Chapter 142

Rose ran across the motel parking lot, her mind racing faster than her feet. The worn soles of her expensive shoes slapped against cracked asphalt as panic clawed at her chest. Herod was going to tell the FBI everything. Her plan, her revenge, her future, all of it would crumble if he talked.

She reached her car, not her car, really, but one of Herod’s cars. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the keys. The recorder. The damned recorder he’d shown her. How long had he been recording their conversations? What exactly had she said?

Rose stopped, the key halfway to the lock.

She couldn’t run. Not yet. Not while Herod sat in that motel room with a phone pressed to his ear, her name on his lips, and evidence of her crimes in his pocket.

In the distance, sirens wailed. Still far away, but coming closer.

Rose looked back at Room 17, its faded blue door visible from where she stood. Behind that door sat the man who could destroy everything she’d built. Everythi