This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Otherwise, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2025 by Chad Zunker

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Amazon Original Stories, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Amazon Original Stories are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781662532160 (digital)

Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson

Cover image: © Nikada / Getty

One

Ithink I just saw someone sneak into Mindy’s house.”

Kara Reed stared out the front window of the four-bedroom craftsman home she and her husband, Jackson, had purchased four months ago. The house sat on a picturesque street with mature trees in a tony neighborhood called Rollingwood, just a few short miles from downtown Austin, where Jackson worked in finance. When they’d moved to Texas from Atlanta earlier that year, they were told by their Realtor that their new community was one of the most sought after in the city, not only because of its prime location but also the excellent school district. That had become very important to Kara, since their four-year-old daughter, Jillian, and three-year-old son, Carter, would be starting school soon.

“What do you mean, sneak?” Jackson asked from the living room sofa, where he was watching Monday Night Football.

“I mean I saw a figure approach in the shadows from up the sidewalk, enter the driveway, and then go around the side of the house to the back.”

“Why is that suspicious to you?”

Kara turned to him. “I told you. Mindy confided in me the other day she thought Bill might be having an affair.”

Mindy and Bill McGregor were the neighbors directly across the street. They had a ten-year-old son and an eight-year-old daughter. The daughter, Lily, had been regularly playing with Kara’s daughter. Since moving to town, Kara had found it difficult to make new friends. So many families in their neighborhood were longtime residents and already seemed set with their friend groups. But like Kara, Mindy was also a recent transplant. The McGregors had moved from Washington, DC, a year ago. So Mindy had been friendly to Kara from the get-go. She said she knew what it felt like to be brand new in the community.

“Oh yeah,” Jackson said. “I forgot.”

“I’ve been kind of monitoring their house since she told me that. Especially when I know Mindy is away and Bill is home alone.”

“You shouldn’t get involved with that, Kara. It’s none of our business.”

“Mindy is my friend. Probably my only real friend here so far.”

Her husband got up from the sofa, walked over to the window to stand beside her, and stared out the front.

“So where is Mindy tonight?”

“A kid party nearby.”

“And you think Bill would be audacious enough to have his side piece over with his wife still in the neighborhood?”

She frowned at Jackson. “How much time have you spent with Bill?”

“Not much. A few conversations here and there when we just happen to be pulling in the trash bins at the same time. Seems like a decent guy. Why?”

“Because he’s extremely arrogant. I guess he’s a big-shot attorney. Mindy says he’s been disengaged from her and the family for a while now. She’d hoped starting over in a new city would somehow bring them back together. But she feels like it has had the opposite effect. You know the kids aren’t his, right?”

Jackson shook his head. “I didn’t know that.”

“They’re both from Mindy’s first marriage. Her husband died when the kids were toddlers. She married Bill quickly. Mindy said he was her knight in shining armor at first, rescuing her from financial despair. She didn’t know what she was going to do on her own, since she’d never held a real job.”

“She fits right in here in wealthy soccer mom land.”

“True,” Kara admitted. “She’s always wearing those extra-tight yoga pants and skimpy tops. She’s quite the stunner, as I’m sure you’re aware.” She gave him a side-eyed glance.

Jackson shrugged, grinned. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“Whatever.” She smiled, rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I guess things soured for them after a couple of years. Bill began showing little interest in the stepdad role and started working late every night and on weekends. At least that’s what he’s been telling Mindy.”

“Why does she think he’s having an affair?”

“She started checking his credit card statements. This is not something she’s ever done. Bill handles all their bills and financials. She said she recently found several charges for hotel rooms at the Four Seasons downtown.”

“Ouch. He’s probably not going over there to take a nap.”

“Exactly. She feels devastated and scared.”

“Why scared?”

“She’s afraid he’ll divorce her and leave her with nothing. Like I said, he’s a cutthroat lawyer. She’d have no chance in a legal battle.”

“Did they sign a prenup?”

“No. But Mindy believes she’s probably unwittingly signed papers that would bankrupt her and make it hard for her to care for her kids. And the only way she can avoid that is if she somehow catches him in the extramarital act. Just so she has some real ammunition to show a judge, if it ever comes to that.”

“So, what, you told her you’d be a spy for her?”

“Yes.”

Jackson sighed, shook his head. “You shouldn’t get involved. These kinds of things can get messy quick.”

“I just want us to be good neighbors.”

Jackson walked back to the sofa, kicked his feet up onto the coffee table again, and returned his attention to the football game. Cowboys versus Packers. Kara continued to stare out the window. Bill’s black Porsche was parked in the driveway in front of the garage. Mindy had taken the kids in her Mercedes SUV. Kara had waved at them an hour ago while out on the front porch watching Jillian and Carter play in the front yard. Her kids were now asleep upstairs.

