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pressed his fingers to his lips then to the tombstone, got up and left.

Who had he visited? His parents were buried in New Orleans, not in Charlottesville. Amy tried to read the name on the tombstone, but it was too blurry.

The doorbell rang. Amy automatically checked the tablet. A blond-haired man in a black suit and a light-colored shirt stood outside the front door. One hand had a manila envelope and the other pushed his black-framed glasses in place. He looked like one of the forensic guys.

Amy hurried to open the door before he could ring the doorbell again. Raelynn was still asleep. “Yes, can I help you?”

He smiled. “Ms. Kincaid, I’m William Burgess. We need to talk.”

CHAPTER 16

“About?” Amy asked.

“Nolan Reither.” He rolled back his sleeve and raised his hand. The eye of Horus tattoo stared at her.

Amy’s stomach dropped, and the instinct to survive took over. She grabbed the door frame, shifted her weight to her left foot and slammed him with a side-kick, catching him on the chest. He stumbled backwards, lost his footing on the top step and landed on his butt in the grass, the envelope flying from his hand.

She slammed the door and ran. Her mouth dried up with terror, her heart threatening to burst from her chest. Any second, she expected to hear the sound of the door being kicked in. She grabbed her Glock from under her mattress, loaded it while moving toward the door.

Where the hell was her cell phone? She’d used it earlier in the living room. She wished she hadn’t unplugged the landline. Gripping the gun with both hands, crisp breaths coming in painful gasps, she stepped into the hallway and pointed the gun left then right.

No one was there.

Swallowing her fear, she closed the door softly behind her and moved slowly toward the living room, her back to the wall. Any moment, she expected Nolan’s man to come flying toward her.

Anger rolling through her, she looked around for any sudden movements and inched closer to the coffee table. Just as she reached for her cell phone, the doorbell rang again. The sound echoed around the quiet room and she jumped, her eye flying to the tablet and the activated feed from the front door.

Why would this man risk coming to her house in broad daylight? It didn’t make sense. She grabbed her cell phone to call Eddie, but she realized she didn’t have his cell phone number. She punched in 911.

“911, What’s—”

“I need assistance.” Her voice squeaked and was barely audible.

“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t catch that. What’s your emergency?”

“My name is Amy Kincaid. I need help. Tell Captain Briggs.”

“What is the nature of your emergency?”

“William Burgess is at the Fitzgerald’s lake house. Please, I need help.” She ended the call and pocketed the phone then moved closer to the door. A clammy mixture of ice and dread knotted her stomach. Beads of sweat dripped down her back and her knees quaked with each step, but she refused to cower. The man was not coming inside the house.

She glanced through the peep hole. He was still there. Her stomach tightened and her damp hand was slippery against the rough grip of the weapon.

“You’ve got some nerve coming here after everything you’ve put me through,” she said, still watching him.

“I know you’ve already called the police, Ms. Kincaid. If you want to know the truth about Nolan, shut up and listen to me. Nolan is a very sick and twisted man and—”

“You work with him. What does that make you?”

“A fool for allowing him to blackmail me. He will not stop until you’re dead.”

Tell me something I don’t already know. Maybe if she kept him talking, the police might get here in time to nab him. And then there was the cameras recording his every word. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

“Because I was with him the night he killed your fiancé.”

For one brief moment, Amy’s mind went blank. Then like a white squall, the past flashed through her head with a vengeance. Only this time, the face of her attacker was Nolan’s. Anger slammed into her. This man was the key to stopping Nolan and she wasn’t letting fear paralyze her.

Her heart pounding, Amy unlocked the door. The snap of the bolt scraping along its socket echoed around the foyer and her stomach lurched. You trained for this…you are ready…you are strong... Repeating the words in her head, she opened the door and wedged the nozzle in the opening. Feeling sick to her stomach, she pointed the gun at Burgess’s chest, stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” Her voice came out calm although her heart pounded and her stomach churned with dread.

He didn’t seem surprised or scared, and neither did he raise his arms. Instead, the corners of his lips lifted into a smile. “You’re full of surprises, Ms. Kincaid.”

“I’m sick and tired of being pushed around by you and Nolan. I’m done running.”

“Somehow I knew you’d say that, but you have no idea who you’re dealing with. You see this?” he indicated the tattoo then licked his thumb and rubbed at it. It smudged. “It is fake, just like the ones we wore the night Nolan killed your fiancé. He’s smart, he’s ingenious and he will not stop—”

“I heard you the first time.” Her voice rose. She took a breath and added calmly, “Sit.”

Burgess shook his head. “No, Ms. Kincaid. I will not sit. I plan to walk away after I’m done here because you will not shoot me, an unarmed man who’s not attacking you. You are not a killer.”

Her hands shook and her finger grew twitchy on the trigger. In her gut, she knew she couldn’t hurt someone without provocation, but the terror she’d gone through at Nolan’s hand egged her on. Her chin shot up. “Try me.”

Once again, he didn’t show any signs of fear. He lifted the manila

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