I get in through the garden gate and the back door, which I’d left unlocked the night I was taken and which is thankfully still unlocked. My dogs immediately rush me, and I take a minute to breathe a sigh of relief and give them both head scratches and treats. They have an automatic feeder and a dog door, so they haven’t been starving or trapped inside. But the German Shepherd brothers I’ve raised since they were puppies were as distressed when I vanished as I was to be suddenly separated from them. I’m a little pissed that one of my fellow officers didn’t bring them into the station for safekeeping, but at the same time, removing them from the house without me would have stressed them out even more. Either way, I’m glad they’re here now.

As much as I want to collapse into my own bed, this house isn’t safe anymore. I have no way of knowing if Silver and hisentiregang are dead. Now that so many of their number have been killed, retaliation against me is likely.

I pack a bag of essential clothes, toiletries, and the dogs’ things, then hussle us all out the door to my car. We go straight to the police station, where the receptionist, Georgie, looks so shocked to see me I’m afraid she’ll pass out.

“Sheriff?” she squeaks. “Where have you-”

“Later, Georgie,” I say. “Give me-” I look at the clock on the wall. It’s closing in on midnight. “-until tomorrow,” I finish. “It’s been a long day.”

I jerk awake when my dogs stir. A sharp ache pulses through my ribs, making it hard to breathe. Maybe I should’ve taken a detour to the hospital last night.

The sun streams through the windows of my office. The door is ajar, and Cassidy Elwood, longtime police officer and my deputy sheriff, stands in the doorway, staring dumbfounded.

“If you tell me you’ve been here the entire time, I’m gonna be real fuckin’ embarassed,” he says.

He’s on the far side of 40, with a bit of a beer belly, worry lines etched into his forehead, and a mustache bristly enough to brush a horse with. He’s an anxious man, but generally good humored. The most I need to know is that my dogs like him and he’s deferential to authority. As in, me.

Chance and Justice mill around his legs as I sit up and struggle to rub the sleep out of my eyes. “Not exactly the entire time,” I tell him. “Sorry I didn’t call you. I was exhausted.”

“That’s what Georgie said. What the hell happened, Derrick?” He pets Chance and Justice absently as they mill about his legs. “We got several calls from your neighborhood about broken windows and gunshots, but when we showed up you were gone!”

“Yeah, someone broke in,” I say, reciting the altered truth I developed last night before I passed out in my chair. “They were old members of the Speare mafia group, wanting retaliation. I got off a few shots but managed to run out of the house before they could grab me.”

“You didn’t come straight here?” Cassidy demands. “Some of us were convinced we were searching for your body!”

“I didn’t get a chance to grab my phone and I left the house on foot. Spent most of the night and yesterday running from them. Twisted my knee and had to lie low. As soon as I lost them I went back to the house and grabbed the boys. And then I passed out right where I’m sitting.”

Cassidy’s mouth hangs open in horror. “Jesus… You’ve stopped by the hospital, right?”

I shake my head. “There wasn’t time. I need to get on the phone with the mayor. We need to launch an investigation on these guys. Silver- that’s their boss’s name-”

“Woah, woah,” Cassidy says, holding up his hands. “Slow down. You’ve been missing since the night before last, you look like you’ve been sleeping in a ditch, and you’re hurt. Let’s take one thing at a time.”

“How am I supposed to go home until this guy is caught?” I demand. “He came into my house. Nearly shot me to death.”

“I know, but-”

“This is all because I took down Morgan Speare but didn’t make sure all the loose ends were tied. I’m not going to rest until they are.”

What a soundbite. Shame I said it to my deputy sheriff and not the press. Still, this is the seed being planted. The people I work with need to be the first ones to see how serious I am about facing this new threat. When I make an official statement about going after Silver, they’ll all be ready to give glowing testimony about my passion and resolve.

This is the boost my career has been waiting for, the thing that will catapult me beyond a successful term as Sheriff and to greater heights. I finally have a goal to chase that won’t bring me into conflict with Thomas Warwick.

State senate? Congress? The presidency? Suddenly, it all feels possible again.

All I have to do is confirm that Silver is dead, and if he isn’t, to bring him to justice myself. What better revenge for what he put me through?

And worse, what his people put Raleigh through.

During my entire escape last night, I did my best not to think about how I left her. I have no doubt she’ll be found soon enough, that physically, she’ll be okay. But emotionally? I humiliated her after her autonomy had already been violated bySilver. She came to me for comfort even after that, and I took advantage of her trust and ran.

It doesn’t matter. With any luck, you’ll never see her again, because with any luck, you’ll never be brought back to the Warwick estate now that you’ve escaped.

And yet, my guilt persists.

Focus on the work, Derrick. That’s all that matters. It’s all that’s ever mattered.

And yet. And yet.