She squinted and tried to see if she could make out any movement in the front windows of Mindy’s modern two-story home. She’d seen Bill pass by a couple of times but noticed no one else. Maybe her mind had been playing tricks on her. Perhaps she really didn’t see someone slip around the side of the house. Jackson was right. She should probably leave it alone. She was about to heed his advice when she saw two figures move past a window. One of them was Bill. But she was unable to tell if the other figure was a woman or a man.

Her heart began to race. What should she do? Should she call Mindy and tell her someone else was inside her home with her husband? She quickly shook off that thought. She needed to confirm it was a woman first. No reason to unnecessarily alarm her friend. To do that, she needed to get a better look.

“I’m going over there,” she announced.

Jackson perked up on the sofa. “What?”

“I have to see for myself. If the shoe was on the other foot, I’d want Mindy to do the same thing for me.”

“The shoe will never be on the other foot.”

“I know. I’m just saying.”

“Come on, Kara. You can’t go over there. What are you going to do? Peek through a window?”

“Maybe.”

“That’s crazy, babe. What if you get caught? Besides, you’re in pajama pants.”

It was true; Kara was set for the night in a long-sleeved gray cotton shirt and black-and-red flannel pajama pants. “I’m only going to take a quick look. Three minutes, tops. I promise. I’ll be right back.”

Jackson huffed. “All right, but when a neighbor calls the cops on you, I’m not bailing you out of jail.”

Two

After slipping on a pair of running shoes, Kara stepped outside through the front door, moved down the porch steps, and casually walked toward the street along their front path. The neighborhood was quiet. It was after eight, so most families had closed shop for the day. She spotted a teenager out walking a dog a few houses up the way. A car pulled into a driveway at the opposite end of the street. Her eyes took quick inventory of the homes directly around them. No neighbors sitting on porches. No one out watering flower beds. Kara paused at the street, looked both ways, making sure nobody was paying any mind to her, and then quickly crossed and hopped up onto the opposite sidewalk.

Her heart was beating faster now. She had no idea what she was about to encounter. She was not eager to catch Bill McGregor in the act of an affair. She still hoped it wasn’t true. But she also felt indignant and wanted to support her friend, who was clearly carrying around tremendous anxiety. Best case was that this was nothing, and the person who was over at Mindy’s was simply a buddy watching the football game. But why would a buddy not park directly in front? This curious thought was the main reason she found herself on the sidewalk in front of Mindy’s home.

Kara did a quick study of the scene to devise her strategy. She’d been over to Mindy’s house numerous times. They often shared an afternoon glass of wine on the back patio while the kids played or swam. The McGregors had a beautiful backyard with a pool and lush landscaping, like most of the houses in the neighborhood. The driveway was on the right side of the house, so Kara chose the left. She remembered there were a couple of windows along the side of the house—one looking into the living room and one into the large kitchen. She gave a last quick glance around her and then stepped cautiously into the yard. She was careful to remain outside the glow of the landscape and security lights. The home had a thick row of hedges that created privacy from the Wilson family next door. Kara stayed close to the bushes and made her way to the corner of the house.

From there, she found the window to the living room and scooted up next to it. She swallowed the lump in her throat, took a couple of deep breaths. Then she peeked around the corner of the window. The living room looked like a magazine cover with its plush sofas, leather chairs, and stylish decor. Nobody was currently in the room. Kara tried to listen and thought she could hear talking deeper inside the home. She quickly slipped past the living room window and made her way over to the next, which was smaller and higher. She knew this was the window above the sink in the kitchen. Again, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She thought about what her husband had said earlier. He was probably right. This was crazy. What was she doing? Sneaking onto a neighbor’s property and invading his privacy? Was she this desperate for a friend?

Kara was about to talk herself into going home when she suddenly heard shouting begin inside the kitchen. She lifted her head just barely above the windowsill. Her eyes went to Mindy’s husband first. He was standing on one side of a massive island, still wearing what looked like his business attire from the day. White button-down, gray slacks, black belt. And it was not a woman who was inside the house with him. It was a man. Because the man’s back was to the window, Kara couldn’t get a look at his face. From behind, she could see he had short brown hair and wore a denim jacket, blue jeans, and brown cowboy boots. Kara felt relief pour through her. She was so glad to find Bill was not with another woman. For now, she could rest easy.

But she found herself not moving. The arguing between the two men grew more intense and the foul language even harsher. What were they fighting about? Before she had a chance to find out, the man in the brown cowboy boots suddenly pulled out a gun from beneath his jacket and aimed it directly at Bill. In response, Bill charged toward him. Kara trembled as the gun was fired. The loud bang rang in her ears and shook her to the core. Kara watched as Bill immediately fell backward. The man in the cowboy boots stepped forward, stood over Mindy’s husband, and fired the weapon again. Another violent bang! Kara involuntarily jerked and gasped out loud. When she did, her hand tapped against the window.

