Page 56 of The Familiar Stranger

“Throw me the stick,” he grunted.

I tossed the cane back to him.

My mind whirred. I had been unprepared for the showdown—just reacting instead of working within my typical well-planned offensive. Terrence was going to shoot to kill.

I need one more chance.One more chance to make things right. To put him behind bars, protect my loved ones.

The click of the gun cocking echoed in the wind.

A voice from behind the dune rang out. “Terrence Slade, put the gun down.”

Every part of my body was trembling, and I fought to stay upright. Relief surged through me, and I gave in to the feeling, falling to the sand …

A gunshot cracked through the air.

I jolted and covered my head. It was impossible to tell for sure, but it seemed like I could hear the whoosh of the bullet near my ear.

Then more gunshots. I stayed low.

“How could I have missed her? Such an easy shot,” Terrence said, like he was talking to himself. Then, shouting now, “You’re good, officers. But you didn’t hit the bullseye. Not yet.”

I lifted my head. Terrence had shifted his position, taking cover behind several massive boulders.

I turned and saw two officers.

They dropped to their bellies amidst the sea grass and shrubs.

If one of their bullets hit the boulders, it could ricochet and hit any one of us.

I prayed they had backup.

“Officers, I care not if I live or die,” Terrence bellowed. “Just stay out of my way while I take care of some unfinished business.”

Another shot rang out.

This time, Terrence hit his mark.

CHAPTER37

The bullet sent me onto my back, white-hot pain searing my shoulder. My mouth open and closed, but nothing came out. No air, no words. Someone in the distance was calling for an ambulance.

Then I heard, “He’s running. Go, go, go,” and the sound of feet bulldozing through the sand.

I turned, trying to get a look at what was happening down the beach. Pushing up on my one good arm, I shouted for them to take him down, not to let him get away. I lifted to my feet, holding my hand over the bullet wound, and saw the officers running, then slowing, turning their guns toward the dunes, spanning the space.

Terrence was nowhere in sight.

Had he gotten away?

Disbelief had me dropping to my knees. I glanced at my shoulder, at the hole burned through my sweatshirt, all the sand and blood mixing together into a thick paste.

I fell onto my back once again and tried to slow my breathing, to will the shock to subside, so I could find the killer and …

Do what, Sloane?

You have no weapon.

I don’t know how long I lay there. More officers had arrived, as did the EMTs, who were working on me now.

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