My Killer Vacation

What do I know?

One, Kurt obviously doesn’t care if he gets caught. There are countless houses positioned along the beach, all of them facing the water and the sun has barely gone down. People are awake. Roasting hot dogs. Likely watching this whole scene unfold and probably calling the police. Not to mention, Jude has seen him holding a gun on Taylor. Kurt is potentially unbalanced. He’s not going to act reasonably.

Two, Kurt’s motive is revenge. We arrested his boss. Cost him his job. One or both of them is going to be charged with the murder of Oscar Stanley—depending on Rhonda’s knowledge of Kurt’s actions. But I was present when the police questioned Rhonda Robinson—and unless she’s the world’s greatest actress, she doesn’t know what Kurt did to prevent Evergreen Corp. from being exposed. Out of loyalty.

Loyalty to the mayor.

Dedication.

I can use that.

My hands are shaking as I punch out a quick text to Wright, shoving my phone quickly into my back pocket once again. “Back up slowly, Jude,” I say, trying to sound reassuring, even though my heart is in my mouth. “We’re going to get Taylor back safely. You know I’m going to do everything I can to make that happen.”

Jude hesitates for another few seconds, then finally crawls up the remaining stairs, sitting on the grass landing with his head in his hands. Red and white lights flash at the bottom of the hill. Finally. Sirens turned off, as instructed, they race up the street and pull to a stop at haphazard angles. Wright climbs out of his vehicle first and jogs over to me, handing over the bullhorn and a phone, a call live on the screen, seconds ticking upward.

With those tools in hand, I move toward the staircase, praying like hell my appearance doesn’t set Kurt off. Or induce him to pull the trigger. If he’s going after Taylor, it’s because of her role in the investigation. I was involved, too, more heavily than she was. He’s seen us together. He picked the only one of us he could bully, but I wouldn’t put it past him to use violence against Taylor to pay me back for my role in the case. He doesn’t have an earthly clue how much it would ruin me, though. My fucking heart would stop beating.

I could let the police chief run point on this, but I can’t put her safety in someone else’s hands. I won’t do it. Especially when there is a chance they were planning on covering for the mayor and therefore might be operating in a morally gray area.

I take another several steps and they come into view. Kurt. Taylor. The gun. My stomach lurches violently at the sight of my Taylor with her hands up, trembling. I can tell she’s trembling from here. She looks so fragile from this distance and I’m going to kill this motherfucker. I’m going to kill him. Scalding hot rage starts to bleed into my thoughts, blur them together, but I fight to remain calm. Composed. Thinking clearly. Taylor is at stake.

Our life together is at stake.

Did I really think I could just walk away from her?

I would sell my soul to the devil to be holding her right now. To hold her forever.

“Kurt,” I call, as evenly as possible. “This is Myles Sumner. Do you know me?”

He takes a step closer to Taylor, as if he means to grab her, use her as a shield, and she lurches backward, out of his reach. Good girl. She can see what I see. That despite being a murderer, he’s not confident holding a gun. He can barely hold it up at this stage. He’s using his opposite hand to brace his elbow.

“Of course I know you,” he shouts up the stairs. “I know everything that happens here. It’s my job. I’m good at my job.”

This is what I was hoping for. Pride in his work. Dedication to the job and loyalty to Rhonda Robinson. “Is Taylor all right?”

“She won’t be for much longer. I was just waiting for you. I wanted you to see this.”

My throat closes in.

This is how he’s going to come for me. A fight between us would be a mismatch, but he can knock me out in a death blow by pulling that trigger. “You don’t want to hurt Taylor.” I’m all but gasping for air when I say that, so I take a moment to regain control. “You’re not a killer, Kurt. Just a man who goes above and beyond for his job.”

“I’m not buying your attempts at psychology.”

“That’s fine, man. But the mayor needs to speak with you.”

“What?” He lowers the gun in surprise, but raises it back up just as quickly. “She’s not here. She’s in custody.”

But he’s splitting his attention now between me and Taylor. Good.

Just have to keep chipping away until it’s all on me and she can escape.

I bring the phone to my ear. “Mayor Robinson?” I say into the receiver.

“Yes,” she responds, briskly, but with an underlying weariness. “I didn’t know about Kurt. I didn’t know—”

“You were briefed by Wright?” I cut in.

She sighs. “I was, yes.”

“Good.” I swallow hard, inhaling and exhaling through a wave of dizziness. “Please. I need you to talk him down. He’s holding a gun on my girlfriend. If something happens to her…”

“I understand. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt over this. Put me on.”

The sudden confidence in her tone doesn’t make me feel better. Nothing is going to make me feel better until Taylor is out of the line of fire. Praying to a maker who I haven’t spoken to in a very long time, I hold the phone up to the bullhorn.

Rhonda’s voice carries down to the beach, accompanied by an opening squeal of feedback. “Kurt?”

The assistant’s head whips around. “Mayor?”

She can’t hear his response. Not yet, anyway. But she continues as if he’s listening. “I knew the day I hired you that it was one of the best decisions I ever made. And you have never let me down. Not once. There is no one on my staff that I trust more. No one that believes in my vision for this county and has the tools to help me execute it.”