She gasped again, immediately ducked down low. Had the man in the cowboy boots heard her? Did he now know she was standing just outside the window? She took another quick look through the window. The man in the boots was no longer in the kitchen. Kara heard something at the front of the house—it sounded like the front door opening and shutting. She felt another jolt of fear push through her. Would the man with the gun be coming around the corner of the house at any moment?

Kara scrambled for the phone in her pocket, wanting to call her husband and tell him what had just happened. But she had no time. Because she couldn’t escape back out toward the street, she darted toward the backyard, yanked open the gate, and rushed inside. Racing forward, she took in the pool, the back patio, the cabana, and the playground. She knew she couldn’t hide in the backyard. That would be way too risky. She had to get farther away. She sprinted toward the playground in the corner. Her heart was pumping so fast she thought her chest might explode. She spotted two Adirondack chairs parked in front of the swing set, where she and Mindy would sit and watch the kids.

Her body tightened when she heard the same gate she’d just passed through creak open behind her. The man was in the backyard. Would he immediately start shooting? Not wanting to find out, Kara grabbed one of the Adirondack chairs and moved it over to the fence that divided Mindy’s yard from the neighbor’s backyard. She stepped on the chair to reach the top of the fence and hoisted herself up. She got one leg up and over, then the other, dropped, and rolled onto the grass in the neighbor’s backyard. She had not met the people who lived behind the McGregors. She hoped they didn’t have an attack dog. She swiftly scrambled to her feet and ran around another large pool. She needed to call the police. When she reached down into the pocket of her loose-fitting pajama pants, her cell phone was gone. She cursed. It must’ve fallen out of her pocket while she was running away.

She heard a thud against the same fence she’d just climbed. The man was still in pursuit. She had to keep running. Finding the backyard gate leading to the front of the neighbor’s house, Kara swung it open. And then she sprinted away as fast as possible.

Three

Jackson jolted forward on the sofa when he heard the noise. Was that a gunshot? He used to do target practice as a kid with his grandfather’s revolver back on the family farm in Virginia. He and his brother would spend hours setting up different soda cans around the pond and see who the best was at hitting them. The sound was just like it. Seconds later, Jackson heard the same loud noise. That caused him to bolt to his feet. Those were definitely gunshots. And they sounded like they’d come from directly across the street. His mind immediately flashed to Kara, and he felt his heart flutter. Did Kara doing something silly just turn tragic? Could a neighbor have fired a weapon, thinking she was an intruder?

Fear flooded his body. He scrambled to the door, didn’t even take time to put on shoes, and hurled himself into their front yard wearing only a T-shirt and gym shorts. He tripped over his son’s toy dump truck, toppled face-first to the ground, and slid on his stomach. Spitting grass out of his mouth, he quickly pushed himself back up, rubbed a suddenly aching shoulder, and continued forward. Jackson’s bare feet slapped down hard against the street as he rushed across to the other side. He paused. To his left, he spotted Mark Wilson standing just inside the open front door of his house and staring out. His neighbor had also likely heard the gunshots. Probably everyone around them did. Jackson stared into the McGregors’ front windows. He didn’t spot anyone inside. He couldn’t tell anything from the sidewalk.

“Kara!” he called out.

This was no time to play it safe. He didn’t care if they got exposed as snooping neighbors. He cared only that his wife was safe. She didn’t answer.

He yelled her name even louder. “Kara! Where are you?”

Again, no response. Where the hell was she? What was going on? He reached down to his pocket but realized he hadn’t grabbed his phone before exiting the house. Feeling panicked, he ran up to the McGregors’ front door, pounded, and rang the doorbell several times. No answer. He put his hand on the door handle and found it surprisingly unlocked. After opening the door, he cautiously moved inside and hesitantly followed a hallway to his left that led into the kitchen.

When he turned the corner, Jackson stiffened and cursed. Bill was lying on the floor and not moving. Had someone shot him? Jackson stepped closer. The front of Bill’s white shirt was soaked in red. There was a growing puddle of what was clearly blood on the hardwood floor all around him. Jackson suddenly felt exposed. Was the person who shot Bill still inside the house? Was he in danger? He quickly searched the kitchen countertops until he found a block of cutting knives. He pulled out the biggest, just in case he needed it. Not that it would do much good against a gun.

“Kara!” Jackson yelled out again.

