Page 118 of The SEAL and the Sheriff

Walter stepped down from the chair. “It’s a dead end.”

She didn’t answer. The road ended, but a few miles north, a narrow finger of land reached into the bay.

Morrow Point. The cannery.

“It’s not a dead end.”

Walter followed her gaze. “Morrow Point?”

“Yes. They’re not escaping by road.” The pieces locked together. “They’re driving to an extraction point.”

Walter swore under his breath. “The water.”

“It’s closer than the airfield. Quieter. No checkpoints. And once they’re on the water, we’ve got miles of coastline to search.” Her finger followed the road toward the point. “Right now they’re trapped on one road. Once they hit the water, the search area explodes. They don’t have to outrun us. They just have to reach the boat.”

“If we’re wrong?”

Sarah looked back at the map. “If I’m wrong, we’ll redeploy. If I’m right and we wait, we lose them.”

Walter held her gaze for a second. “I’ll bring the truck around. Long guns and plates?”

She nodded. “Give me five minutes.”

He was already moving before she’d finished speaking.

Five minutes later, Sarah carefully shrugged her body armor over her winter coat. She headed outside, where Walter was already behind the wheel of a department truck.

“I called the Coast Guard,” she said as she eased in, careful of her sore ribs. “Nobody gets in or out by sea.”

“Wyatt?”

She secured her seat belt. “I called dispatch first. Then Wyatt. Doesn’t hurt to go direct.”

The truck pushed through the snow, the wipers fighting a losing battle against flakes plastering themselves across the windshield.

“State Troopers are responding to the ambush. EMS is en route. Statton’s securing the scene until they arrive.”

Walter kept his eyes on the road. “And Nora?”

“Miller’s with her.”

That was everyone. Everyone except Hudson. She stared out at the white blur beyond the glass. Hudson was alive. That was a fact. She wasn’t going to turn it into a fear. And if he could move, he would head for the cannery.

Walter glanced across. “You think we’ll beat them there?”

“If Hudson’s still in the fight, they’re already behind schedule.” Her gaze returned to the dark road unspooling ahead. “We’ll get there first.”

Walter grunted. “I never liked that building.”

“No.” Neither had she.

The sheriff’s patrol boat was freshly repaired, fueled, and waiting at the municipal dock. They changed vehicles without words. After they pulled on life jackets, Walter stowed the long-gun case and Sarah cast off the lines.

The diesel caught on the second turn.

She pushed the throttle forward, and the boat surged away from the dock. Within seconds, Aurora Cove disappeared behind a curtain of snow. The bow slammed through the chop, rising and dropping, spray exploding across the windshield. The impact jarred through every bruised inch of her body. She locked her elbow against the console until the pain receded, then pushed the boat faster. Beside her, Walter braced against the console, one hand gripping the rail. Snow drove sideways across gunmetal water.

The channel south of Morrow Point was the only deep-water route out. Once the Coast Guard were in position, Hale’s path to open water was gone.