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tell. The closet was open. A single window.

Wait, there might be a hallway.... He shifted a bit forward. Yes. An open door to Langdon’s right looked like a hallway leading to other rooms. He’d go around, then, and leave O’Leary here.

He pulled back, motioned for the agent to stay put and went to the right. The narrow hall creaked with every step. He kept his gun ready, his eyes open until he reached a doorway on his left. Peeking in, he caught a glimpse of shaggy brown hair and blankets. Langdon’s guard asleep on the bed.

That made things easy. He zipped into the bedroom and took care of the guard. He’d sleep for a few hours and wake up with a headache.

Satisfied, he stalked to the door that led to Langdon’s room. He paused in the entry, aimed his gun and said softly, “I didn’t take you for stupid.”

Langdon startled, whipping his head up and looking wildly around. His eyes were bloodshot, his chin whiskered. Dirty light filtered in from the small window behind him.

“Had a tough time lately?” Lou goaded. “Lost your girl, business is shut down, times are hard all around. Where’re your goons? The one sleeping in the bed was easy to take care of. I expected more from you.” He showed his teeth in what might pass as a smile to some. “Stand up.”

Langdon glared at him but did as he said. “I hope you have a warrant.” His sneer was filled with arrogance.

“Got it and more. You’re facing quite a bit of time, you know. Your cohorts are snitches, every one of them. Got no loyalty to you.”

“You have nothing.”

“I’ve an eyewitness to attempted murder.”

“Who?” he scoffed.

Lou’s lips twitched. “Me.”

Langdon’s face visibly paled. His eyes darted. “Says who? I want my lawyer.”

“You’ll get him. Make no mistake about that. In the meantime, why don’t we have a little chat. Off the record.” Lou used his shoe to flip the door behind him closed. He stepped into the room, keeping his revolver trained on his quarry. No doubt Langdon had some kind of pistol stored on his person.

“I’m not talking.”

“Sure you are. We’ll just have a nice little chat about Mary.” Lou looked down the barrel of his .38. “She’s a special lady. You’ve had your eye on her for a long time, and the way I figure things, your time is about up. In fact, it’s been up.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Langdon said stiffly. His fingers clenched at his side, inching toward a pocket.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you. At this range, there’s no way I’d miss that pretty face of yours. I don’t think you’d like that.”

Langdon’s fingers wavered, then slowly moved into a more relaxed position.

“That’s a good smuggler,” Lou murmured. “Here’s the thing—you’ll be done following Mary. You’ll leave her alone and never set foot in Harney County again.”

“Or what?”

The silky arrogance of his voice set Lou’s teeth on edge. He just wanted to shoot this guy, get rid of him forever. He could feel the anger burning through his veins.

“You don’t want to find out. I expect you’ll be put away for a long, long time.”

Langdon’s face twisted suddenly. All the smoothness left it, the spoiled surety wiped away by a bitterness Lou hadn’t expected to see.

“You think you know everything.” Langdon spat on the floorboards. “Mary’s nothing to me, but I plan to ruin her just like her mother ruined my father.”

Well, this was new. Lou narrowed his eyes. “You’re out for revenge?”

“Justice, the kind the law doesn’t mete out. The kind God forgets to give. Mary thinks God is watching out for her, but she’s wrong. He looks out for no man. Her mother destroyed my father. Stole his money, broke his heart and left him a withered, whupped old man. He killed himself a year later. I was sixteen. Mary’s mother, Rose—” he said her name with vitriol, his face marred by angry lines “—will pay for what she did to me. God doesn’t hand out justice, but I do.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Lou asked in a deliberately bored tone.

“Because I want you to know that I will never, ever give up. Mary is my revenge, and it doesn’t hurt that she has a face a man doesn’t forget. This will never be over until Rose feels the torture my family experienced. You can put me away—” Langdon’s voice lowered to a hiss “—but you will never stop me.”

Lou’s finger itched to stroke the trigger. A bit of pressure. That was all it would take to make this mess go away.

And then he’d be no better than Langdon. Using his power to get what he wanted. Believing God had no place in his actions, that God didn’t care. Lou swallowed, his throat tight.

Right now, with the mustiness of the room in his nose, the impaired light that washed Langdon into shadows, Lou felt as if his soul was being tested. As if his decision at this moment would affect the rest of his life.

He looked at Langdon and saw himself. The anger over his past. Everything that had gone wrong, things he had no control over, things he’d believed God should control. He’d read enough of the Bible as a kid to know it said God gave each person a free will to make his or her own choices.

But Sarah and Abby hadn’t chosen to get sick. They hadn’t chosen death. It had chosen them.

His stomach clenched, but his aim didn’t waver. Langdon watched him carefully, his entire being poised in stillness. Whether they had chosen sickness or not, he didn’t want to be like Langdon, letting his bitterness over the past poison him until there was nothing left but evil. Maybe Langdon had been born this way; maybe there was something off with his mind that had nothing to do with his childhood.

Nevertheless, Lou felt as if he’d come to some kind of crossroads. A place to make a choice

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