If I Should Die

way to gangs, killing twelve- and thirteen-year-old kids? Lowell. The guns going to Mexico for the drug smugglers to import their shit? Again, Lowell. He is the pivotal cog of the illegal domestic gun trade and if he gets wind of the shit going down tonight, he’ll be three thousand miles away.” As Omar spoke, his eyes brightened and a vein in his temple throbbed. Sampson Lowell was his passion, his religion, his one focus. Lucy realized that nothing she could say would convince Omar that Sean’s life-that anyone’s life-was more important than taking down this illegal arms dealer.

Lucy looked over to see Noah standing in the doorway, listening. Omar saw him too.

“Agent Kincaid, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Lucy looked at him quizzically, then followed him into the storage room. “Isn’t ‘agent’ a little premature?”

“Omar needs to think that you have as much authority as he does, because you’re going to find Callahan and the Swain kid.”

“I’m getting Sean.”

“Let me do that. I’m taking Agent Lewis with me. I don’t trust him.”

“But if Sean is injured-”

“An FBI agent needs to take orders. You’re the psychologist here. You figure out where Jon Callahan is going, and you’re the one who can talk him down. You saw what I saw-Omar has tunnel vision. So does Callahan. Our priority is to save our team, Sean, and the innocent people in town. But I think we can do that and defuse the situation enough to set a trap for Sampson Lowell. If Omar is right and he’s coming here personally, we can’t miss this opportunity to capture him. But not at the expense of people’s lives.”

Noah was right. Her mind ran through scenarios, thinking like Jon Callahan, trying to understand his grief and guilt over losing his love, Victoria. His narrow-minded need for revenge against Bobbie Swain. “I understand.”

She knew what was expected of her as a professional; she needed to put her personal feelings aside. Extremely difficult when the life of the person she loved was in grave danger. But she trusted Noah as much as she trusted Sean. For her, such faith was rare, and it had taken her years to develop the ability to have faith in anyone.

He hesitated, as if not quite sure how to reassure her. He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. “I will rescue Sean. It’s becoming kind of a habit.”

“Don’t tell him that.” But Lucy cracked a half-smile.

“He saved my ass today which made us even, and I kind of prefer being one up on Rogan.”

They walked back into the bar. Noah told Omar the plan hadn’t changed and Lucy filled in Patrick.

“Sean will be okay,” Patrick said to Lucy as much as himself. “He has nine lives.”

“How many has he already used?”

Behind her, she heard Omar Lewis raise his voice. “I don’t work with partners. You have no authority!”

Noah was firm. “My boss and your boss came to the conclusion that shooting at civilians, even without the intent to kill, is gross and negligent behavior. You’ve crossed the line, and I know all the reports you haven’t filed, the check-ins you’ve missed, the orders you’ve disobeyed. I will take your badge and disarm you now, or you can do what I say.”

“Fuck it all, I guess I have no choice.”

“Good. You understand.” Noah nodded to Patrick and Lucy. “I’m getting Sean.”

The distant rumble of a powerful explosion shook the foundation of the bar and rattled the glasses. Lucy grabbed the counter and watched as three glasses fell off a shelf and hit the floor behind the bar.

“Holy shit!” Patrick exclaimed.

Omar kicked over a table. “I’ll kill him!”

“Stand down, Agent Lewis!” Noah demanded.

“That came from the marijuana warehouses. Callahan must have blown them up! Do you understand what this means? Thirteen months of the perfect setup, gone.” He threw a chair across the room.

Noah rushed Omar and pushed him against the wall. Several pictures fell to the floor, the glass breaking. Omar pushed back, but Noah had his forearm against his chest and the strength of both training and anger. “Listen to me, Lewis,” Noah said. “I will not repeat myself. I am in charge from this moment forward. You will control your temper. You will do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”

Omar bared his teeth, breathing hard, his eyes narrowed. “Yes. Sir.”

Noah stepped back and Omar put his hands on the bar and looked down. “If you only knew how many deaths Sampson Lowell is responsible for.”

Noah offered his understanding. “We’ll get him. It might not be tonight, but we’ll get him.”

“Before how many more people die?”

“Are you with me? Or do I have to lock you in the storage room?”

“I’m with you.”

“Good, because we’re short on numbers and I need everyone working together.”

Lucy had some sympathy for Omar and his fury at Sampson Lowell. There were some people in the world who didn’t deserve to live, who were individually responsible for destroying the lives of countless others. There was no doubt in her mind that Lowell was one of the few so evil and ruthless, he needed to be destroyed. And she wished she could be part of taking him down, because she had known others, like him, who were so deadly that the justice system wouldn’t be able to stop them.

But love had to win over hate, and saving Sean took precedence over stopping a bad guy.

“There will be another chance to take down Sampson Lowell,” Lucy told Omar. “But if Sean dies, he won’t have a second chance.”

After Adam left Tim at the lodge, he drove his old beat-up four-wheel-drive truck as close to the Callahan property as he dared. He didn’t know what kind of security Bobbie and her people had surrounding the place, but if Gary Clarke and the others were still at the Fosters’ house, at least her team was divided. He knew these woods as well as anyone who had grown up in Spruce Lake.

The only way to get to the house and rescue Henry and Emily was to run through a clearing. He’d been in the house several times in the past, and from this angle, he could see the kitchen and living area brightly lit on the right, and a dim light on the opposite side of the house. All blinds were closed, and he hoped Jon was right that Henry and Emily were in the downstairs bedroom.

He sprinted across the clearing toward the faint light on the left, praying he wasn’t shot in the back.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Tied to a chair in the Callahans’ dining room under the reproduction of The Last Supper, Sean had been watching Bobbie Swain for two hours. She was a walking contradiction- strategic about her business, but with no common sense. Her voice had a melodic lilt, but her words were crude. She was volatile, but maintained a tight control over herself, so tight that Sean could see the battle raging behind her green eyes.

In fact, her temper was simmering, ready to boil over. She was having a harder time controlling herself, which could be problematic. When she was in control, she was shrewd and smart; when she was out of control, she was more of a loose cannon.

He needed to use Bobbie’s temper against her, but how? An explosion brought his strategizing to an abrupt halt. Bobbie completely lost it. Any chance of calming her down or reasoning with her was gone.

She knew exactly what had happened and who to blame, which made Sean think the explosion wasn’t wholly a surprise.

“I want Jon Callahan here!” she screamed at the guy named Ian. “He’s the only one who has access to my explosives. I never thought he had the balls to fuck with me.”

“Omar is out looking for him.”

“Callahan walks in here, he’s dead. The deal is OFF! You think Sampson is going to show up now? Do you know what Callahan has done? I had it all planned so perfectly. I would have slid into Sampson Lowell’s operation