Page 154 of Hard Rain

Oscar Charleston was the third one.

Someone had cut his throat from behind.

Whip recognized the type of cut from his years in the military. It was clean. Deliberate. One decisive pull across the throat.

A piece of paper had been pinned to Charleston’s shirt.

Your list.

Beneath the words were names and addresses.

It was Fierce’s work.

Axel stood and walked over. “Son of a bitch got the names.”

“Yeah.”

Knox and Grant stepped inside. Along with SWAT, they helped the family out of the room and down the stairs.

Sirens blared in the distance as one of the county’s only ambulances came barreling down the gravel road.

The atmosphere inside the room suddenly changed when Boone walked in.

“Yes, sir,” Boone said into the phone at his ear, then his gaze flicked to the bodies. “He eliminated our fugitive. Yes, sir. You’re on speaker.”

“Gentlemen,” Secretary of Defense William Caldwell said over the speaker, “the list that Fierce left is now your job. From this point on, we won’t interfere.”

“How are we going to justify this shit?” Axel growled, and Whip bit back a smile.

Trust it to his man to state the obvious.

“I’ve already talked it over with Sheriff Mercer,” Caldwell said smoothly, the power and command rolled through the phone.

“Boone? Take me off of speaker.”

Boone punched the button and stepped back outside of the room.

The EMTs entered the room with the crime scene processors.

It wasn’t long before one of the technicians pulled on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and carefully removed the note from Charleston’s shirt. He slipped it into a clear evidence bag, sealed it, then walked it over.

“Deputy Tauber?”

Whip accepted the bag by the edge.

“Chain of custody’s started,” the technician said. “Sheriff Mercer said this goes with you.”

Whip looked down at the names through the plastic.

“Thanks.”

Hard rain pounded across the windshield as Whip guided the SUV down the empty county road.

The evidence bag sat between them on the center console with names and addresses. That one sheet of paper had turned half of the West Coast upside down.

He and Axel were headed to a nearby address. Knox and Grant had peeled off forty minutes earlier to check the farthest address on the list while Boone coordinated with Davis. Washington and California had already been notified. Their people would be moving before sunrise.

Axel looked out the passenger window, the dark fields rolling past in flashes of headlights.