No answer. He felt a sudden wave of guilt wash over him. He should never have allowed her to come over here. Not that he could ever sway his wife when she set her mind on something. But still—he should have at least come along with her. This was no time to beat himself up. He just had to find her. Jackson took a quick peek in both the upstairs and downstairs rooms, finding them all clear, and then raced back out to the front of the house. Several neighbors were now standing on the front sidewalk, staring at the house, including Mark Wilson.

“Mark, call the police ASAP!” he said to his neighbor.

“What happened, Jackson?” Mark asked.

“Bill’s been shot!”

This caused the group to collectively gasp.

“I thought it was gunshots!” Mark exclaimed, punching in 9-1-1.

“Have any of you seen Kara?” Jackson frantically asked.

They all shook their heads.

“Was she outside when it happened?” asked Tiffany, Mark’s wife.

“Yes,” Jackson confirmed. “And I can’t find her. Someone please call her. I left my phone inside my house.”

Tiffany lifted her phone, pressed on the screen, and put it on speaker. They all listened as it rang four times before ending with Kara’s familiar voicemail greeting. Jackson spun around, decided to head back toward the McGregors’ home. This time, he circled to the left side of the house, hoping to find his wife hiding in the bushes or somewhere nearby. Had she been staring through one of the windows? He moved past the living room window and over to the kitchen window. If his wife was in this position, she would’ve had a direct view into the kitchen. Had she seen the shooting? If so, why hadn’t she come straight home? Pivoting in the grass, Jackson felt his bare foot kick something solid. He reached down, found a cell phone. Holding it up in the kitchen window’s light, he recognized it as Kara’s phone. His heart sank.

Four

Kara sprinted until her legs almost gave out. She had no idea how far she’d traveled. Six blocks? Seven? All she knew was that her legs were on fire. While she was in good shape because of often running the downtown trails around Lady Bird Lake, this was a different kind of movement altogether. When she thought her lungs might explode, she hid behind a restroom facility in Rollingwood Park. She tried to slow down her breathing, but it was difficult. She hadn’t looked back since she’d spotted her pursuer climbing over the fence directly behind Mindy’s house, so she had no idea if he’d continued to chase after her all this way. Kara had cut through yards and driveways, and she’d zigzagged neighborhood streets. She didn’t want to stop until she felt like she might be safe.

Peeking around the corner of the building, she stared into the darkness of the streets around the park. She didn’t see anyone out and about. There was no sign of the guy who had shot Bill McGregor twice. She slid to the pavement, sat on her butt, and continued to try to calm herself down. Her mind was spinning sideways. What had started as a simple mission to safeguard her friend Mindy had turned into something horrific. Who was the man who had shot Bill? And why did he do it? She had to believe the man was not a stranger to Bill. This wasn’t an invasion by a thief that got interrupted by the homeowner. Bill had to have known the guy. Was he a coworker at Bill’s law firm? Mindy had mentioned her husband was having some turmoil with another partner. That’s why she’d initially believed him when he was always working late and on weekends. But the man wasn’t dressed like a lawyer. Denim jacket, jeans, and cowboy boots. Of course, this was well after normal working hours, even for attorneys. Could he have been the husband of the woman with whom Bill was having the affair? Did he come over to confront Bill?

Kara had to believe Bill was dead. The man had shot him a second time while standing directly over him. Who could survive that? She thought about Mindy and felt grief overwhelm her. It was a strange sensation to know her friend’s husband was dead before Mindy even knew about it. The woman was at a kid party only a few blocks away with no idea that her world was about to be completely rocked.

Kara couldn’t worry about Mindy right now. She had to call the police. With her breath more under control, she pushed herself to her feet. A row of houses sat directly across the street from the park. She just had to start knocking on doors until someone let her use their phone. She hurried across the street, away from the park, and chose a ranch-style home. There were lights on in every window. Hustling up to the door, she firmly knocked and rang the doorbell twice. A dog started barking inside. A moment later, a gray-haired woman wearing a cardigan and khaki pants answered the door. A white poodle was at her feet, yapping away.

“I’m so sorry to bother you so late, but I really need to borrow your phone. My name is Kara Reed, and I moved onto Farley Trail four months ago. I just saw something horrible, and I need to call the police.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh my goodness. What happened?”

“I saw a shooting by my house. Can I please use your phone?”

“Of course, please come in.” The woman scooped up the barking poodle while she quickly moved down the hallway. “I’ll be right back with it.”

Kara waited in the entryway. Looking down, she noticed her shirt was dirty and her pajama pants were torn at one knee. She also started to feel some pain in her right elbow and examined it. The long-sleeved shirt was scuffed up on the elbow and she could see blood starting to leak out. She must have landed on it badly.

