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That wasn’t necessarily something that gave Emmett pause or reason for concern, but when the stranger noticed Emmett and locked gazes with him,thatdid.

To make matters worse, the man glanced over his shoulder. Not once. Not twice. But three times.

Emmett understood that cops made a lot of people nervous. But this guy wasn’t just jittery. He looked downright terrified. The man glanced around the diner.

Emmett rested his hand on his weapon.

The man looked familiar. Emmett knew he’d seen him somewhere, only it hadn’t been in Lighthouse Cove.

Where, then?

He searched the files in his brain, but he couldn’t place the face.

The man inched closer, keeping his focus on Emmett and nowhere else. “Do you have a minute?” the man asked as he stood at the end of the booth.

“Sure,” Emmett said. His job was to protect and serve all citizens. This man was no exception.

“May I sit down?”

Emmett nodded.

“I apologize for interrupting. I won’t take up too much of your time.” The man scratched the side of his face as he eased onto the bench, barely sitting on the edge. His beard was long and tangled, his hair much the same. He smelled like five-day-old cheese left out in the elements.

“What can I help you with?” Emmett asked.

“I was hoping you could get a message to someone.” The man glanced over his shoulder.

“Who?”

“My daughter.”

“What’s her name?” Emmett took his hand off his pistol and rested both on the table as a sign that he wasn’t threatened in any way. However, something about this man worried Emmett.

“Everything is in this envelope.” The man took out a legal-sized package from inside his coat. “You can open it once they’ve taken me away.”

“Once who has taken you away?” Emmett’s pulse kicked up a notch. He kept his hands flattened on the table, but he was ready for anything.

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to know that when this is over, you’re going to give this to my daughter.”

“I need to know your name and hers if I’m going to do that.” He needed to know a lot more about this guy and what the hell was going on, but he’d start there.

His radio crackled in his ear. “Emmett. Where are you?” His mother’s voice came over the radio. “We’re about to have a situation at the diner. State, feds, and SWAT are rolling in.”

Shit. He blinked. It all came together like a kaleidoscope in his brain. The images pinned to the board at the station flashed in his mind.

Jeff Allen.

Serial killer.

Emmett tapped the mic on his shoulder. “I’m at the diner right now,” he said. “Having breakfast.”

“They aren’t going to let me walk out of here alive.” Jeff pushed the envelope across the table. “Please. Make sure she gets it. My legacy depends on it.” He stood.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Emmett jumped to his feet.

Tears rolled down Jeff’s cheeks and into his facial hair. “I didn’t do it. I’ve killed only one man in my life, and I served my time in prison for it. I didn’t murder anyone else. Tell my daughter that. Make her believe it.” Jeff took a step back and pulled out a gun. He waved it around like a wild animal. “No one is leaving,” he said. “Give me your weapon or I’ll start shooting.”

“If you fire that pistol, I won’t be able to tell your daughter anything.” Carefully, Emmett unholstered his service revolver and handed it to Jeff as he continued to assess the situation.

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