“Then we move now.”
“Move where?”
“State field office. Not local. Mercer’s got too many friends sniffing around county channels.”
Rebecca stepped closer. “Can you protect the kids?”
Salazar looked at all of you, and her face did something tired people’s faces do when truth weighs more than reassurance.
“I can try,” she said. “But protection starts with not standing in an open lot.”
That was when the black SUV appeared at the entrance to the park.
Then another behind it.
Everything shattered into motion.
Salazar shoved you toward her sedan. “Down!”
A man stepped out of the lead SUV and called across the lot, “Nobody needs to make this difficult.”
No gun visible. That made it worse somehow. Guns are honest. Empty hands lie.
Salazar drew hers anyway.
“County detective!” she shouted. “Back away!”
The man smiled. “You think that badge scares anybody today?”
Rebecca had already thrown Lily into the back of the sedan and slammed the door. You reached for the handle on the other side, but a second man circled wide through the trees, trying to cut off escape. Mercer’s people had done the math. Teenager. Little girl. Widow. One detective. They thought fear would do most of the work.
They almost got their wish.
Then Lily opened the back door and stepped out.
Everything stopped.
Even the wind seemed to pause.
She stood there in her pink coat, rabbit tucked under one arm, tiny and furious and heartbreakingly brave. Before anyone could grab her, she pointed straight at the men by the SUVs and shouted in a voice that cracked the whole gray day open:
“You killed my daddy!”
The sound ripped through the park.