The woman returned with her phone and handed it to Kara, who quickly dialed 9-1-1. When a dispatcher answered, Kara told the woman what she’d just witnessed. She was informed that another call had just come in about the same event at the same address. Police were already on the way. Kara could now hear sirens in the distance. Because of the dangerous situation, the dispatcher asked her to remain on the phone until a police vehicle arrived to get her. It should only take a couple of minutes.

Kara waited just outside the front door of the house, the phone pressed to her ear, while the dispatcher continued to ask about her physical well-being. Kara thought she was fine. Only a little banged up. Nothing too bad. The gray-haired woman brought her a glass of water, which she downed in nearly one gulp. She was parched. While waiting, she thought about Jackson. Had he heard the gunshots? Was he freaking out right now? She needed to call him and tell him she was okay. A police vehicle arrived in front of the house with its red and blue lights flashing. A uniformed female officer got out. Kara gave the phone back to the gray-haired woman, thanked her profusely, and met the officer on the sidewalk.

“Kara Reed?” the officer asked.

“Yes,” Kara confirmed.

“I’m Officer Ramirez. Are you okay?”

“I think so. Are the police already at Bill McGregor’s house?”

“Yes, we just arrived. They discovered the body.”

“Is Bill dead?”

“I don’t think they’ve confirmed his identity.”

“It’s Bill McGregor. What about the shooter? Has he been found?”

“Not yet. We need to get you over to the crime scene, so you can walk us through exactly what you saw. Let’s go.”

“I need to call my husband.”

“I believe he’s there waiting.”

Five

Jackson ran from house to house, up and down his street, searching yards and behind parked cars, desperately trying to find Kara. He was having no luck. And that was sending his mind into full-on panic. He’d heard two gunshots earlier. Had one of them been directed at his wife? Could she possibly have been shot? He tried not to think this way, but it was difficult. His heart was racing so fast. Where was she? None of the neighbors who began coming out of nearby houses to check on the chaos had heard from her or seen her. Had the person who shot and killed Bill McGregor abducted her? Could she be locked in the back of a car with a killer and already gone from their neighborhood?

Police cars swarmed the scene. Jackson rushed back in hopes the police might know something more or could offer help. The police vehicles all had their red and blue lights flashing. And he could hear more sirens blaring as additional vehicles approached. It felt surreal this was all happening in front of his house. The crowd on the sidewalk had grown as more wide-eyed neighbors came over to gawk and find out what was happening. Some had even driven from a few streets over. One vehicle nearly hit him before screeching to a stop a few feet away. A black Cadillac Escalade he knew belonged to Sheila Parsons. He remembered her husband, Craig, because he got so drunk at a block party that he wanted to fight a couple of other dads. Sheila immediately pulled over, got out, and began apologizing. She then joined the crowd, who were all shaking their heads and speculating.

Mark Wilson came over to him. “Any sign of Kara?”

“Nothing,” Jackson told him.

“I’m sure she’s okay, Jackson.”

There was no way Mark could be sure of anything. But Jackson understood it was just something people said when they didn’t know what else to say.

“I told the police you were the one who found the body,” Mark said. “They want to speak with you ASAP. I think the officer in charge is the big guy in the driveway.”

Jackson nodded, hurried over to a uniformed officer who looked like he might have played linebacker two decades ago. He still carried the muscular build but now also owned a gut that bulged out over his belt. More police vehicles arrived. The scene was covered with a horde of cops. Jackson welcomed it.

“I’m Jackson Reed,” he said to the officer.

“Officer Moody,” he replied. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Jackson told him everything, starting from the beginning. His wife thinking she spotted someone in the shadows entering the house. Kara suspecting an affair and going over to look. The two gunshots. Jackson going inside the house and finding Bill’s body lying in a puddle of blood. His wife missing.

“I found my wife’s phone in the grass at the side of the house,” Jackson explained. “She might have seen what happened. I have no idea where she went. None of my neighbors seem to know anything either.”

“What does your wife look like?” Moody asked.

“Five six. Very fit. Shoulder-length blond hair, which she had up in a ponytail. She was wearing a long-sleeved gray T-shirt and red-and-black flannel pajama pants.”

Jackson showed him a photo on his phone.

“I’ll get this out to everyone,” Moody said. “We’ll do everything we can to find her, I promise. Stay close. I’m sure we’ll have more questions.”

The hulking officer returned to the other officers and left him standing there. An ambulance and two fire trucks arrived at the scene. The whole block was now lit up in red and blue flashing lights. It was like Fourth of July fireworks. Jackson wasn’t sure what to do next. Was he just supposed to wait around? He thought about his kids. Had they been woken up by the sirens? Most likely. He hurried back to his house, opened the front door, and found Jillian and Carter both staring out the front window.

Jillian ran up to him. “Daddy, what happened?”

