MAGGIE’S heart slammed against her chest. Turner had disappeared around a corner and into another alley. She followed without hesitation. Halfway down, she made herself stop. The alley was barely wide enough to accommodate a small vehicle. The moon was only a sliver, leaving dim bulbs to light the way.

She squinted, examining the shadows and trying to listen over the pounding in her ears. Where had they gone? She had been minutes, no, seconds, behind them.

She took careful steps as she proceeded. The cobblestone street was old, with uneven bricks. It would be easy to stumble or trip, to become vulnerable. Still, she didn’t look down. She kept watching, though it was difficult to see beyond fifty feet. Her eyes darted over everything, checking stacks of boxes, doorways, fire escapes, anyplace Stucky could hide. He wouldn’t trick her this time.

Ahead she could see an open space where two cars were parked. A Dumpster blocked her view of the entire area. Behind her in the distance footsteps ran past, missing this narrow alley. From the open space she heard muffled voices. She pushed her body against the grimy brick wall and inched her way along.

She came to the edge of the building and had nowhere else to go. She crouched and snuck behind the Dumpster. Where the hell were Delaney and Milhaven? By now they should have backtracked. Her eyes strained to see to the end of the alley. Now the voices ahead of her were more clear.

“Hold on a minute.” She recognized Turner’s voice. “What the hell do you have there?”

She waited, but there was no answer to his question. If Stucky had a knife, she’d never hear the damage until it was too late. She peeked out just enough to see the back of the leather jacket. Good. He was facing the opposite direction. He wouldn’t see her. But how close was he to Turner?

She heard footsteps, making their way toward her over the cobbles. Damn it! In seconds Stucky would hear them, too, if he hadn’t already.

In one quick motion, she jumped out from behind the Dumpster, legs apart, arms in front, aim focused on the back of the bastard’s head. It wasn’t until she cocked the hammer that she saw Stucky flinch.

“Don’t move an inch, or I’ll blow your goddamn head off.”

“O’Dell,” she heard Turner say.

She could finally see him. He was standing close to the building, a shadow covering most of his face. Maggie couldn’t see if Turner had his gun drawn. Instead, she concentrated on her target, not ten feet away.

“Drop whatever you’re holding and put your hands up behind your head. Do it. Now!” she yelled.

The footsteps behind her slowed. She didn’t turn. Her eyes never left the back of Stucky’s head. He hadn’t moved, but hadn’t obeyed her command either.

“I said hands up. Now, goddamn it!”

“O’Dell, it’s okay,” Turner said.

But there was still no movement, not from Stucky, not from Turner, not from the men behind her. Maggie inched closer. Still, she didn’t flinch. Her finger remained firmly on the trigger, ready to squeeze.

“Last time. Drop what you’re holding and put your hands up, or I’ll blow your skull wide open.” This time the ultimatum came through clenched teeth.

Finally, his hands went up while something slapped against the cobblestone. She could feel it splatter her feet, and knew it was the takeout container he had been carrying. But she refused to look down. She didn’t want to see what part of Rita had been spread all over the ground. Instead, she kept her sights on the base of his skull. At this close range and at this angle, he’d be dead before his body hit the ground.

“Ease up, Maggie,” she heard Delaney say, and suddenly he was beside her.

The others stayed behind them. Turner stepped out so she could see that he hadn’t been injured. Silence filled the alley so completely, she wondered if they were all holding their breaths. Yet, she hadn’t dropped her stance or lowered her weapon.

“Turn around,” she ordered the back of Stucky’s head.

“O’Dell, you can put away your gun,” Turner said, but she didn’t look at him. She wouldn’t slip this time.

“I said turn around, damn it.” Her stomach twisted into a series of knots. Would she be able to look him in the eyes?

He turned slowly. Her finger pressed tighter. All it would take was a split second for her to refocus between his eyes. Then one more second to squeeze the trigger. But she wanted him to see it coming. She wanted him to know what it felt like to know another person had total control over his life. She wanted him to feel fear, and, yes, she wanted to see that fear in his eyes.

The man stared down at her with wide, frightened eyes, a thin, drawn face and shaking bony hands. He looked as if he’d faint from fear. It was the exact reaction Maggie had dreamed about. Only the man was not Albert Stucky.