From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(65)

“Yes, sir, I recall that she’s a member. So am I, and we’ve bumped into each other there before, so I’m certain I can get by without making her suspicious.”

“That’s appreciated. She’d flay me if she knew I’d spoken to you.”

“And then you’d flay me.”

Hank chuckled. “I don’t care what anyone else says about you, kid. You’re all right,” he said with twinkling eyes.

The corner of Jon’s mouth lifted. “Thanks, Mr. Campbell.”

“Call me Hank, and don’t make me regret any of this,” he said as he made his way down the stairs.

Jon followed. “Yes, sir.”

The two men parted ways at the sidewalk with the invitation for Jon to contact Hank if he needed anything.

And Jon finally had an in. He didn’t even know how it had happened, but there it was.

But the game had changed. The evidence board didn’t matter. Connecting Rhodes to the murders was moot. They had to find him, and the slate had all of a sudden been wiped clean.

Jon walked the few blocks to the subway station so fast, it was more of a slow jog, his thoughts whirling around his head the whole way. He pictured Josie finding the necklace, and his chest squeezed and tightened.

She’d found a way to pin Rhodes, and he’d escaped. Jon couldn’t even imagine what was going through her head, what she’d been through since he saw her last, and wished again he had been able to be there for her.

He had missed so much.

By the time he reached the Westside Range, he was wound up and nervous as all hell. And once he signed in and made his way into the range and through the threshold of stalls, his heart skipped a beat, starting again like a hammer as he walked toward her.

Josie stood in the aisle, her long legs in black running shorts, her copper hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes, behind safety glasses, were trained down the range, her body as tight as a bowstring. The overhead lights cast shadows on the gentle slopes of her biceps as she fired, not stopping between shots.

She didn’t register him when he stopped near her, not until she lowered her arms and dropped her magazine. The second she caught sight of him in her periphery, she turned to him with shock and anger and pain written in every line and angle of her face.

She flipped off her ear protectors. “What in the actual fuck are you doing here?”

He played it off like it was chance, him being there, smiling at her with his heart on fire. “This is the only firing range in Manhattan, and I’m a member, same as you. Is it really all that crazy that I’d see you here?”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. This has to be some sick joke.”

She reached into the box of ammo in front of her and slid the bullets into the empty magazine, one by one. Jon didn’t miss that her hands trembled as she popped them in.



“You okay, Josie?” Jon asked innocently like the fucking asshole he was.

Josie couldn’t even look at him, couldn’t believe that, of all days, of all times, he had walked in right then. She couldn’t go one day without him showing up, and that day, in that moment, there was no way she could deal with him. She couldn’t deal with anything.

“No, I am not fucking okay.” Her voice wavered as she slammed the magazine into her pistol and picked up an empty one to load it.

Josie could feel him even though he was several feet away, could feel his sadness and worry as he watched her in silence.

When she couldn’t stand the quiet anymore, she filled it with words. “Rhodes is gone. He’s fucking gone because I found his fingerprint, and Dad brought him in. Anne’s necklace has been in my apartment this whole time. The entire time. It was right there.” She slapped the magazine down on the counter, though her hand didn’t move from over it as she leaned on the surface and closed her eyes. “He’s gone, and now, I have to find him.”

“I’m sorry.” His words were heavy with concern.

“It’s not your fault.” She opened her eyes and picked up the last empty magazine, keeping her attention on her hands.

“I’m sorry all the same.”

“I can’t fucking handle you right now. Not today.” She finally looked at him, but her jaw was tight, and she hoped the warning was clear.

“Josie, I’ve been staring at a replica of your wall for days. I want to help. You know I do, and you know I can.”

She shook her head. Of all the people in all the world, he might be one of the last who she’d ask for help, who she would ever trust. She also knew he was the only person who could. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

“I care more than just about anybody, and I don’t doubt that you can figure this out because you’re the most capable woman I’ve ever known. I saw what you did with the evidence wall, and it’s one of the smartest, most terrifying things I’ve ever seen. I know you can do this on your own. But that doesn’t mean you should.”

Josie raised her gun and fired through another round. He waited as she dropped the magazine and slammed another home before unloading it again. Somewhere in the third magazine, he finally turned and walked away.

Her ears rang with each shot, her eyes burning as she emptied the chamber. And when he was finally gone, she dropped her arms, pressing her palms on the counter, head bowed where he could no longer see her cry.