He scooped her up. “Something bad happened at a neighbor’s house. But it’s nothing for you to worry about. You guys need to go back upstairs and get in bed.”

“Where’s Mommy?” Carter asked.

His little boy still looked half asleep. He didn’t seem to be as alarmed as his sister.

“She’s outside with the neighbors,” Jackson lied. “We’ll both be back inside in a moment. Can you please go upstairs to your rooms?”

“But I’m scared,” Jillian said.

“You don’t need to be scared. Everything is going to be okay.”

“I can stay with Sissy,” Carter offered.

He was always the chivalrous little brother.

“Okay, great. You guys just wait upstairs until I come back.”

His two kids held hands as they went back upstairs. Jackson slipped on a pair of flip-flops, just so he was no longer barefoot, returned to the pack on the sidewalk, and found his next-door neighbor, Brenda Hawkins. He asked if she wouldn’t mind waiting inside his house to keep an eye on his children. She eagerly agreed and moved up the front path toward his house. Oliver Bigsby, who lived five houses down, came over to him. Jackson had played golf with the guy a couple of times. He was in his early forties, with short brown hair slightly graying on the sides.

“How’re you holding up, man?” Oliver said.

“I’m freaking the hell out,” Jackson admitted.

“Yeah, I bet. Still no word from Kara?”

“Nothing. Which makes me think the worst, you know?”

“Yeah. Have you tried tracking her phone?”

“I found her phone in the grass at the side of Bill’s house.”

“Dang. Well, I hope Kara saw what happened so they can catch the killer. Did you check to see if she took any photos or videos?”

Jackson hadn’t thought of that. He pulled Kara’s phone out of his pocket, typed in the security code they shared, and pressed on the photo icon. The latest image on her phone was one of Jillian playing in the yard earlier.

“Nothing,” Jackson said. “I feel helpless.”

A few seconds later, Officer Moody hurried over to him from across the street.

“We have your wife,” he announced. “One of our officers picked her up about six blocks from here and is bringing her back now.”

“Is she okay?” Jackson asked.

“Physically, yes. But she’s a bit rattled.”

He exhaled deeply, feeling relief pour through him. “Did she see the shooting?” he asked Moody.

“She did,” Moody confirmed. “I’ll get the details of that shortly.”

The crowd of neighbors had moved in close to listen to his conversation with Officer Moody. Upon hearing the news that Kara was indeed safe, they all began to embrace him with the same relief he was feeling now.

Kara was okay. Thank God.

Six

Sitting in the back of the police car, Kara felt herself starting to breathe easier by the second. She was safe now with the police. And soon she’d be back with Jackson and her kids. That was all she’d been thinking about as she’d madly scrambled to get away from the shooter. She just wanted to be held by her husband with her kids in her arms. For a frightening moment, she’d thought that might not happen again. It had been stupid of her to snoop at Mindy’s house. And it had almost cost her everything.

Officer Ramirez turned the vehicle down the neighborhood street where Kara knew Mindy was attending the children’s party with her kids. She saw a dozen cars parked along the curb outside a white stucco house with colorful yard signs that spelled out Happy Birthday, Dillon. For a moment, she was tempted to ask Ramirez to stop. She hated the idea of a stranger telling her friend this devastating news. Maybe she should be the one to do it. So she could emotionally catch Mindy when she fell apart. But she knew she couldn’t do that. The situation was complicated. She had no clue what was happening back at Mindy’s house right now.

Ramirez drove for a couple more blocks, paused at a stop sign, and then eased the car forward. The officer was on the radio talking with another member of the force. Kara heard only bits and pieces, but she did catch that they had not yet apprehended the shooter. He was still out there somewhere. If they didn’t get him right away, what would that mean for Kara and her family? She hadn’t seen the face of the man, but had he seen her face? Would he be able to identify her? And would he possibly keep coming after her? That thought made her stomach tighten and caused her breathing to immediately labor again.

Kara never saw the speeding vehicle approaching. The sudden crash was violent and explosive, and it slammed Kara up against the car door, causing her head to bang against glass. Metal crunched, more glass shattered, and a split second later, the police vehicle was up on its side and flipping fully over. While Kara was held in place by her locked seat belt, her arms and legs were tossed wildly about. The police car settled upside down, the roof caved in slightly below her. She could hear the hissing of busted valves and pipes and smell a mix of gas, oil, and burned rubber. It took her a moment to get her bearings. She felt foggy. Had they crashed into someone? Or had someone just crashed into them? She couldn’t tell from her current upside-down perch. She heard Officer Ramirez groaning in agony in the front of the car.

“Are you okay?” Kara called out.

