traveled from Miami to Portland this afternoon,” Ranger said. “I think she’s on her way to your parents’ house, if she’s not already there.”
Caspian’s body locked as every single muscle in him seemed to coil.
“Mom!” he shouted, spinning around. “Don’t open the door!”
But he was too late. Elizabeth had already turned the lock and cracked the door open.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
The Anderson Family Home
Portland, Maine
Henry’s voice came through Mia’s earbud. “Five seconds before the bell.”
Then, “Three, two, one, execute!”
Mia heard the doorbell ring. This was her cue to move. She emerged from the tree line and advanced toward the narrow ten-step staircase leading to the deck, her red dot optics steady on the back of Nelson Anderson’s neck. She had just begun to apply pressure on the trigger when a loud, panicked shout coming from inside the house sliced through her focus.
Nelson and his father both turned toward the sound, just as Mia pulled the trigger. The round struck Nelson, slamming into his upper back but a good four inches to the right of his neck. Not thinking she’d need a second shot, Mia had already started to switch targets when her brain caught up to what had just happened.
Shit.
She tried to swing the muzzle back toward Nelson, but he had already fallen to the deck. Richard Anderson, who was much faster than she’d expected, had also disappeared, having found cover behind the large grill.
Mia sidestepped to her right, looking for a better angle, but she quickly realized she still had no shot. The deck was too high. Knowing she couldn’t stay in the open any longer, she sprinted toward the stairs.
And that’s when Richard Anderson reappeared, five feet from where she had last seen him, a pistol in hand. And it was aimed straight at her.
She reacted on instinct and threw herself left, a millisecond before she saw the first muzzle flash. The round zipped past her right ear. She landed on her shoulder and rolled to absorb the fall as two more shots tore into the grass beside her. An instant later, she was on her knees squeezing the trigger.
Richard Anderson staggered and went down hard, collapsing next to his son.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
The Anderson Family Home
Portland, Maine
