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from the ladder and crept around the side of the RV. From here she could evaluate the situation before making any sudden moves. She could see the gun was pointed at her brother, and her heart raced. Ahead of him, and nearer the cliff’s edge, was Amy. She was sobbing but didn’t move.

What has he done to you? Evie hated seeing her own niece in danger.

Mason was forced to tie a rope around himself and was then nudged toward the cliff’s edge.

No. Evie dropped to a knee and took the knife from her shin strap. She held it how Mason had taught her back at Christmas after presenting her with the gift. Now, she might have to use it, whether she was prepared for that or not.

The killer shoved Mason over the edge of the cliff, and Amy crashed to the ground as the rope dragged her along by her leg. It happened so fast Evie could barely register what was going on. But her instincts kicked in, and there was no need—or time—for caution anymore. She ran forward—not for Wendell, but for the rope.

“Help!” Amy screamed, her voice shrill with panic.

Evie dashed forward, throwing herself to the ground and snagging hold of the rope. She buried her heels into the ground, and the soggy mud rose in a big divot under her feet, slowing them to a stop. “I’ve got you!”

Wendell stood watching, his expression one of amused surprise. “Not exactly what I hoped for, but I guess this makes things more interesting.” He stepped back, holding the gun by his crotch and looking on with excitement.

Evie had to seize control. Using the knife, she sawed feverishly at the rope. The threads came apart, liberating Amy, but Evie was stunned by the sudden increase in weight as she was dragged closer to the cliff face. “Run!” she screamed, demanding Amy get to safety.

Amy hesitated, moved a hand as if to help, then climbed to her feet and sprinted away from the cliff. Within seconds she’d disappeared into the darkness.

“Losing your grip?” Wendell asked, laughing. “I’d love to stay and watch the show, but I have a girl to catch. Adios.” He ran after Amy without looking back.

Evie was left alone in the dark, burying her heels as deep as she could into the mud and the rocky ground, but it was no use. She’d merely postponed the inevitable, because Mason was too heavy and she was being hauled closer to the edge. Closer to her brother’s death.

She was five yards away.

Three.

Two.

The rocks and mud gave out beneath her and went plummeting off the cliff, while the rope tore at her palms, burning her skin. Exhausted and agonized, Evie yelled at the top of her lungs as the rope finally slipped through her grasp.

Chapter Eighty-Four

A second wind lent Evie a burst of strength, but it wasn’t enough.

The rope slipped and burned, and although she managed to plant her feet in hard enough to pull back by a couple of yards, her strength soon waned to nothing.

“Mason,” she called. “I can’t hold you!” It was near impossible to hear anything through the wind and rain, but she just made out Mason’s voice.

“Evie? Where’s Amy?”

Evie gritted her teeth and hoisted back. She didn’t know how long she could hold on, but it wasn’t long. “She escaped… he went after her.”

He didn’t respond, and Evie grunted as she was dragged closer to the cliff’s edge.

“Go,” Mason finally yelled, resigned.

Is he crazy? Evie pictured him hanging down there, not as the man he was now, but as the boy she’d played games with on the rug as a kid. The boy who’d taught her to tell time and tie her shoelaces. The brother who’d saved her in every way possible after their parents had died. “I’m not letting you go.”

“You have to!”

“No.”

“I’m loosening the rope now, Evie. You tried, but it’s okay.”

Her palms were ablaze as she tried to manage Mason’s weight, but it was too much. She suddenly hurtled forward, her chin hitting the dirt as she lost her grip on the rope, and her stomach tore up as she was dragged across the rocks. “Don’t you dare fucking untie it,” she blurted through a face full of dirt and gravel.

But Mason didn’t have to, because the final length of the rope slid from her hand and she stared on in helpless horror as the end flailed around like spaghetti being sucked up, growing shorter and shorter as it raced toward the cliff.

It all happened so fast that she barely heard the rushing patter of footsteps behind her.

Accepting their fate, she closed her eyes and waited for her heart to break.

Chapter Eighty-Five

Mason pulled out a thread of rope, loosening the knot. One more, and he would fall to his death. How else was he supposed to convince Evie to go after Amy?

After everything they’d been through, he cared for only two things: his family’s safety, and bringing the Lullaby Killer to justice. If sacrificing himself was the only way to do that, what choice did he have? Besides, it was numbingly cold up here and he was beyond exhausted. Letting go seemed a hell of a lot easier.

He felt a sudden jolt in the rope as the resistance weakened, and he dropped. He fell fast toward the rocks, thoughts of Amy flashing in his mind, and knew Evie must have finally let go. But then there was a brutal jerk, crashing him into the jagged cliff face and tearing his arm to shreds.

“Don’t let go!” boomed a familiar voice from above. A man’s voice.

“Bill?” Mason strained to look up.

“Whatever you do, just don’t let go. We’re going to pull you up, buddy.”

We? As Mason was hoisted up the cliff, he wondered who the hell would be there to thank. He prayed it wasn’t Evie, and that she’d gone after Wendell.

When he got to the top, rocks grazing his arms and legs while the cold wind blasted at his back, Bill and Evie pulled him to his feet. Evie was caked in mud, holding her arms in pain. It must have taken everything she had to hold him for that long. But his gratitude could wait.

“Where did Amy go?” Mason demanded, clambering to his feet and moving away from the cliff.

“The trees,” Evie said, pointing a finger. “Let’s go.”

“No.” Mason stopped her. “You stay here. Bill, give me your gun.”

“We’ll both be in a lot of trouble if you—”

“Give me the damn gun!”

Bill drew it from his hip and handed it over, not saying another word.

“You got a car?” Mason stared into the dark woods.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Take Evie. I need to finish this.” He turned, and without another word, he started off along the sodden ground, his jog speeding into a run. Putting the last of his depleted energy into chasing the infamous Lullaby Killer for the final time, Mason sprinted off into the trees.

Chapter Eighty-Six

Mason had never run so fast in his life. As branches and thick bushes tried to slow him down, clawing at his shredded arm, he pummeled through them with immeasurable force.

Wendell was ahead of him, just close enough to see in the darkness of the murky woods. He, too, was moving at great speed. Only he wasn’t running away from Mason. He was plowing after Amy in what was a terrifying pursuit.

Mason slowed down, fatigue weighing down his feet. “Stop right there!” he yelled, clutching the gun tight. He stepped over a fallen branch and aimed the gun. It was now or never—a wild shot, or lose the killer and Amy.

Holding his breath, then letting it out, he coiled his finger around the trigger and squeezed. The

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