Ramirez didn’t respond. Kara reached around and managed to get her seat belt unclicked. She stuck one arm out to protect her during the short fall into the roof of the car. She felt liquid roll into her right eye and reached up with a hand. Pulling it back, she saw that it was blood coming from her head. With the sleeve of her shirt, she wiped it away and scooted forward to try to check on the officer. When she did, she peered out the shattered windshield. She could see a black SUV with a crumpled-up front end about thirty feet away. A black Cadillac Escalade. Was that what had hit them? Was the driver of the SUV also badly hurt? When Kara finally reached Ramirez, she found the airbag had thankfully been deployed. But the officer’s head and body still hung limply against her seat belt in the front seat.

“Officer Ramirez?” Kara said, pressing her hand against the woman’s shoulder.

Ramirez was no longer making any noise. Kara again pushed against Ramirez’s body, trying to wake her up. It wasn’t working. She needed to get help. Kara looked back out the front windshield. And then she froze. Someone was standing directly in front of the vehicle. She could see only the bottom of the person’s legs. But what she saw paralyzed her. She was certain she was looking at the exact same brown cowboy boots she’d seen on the man in Mindy’s kitchen.

Kara again felt her heart racing. Had he been driving the vehicle that collided with them? Was the collision intentional? This couldn’t be happening. She had to get out of the police car and somehow get away. And she had only a moment. She quickly returned to the back seat and noted that the window beside where she’d been sitting was gone. Only a few shards of glass remained. She could easily fit through it. She took a quick look back. The cowboy boots were now moving closer to the police car. He was coming. She couldn’t hesitate.

Kara wiggled her way out of the vehicle, opposite the man, and onto the pavement. She could feel shattered glass pressing into her hands as she pushed herself up. She needed to stay crouched low to be blocked from the killer by the wrecked police car. She took a deep breath and then took off running down the sidewalk, her head ducked low, praying she would not hear another gunshot. She didn’t slow down for several blocks, not until she realized she was right in front of the white stucco house where Mindy and her kids were attending the children’s party.

Seven

Kara banged on the door to the stucco house. She continued peering over her shoulder, hoping she’d gotten away from the killer. She kept using her shirtsleeve to wipe blood from her face. She had no idea what she looked like right now. The entire sleeve was saturated in red. But it wasn’t too painful. She didn’t know if that meant the gash in her head was not too bad, or her body was in shock, and she couldn’t feel the pain. Either way, it wasn’t something she could be overly concerned about at the moment. A woman she didn’t know but had seen around the neighborhood answered the door. The woman’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes went wide at the sight of Kara.

“Oh my . . . are you okay?” the woman stammered.

“Yes. I need a phone to call the police. It’s urgent. Can I come inside?”

“Yes, of course.”

The woman allowed Kara inside the home and shut the door behind her.

“Your head is bleeding. It’s all in your hair.”

“I’m okay, ” Kara insisted. “Can I use your phone? And I need to speak to Mindy McGregor. Can you please go get her?”

The woman pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket, handed it to her, and then rushed off down a hallway. The party noise was coming from somewhere in the back of the big house. Kara decided to stay put in the entryway. She didn’t want to freak out the kids and the other moms. She quickly dialed 9-1-1 again. The same dispatcher she’d spoken with earlier answered.

“This is Kara Reed. I just spoke with you. I was in the police car with Officer Ramirez when another vehicle collided with us. Officer Ramirez is hurt. And I believe the man who hit us is the same man who shot Bill McGregor.”

“Where are you?”

Kara gave her the address and told her where the accident happened. “You need to get an ambulance over there right away.”

“Are you safe?”

“I think so. For the moment.”

“Good. I need you to stay put until we get there.”

Kara hung up. She was about to call Jackson when Mindy appeared from the back of the house. She hurried up to Kara with wide eyes and immediately gave her the same look as the other woman.

“Kara, what happened to you?”

“Don’t worry about me. But I have to tell you something.”

She spoke in hushed tones, not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation.

“What is it? You’re scaring me.”

Kara swallowed. She never imagined having to share something like this with a friend. “I don’t know how to tell you this without just coming right out with it. Bill is dead, Mindy. Someone shot him inside your house tonight.”

“What?” Mindy brought a hand up to her mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Kara said. “The police are there now.”

“I . . . I don’t understand. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Why are you covered in blood?”

“That’s a longer story. I witnessed the shooting.”

Mindy gasped. “What? How?”

“I saw someone sneak into your house earlier. After what you told me about the potential affair, I wanted to get a look for myself. I was just trying to help you.”

“Did you see who shot Bill?”

“Yes. But only from the back. Police are looking for him.”

Kara didn’t want to get into what all ensued after the shooting and what had just happened with the car wreck down the street. She could tell her friend was already reeling. She would explain everything after they were both safe, with police protection.

