Page 99 of Critical Doubt

His truck was parked down the street, in the direction of the motel that Savannah had noticed earlier. Along the way, he scanned the block for a familiar face. To his utter shock, he finally found one. Todd came out of a newsstand with a pack of cigarettes in his hand. "There he is."

"I see him," Savannah said.

Todd had stopped walking, his head down as he paused to light his cigarette.

"I'm going to cross the street and come up behind him," she murmured. "Just in case he runs."

He barely heard her. He was completely focused on Todd. He slowly crept forward and was about twenty feet away when Todd looked up and saw him. Todd froze, then tossed his cigarette on the ground and took off running in the other direction.

He ran after him, wishing his knee was a hundred percent, but he was determined not to let Todd get away. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he sprinted down the street. He didn't know where Savannah had gone, but maybe she could cut him off.

Todd made an abrupt turn, dashing through the alley between two buildings.

He followed, picking up the pace as Todd paused to throw a couple of trash cans out of his way, allowing him to close the gap between them.

With one last extra burst of speed, he tackled Todd, throwing him to the ground.

Todd scrambled away, taking a swing at his face. He ducked, and Todd's fist only landed a glancing blow. He swung left, then right, connecting to Todd's cheekbone, his shoulder. Then he shoved him back against the wall. Todd's head bounced off the stucco, and he gave him a dazed look.

Ryker pulled the gun out from under his jacket. "Don't move."

Todd stared back at him, his left hand moving toward his waistband.

"Don't do it," Ryker warned.

"You won't shoot me," Todd said, but there was doubt in his voice.

"He might not, but I will," Savannah said, coming from the opposite direction, her gun trained on Todd.

"Take out your weapon and put it on the ground and kick it over here," Ryker ordered.

"You don't understand what's going on," Todd said.

"Do what I said."

Todd hesitated, then took out his gun, dropped it on the ground and kicked it in his direction. "It's not what you think," he said.

"You don't have any idea what I think. I know you faked your death, as did Paul. Why?"

"Money," Todd said shortly. "My mother needs better care than I can afford. The job I had wasn't cutting it. Paul was having the same struggles."

"So how are you going to get money? What's the plan?"

"How do you know about Paul?" Todd asked.

Seeing the question in his eyes, Ryker knew that Todd had no idea what had happened last night. "I saw him last night," he said. "Right after someone blew up my car and tried to kill me. Paul stepped in front of a bullet, by the way. He's fighting for his life in a hospital in Chesapeake Beach."

Todd turned white. "That's not true."

"Trying to pretend you don't know someone wanted to kill me?" he asked scornfully. "Or did you also think I was just supposed to be scared off? How the fuck could you believe I'd ever be scared off? Do you not know me at all?"

"I swear I didn't know anyone was trying to kill you. I didn't. You've just been asking so many questions everywhere. We had to find a way to slow you down. We were just going to scare you."

"Well, Paul knew it would be more than that. He saved me. But he might not make it, Todd. He might actually die this time."

Todd swallowed hard.

"By the way, Abby is with him," Ryker continued. "She's wondering how her dead husband could be dying again. You might want to think about the very special hell she's going through right now."

---