prologue

JUST OUTSIDE ATLANTA

Fear rushed through Jesse Carroll as he felt the barrel of a gun pressing into his back.

Why the hell had he agreed to Zack’s invitation to sneak a few minutes off to smoke a cigarette and maybe take a swallow of that good ’shine Zack usually carried?

The rough, almost overgrown road was just off their beats, a piece of private property being held for future development. Even the entrance was difficult to see.

Zack had known the old man who’d owned it until his death two years ago. It was then purchased by a holding company. An old shack on the property still stood, but a heavy chain had been added across the entrance to block any traffic from entering.

The property was outside Zack’s rounds, but he drove by every day on his way to the office, and tonight the chain was gone. He’d called Jesse on his cell and suggested he and his rookie meet him and take a look around. Jesse knew it was merely an excuse to meet. Zack always carried that ’shine Jesse liked, and he didn’t like drinking alone. Like Zack, Jesse would have been alone if Kell, a rookie officer, hadn’t been training with him.

Meeting like this wasn’t in the training manual.

But it often got lonely and boring in this part of the county where little happened except for the occasional speeder. So on especially dull nights, Zack and Jesse sometimes met in a secluded place, shared stories, took a sip or two.

Why hadn’t he said no? Instead, he’d sworn Kell to silence and driven down the road to the remnants of a cabin. He’d looked for Zack’s headlights. Instead he saw the silhouette of a darkened blue-and-white squad car. Then another car behind it.

He stopped the car, took out his weapon and stepped out. Lights from the squad car flashed on, blinded him. At the same moment, something hard and small and round pressed into his back.

Jesse’s heart pounded. A shadowy figure pushed Zack forward. His figure blocked the blinding light. One handcuff dangled from his wrist.

“What the hell …?” He stopped, then started again. “This is one hell of a joke, Zack.” He peered frantically into the darkness. “Who’s out there? This ain’t funny.”

The figure seized his left wrist and hooked him to Zack. Still another man took his handcuffs from his belt and hooked his right one to Kell’s left hand. It was done so quickly, so professionally, he knew it must be a cop. Had to be.

A joke. Had to be one. Probably aimed at Kell, the rookie.

He kept telling himself that. The only other explanation was too awful to consider.

So far he’d been the only one to speak. Kell remained silent, but Jesse felt the trainee’s tension. Smelled the fear.

He blinked against the glare of the flashlight. He turned to avoid it and saw one man who stood alone. Lou Belize. He froze. God, he was a dead man.

A deer in headlights. That’s exactly how he felt. And the truck was coming right at him! Did Kell realize they were up to their eyebrows in shit?

Fear exploded in him.

Hooked to the other two men, he couldn’t run, though that was exactly what he wanted to do. Kell muttered something, but Jesse couldn’t make out the words. Zack slumped, and now Jesse saw the blood on his face, the way his free hand clutched his stomach. Someone had worked him over.

Belize came up to him. “This pig said you just happened to come here.”

Jesse nodded, afraid his voice might reflect the stark terror he now felt.

“No one told you about this place?”

Jesse tried to think. Hold out and play for more time. But Zack’s expression revealed he’d already told everything. “We were just going to have a drink,” he said, hating the tremor he heard in his voice.

“A cop? Isn’t that illegal?” Belize sneered.

Jesse didn’t answer.

Belize stepped back behind the light.

Jesse was only too aware of the revolver still pressed against his back. He closed his eyes and thought of Sarah, and little James. Jesse and James. It had been Sarah’s little joke when she crawled over him on those nights they made love.

If he hadn’t fought with her tonight, he never would have agreed to meet Zack for a quick bite of moonshine. Every bar would be closed on his way home, and a sip or two would relax him. Same old fight. She wanted him to quit and get a safe job. She couldn’t understand why he loved being a cop, how he enjoyed the comaraderie he shared with others of the breed.

“Do it!” Lou Belize ordered.

He frantically looked around for help. Shadows. They were all shadows. Then he saw a figure he knew instantly. He couldn’t see the man’s face but he didn’t have to.

A mistake. It had to be a mistake.

He started to call out, but the sound was interrupted by the blast of a gunshot. Kell’s weight dragged him down.

“Sarah,” he whispered.

He never heard the second shot, as the bullet tore into his skull.