Mac leaned in close, voice low in her ear. “Thank you for coming for me, Vixen.”
I squeezed his hand tighter.
“I always will.”
Epilogue
The lake house had always been my favorite place. Tucked into the trees, with its creaking dock and wide open view of the water, it was the one spot where everything felt quiet—where the world slowed down enough to let me breathe. Today, though, it was anything but quiet. Laughter spilled from the back deck, where the long table was crammed with food, beer bottles, and more people than the furniture was probably rated for.
A few days ago, Shelly had flown down from Charleston, and now she sat between Maria and Holly, already deep in conversation like they’d known each other for years. I had known they’d click—three smart, stubborn, take-no-bullshit women? It was inevitable. The four of us quickly became a unit, and I believed Maria was doing her damn best to convince Shelly to move down here to Atlanta. I smiled as Shelly laughed her off and sat back, eyeing the men across from her.
Swirling a beer in her hand, eyes sharp as ever, she pinned Mac and Dalton with a look. “I’ve got one rule. You hurt her? I will make sure you regret it.”
Mac raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dalton smirked over the rim of his glass. “We knowthe drill, detective. She’s the queen. We’re just her loyal subjects.”
“Damn right,” Shelly said, clinking her bottle against their whiskey glasses.
I watched everything from the patio door, and Mac looked over at me. His soft smile beckoned me closer, and I walked over, taking a seat on his knee. I leaned back, watching them all—the people I loved most in the world, laughing and teasing each other as the sun sank low over the water, setting the lake on fire with gold and rose. Rodney fiddled with the napkins, occasionally stealing glances at Shelly and then blushing crimson when she would catch him staring. The evening was perfect, but then suddenly Mac’s phone rang, and he scooted me to his other knee so he could grab it.
He glanced down, looked at Dalton, and grinned. “It’s Hartwell.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Hartwell?MyHartwell?”
“Apparently,” he said, then accepted the call and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”
A muffled voice barked through the line loud enough for me to hear. “Damn thing won’t… hold on, I swear this was on speaker—how the hell do I get thecamerato work on this godforsaken phone?! Where’s the button?!”
Mac shook his head and passed me the phone. “Think this one’s for you.”
Dalton leaned forward, and I glanced between the two of them before looking around at the rest of the table. Everyone was watching me.
I took the phone, confused as hell. “Lieutenant?”
“Katie! Finally. Can you hear me?”
“Uh, yes sir, loud and clear. Just think of it like a very fancy walkie-talkie. What’s going on?”
“Give me a second. The tech guy told me this part was simple, but he didn’t mention these stupid touchscreen things are possessed… There, got it!”
The screen flashed, and suddenly I was staring at the familiar Charleston precinct. I blinked. “Is that…?”
“Recognize the place?” Hartwell asked, a rare warmth in his voice.
I nodded and teased, “From my worst nightmares. What’s going on? Everything—”
I stopped speaking, stopped breathing when I caught sight of a handful of people I never expected to see again. They stood in the background, huddled together. Kelly MacIntyre’s aunt. Anastasia Little’s mom and dad. Gabriella Santiago’s whole family—her brother clutching a pint of cookies and cream ice cream.. My stomach flipped, heart rising into my throat.
“Why are they—?”
A door opened just off-screen. A social worker walked in with a hand resting gently on a young girl’s shoulder.
Then another.
Then another.
It was them.
