“Please, just hear me—”
“Shop. Now.” He turned on his heel.
Tears threatened to pour from my eyes. The drive back to the shop was both too long and too short. Kyle followed closely behind me as I pulled into the parking area.
He jammed his truck into park, grinding the gears and skidding to a halt, before he jumped out and started yelling. “Of all the stupid, no good, idiots—”
“I am not an idiot.” I was full on sobbing at this point. “I was chasing a murderer, and if you hadn’t been sleeping, we might have caught him.”
“Sleeping?” He approached me quickly. “Sleeping? You think I would sleep on the job?”
“It sure sounded like it when you responded on the radio.” I took a step back and tripped on something.
When I looked down, a chill ran up my spine. A crumpled up pair of waders sat beneath my feet, exactly like the one I’d seen the man wearing in the Muddy Water Cove. The rubber boots at the end of the pant legs were completely caked in mud.
In an instant, my jumbled thoughts came together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
“You.” I did a mental head slap. How could I have missed it? “But Luke said you had a solid alibi.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kyle’s eyes were huge and red and his face looked demonic in the overhead light.
“You’re the Muddy Water Bandit. You—you killed Ronnie.”
A small smile came over his face. “And what makes you think that?”
I looked down at the waders beneath my feet. “She saw you. She was telling the truth.”
“Who saw me do what? No one saw anything.” He took another step toward me. I had to do something. I pulled the pepper spray from my belt.
“You think that’s going to protect you? You already sprayed me once and look how much good that did.”
He was right. Aside from the red eyes, it didn’t seem to have much effect on him.
“Vaseline. Works like a charm.”
“How did you know I’d spray you?”
“Last night when you found me, you seemed only too ready.”
“You were out setting traps, weren’t you? You haven’t been taking them up to the storage block. You’ve been reusing them.”
“I think that’s about enough out of you. I’d have let you turn in your badge and leave but you had to get smart on me.”
He lunged with the speed of a rattlesnake and the strength of a gorilla.
I had no chance.
His hands were wrapped around my neck squeezing so hard I thought my eyes might pop out of my head.
I tried to scream, but air couldn’t escape my lips. I kicked at him, but it was no use. If only I could get to my radio. I reached up and grasped at where the mic sat on my shoulder.
The red emergency button was within my grasp until Kyle threw me to the ground. He ripped my mic from my hand and pulled the radio from my belt. I scrambled away from him resisting the urge to rub my bruised neck.
My phone. I had to get to my phone. I reached for my pocket but it wasn’t there. Had it fallen out?
I stood and made a run for Cherry Anne when Kyle reached into the bed of his truck.
Ten feet.
Five.
Two.
I stretched for the door handle but came up short—something rough closed tight around my windpipe. Rope. Probably the same kind of rope that killed Ronnie.
The circulation in my face cut off. Darkness closed in on my vision as I clawed at the rope trying, and failing, to get my fingers between it and my skin.
He would stuff me into a trap like he had Ronnie. My mother would feel so guilty that we hadn’t made up. She’d cry over my lifeless, bloated body.
And Luke, I should have texted him back.
Nikki would probably laugh and think good riddance.
And Antonio—Antonio was . . . there.
Wait, what?
My body fell to the dirt, my vision spotted and disjointed. Air rushed back into my lungs, burning, and I felt like I might pass out.
Someone—Antonio—had Kyle on the ground, trying to wrestle the rope from his hands.
I tried to sit up, tried to help, but my vision was closing in. Antonio wasn’t winning, but he wasn’t losing either. He almost had Kyle pinned when the world went dark.
I woke up with a killer headache to a sterile scent that reminded me of the time I’d gotten my appendix removed.
The hospital.
My hands went to my neck where they found soft bandages. I was alive.
I looked around to find my mother resting in a chair in the corner of the room.
“Mom?” I croaked out.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Rylie? Oh sweetheart!” She hurried over and scooped my hand up in both of hers. “I’m so sorry we fought.”
“No, Mom, I’m sorry. I should have never—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted. “I almost lost you. If it wasn’t for that co-worker of yours, I might have.”
“Antonio.” The memory of him and Kyle wrestling flooded back to me. “Is he okay?”
“I am fine,” the Italian-laced voice said from the doorway. “And I’m happy to see you’re okay too.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much for saving me.” Tears welled in my eyes. “How did you know?”
Antonio looked down at his feet, the first bit of insecurity I’d ever seen on him. “I was so stupid. I vouched for him, but I didn’t know, I swear. If I had, this might have never happened.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Kyle was supposed to have been at my party the night of the murder. I thought he was. I told the police he was. But then tonight when his wife told you he’d gotten the flu . . .” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I never should have left you with him but it was so hard to believe he could be a murderer.”
“It’s okay. At least you came back.” I smiled. “But why murder Ronnie?”
“Kyle’s an obsessive fisherman. He’s been fishing the reservoir since it opened, since they introduced catfish. He’s studied all the techniques,