“I have to get home to Bill,” Mindy urgently said.

“We need to stay here until the police arrive,” Kara insisted.

“No, I’m leaving. I have to see him.”

Mindy bolted right past her toward the front door.

“Mindy, please stop.”

But her friend ignored her, opened the door, and rushed outside.

“Then I’m going with you,” Kara said, hurrying after her.

Back outside, Kara took a moment to carefully look around, and then she followed Mindy over to her white Mercedes SUV, which was parked along the curb. Kara offered to drive, but Mindy insisted on doing it herself. They both got inside, and Mindy started the car.

Her friend paused. “I need to text the host inside to ask her to watch my kids until I get back. I don’t want anyone else but me telling them about their father.”

Mindy quickly typed out a text on her phone, sent it, and then shifted the SUV into drive. They pulled away from the sidewalk and headed up the street toward the crash scene. Kara could now see the Cadillac Escalade was completely smashed up in the front and smoke was seeping out from everywhere. She spotted a Westlake High School football sticker on the back window with the jersey number 12. Kara’s brow bunched. Sheila Parsons’s vehicle? Her son was number 12. Could the killer in the cowboy boots be Sheila’s husband? The man she saw in Mindy’s house was about the same size. Could Bill have been having an affair with Sheila? Or was it something else?

A group of neighbors had surrounded the crash scene. A couple of them had their cell phones to their ears, probably making the same 9-1-1 call she’d just made. She again thought about Ramirez and offered up a quick prayer for the officer.

“What happened here?” Mindy asked, slowing.

“I’ll explain when we get to your house.”

Eight

Jackson was standing near Officer Moody when the call came across a police radio the man had attached to his uniform. He listened closely.

Sir, we just got a report that Ramirez was involved in a two-car collision that flipped her vehicle. It’s bad, sir. She’s unconscious on the scene. We have vehicles en route now.

Moody cursed, responded, “What about her passenger?”

Not sure. Still gathering information.

Jackson stiffened. Were they talking about Kara? Was she the passenger? Was Ramirez the officer who was bringing her here?

“Location?” Moody asked.

Corner of Timberline and Ewing.

“Copy that.”

Jackson stepped urgently forward. “Is my wife the passenger?”

Moody nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

A new round of terror coursed through his body. Could his wife have survived witnessing a murder only to be crushed in a random car wreck? Was fate that cruel? The corner of Timberline and Ewing was only five blocks away. He had to get to her immediately. Without hesitating, Jackson spun around and began sprinting up the sidewalk in the same direction as the car wreck. He could likely get there faster on foot than taking the time to pull his car out of the garage. His flip-flops nearly flew off his feet with each aggressive step forward, but he never slowed. He would run barefoot if necessary. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. The officer in the car wreck was unconscious? What did that mean for Kara? How badly had she been hurt?

Jackson cut through yards at street corners, doing whatever he could to get there as fast as possible. He hadn’t sprinted like this in years. Probably not since playing baseball at Auburn ten years ago. He turned one more street corner and spotted the car wreck up ahead. A police car and an ambulance had arrived. A collection of neighbors all stood around the upside-down police vehicle, which sat in the middle of the street. Jackson was out of breath when he got there. He spotted two medics working on a uniformed female officer on the pavement. The officer looked like she was now alert. That was good. But there was no sign of Kara anywhere. He hurried up to another officer who was standing near the wreckage.

“Where is the woman who was in the vehicle with Ramirez?” he asked.

The officer’s forehead wrinkled. “Who are you?”

“I’m her husband! What happened to her?”

“We don’t know, sir. Neighbors reported spotting a woman running away from the scene right after the wreck occurred.”

“Running away? Why?”

“We’re still gathering information. We don’t know where she went.”

Jackson tried to process that. On one hand, he was relieved to hear his wife was physically okay enough to walk (or run) away from what was clearly a bad car wreck. But why would Kara just leave like that? Especially when the officer was badly injured. It didn’t make any sense. He glanced across the way, spotted a black Cadillac Escalade with a smashed-up front end. He immediately recognized it as belonging to Sheila Parsons, who had nearly hit him a few minutes ago. There was the familiar football sticker in the back window. Had Sheila collided with the police vehicle?

“Is the other driver okay?” he asked the officer.

“Not sure. We can’t find the driver either.”

“Are you serious?”

“We think they must’ve also fled the scene. Maybe a hit-and-run.”

Jackson’s face bunched up. He couldn’t imagine Sheila doing such a thing. She lived in the neighborhood. Everyone would know this was her vehicle. There was nowhere for her to go. Jackson turned around, stared into the crowd of people watching nearby. One of them had to have seen in which direction Kara had fled. He needed to get that information and pursue the same route. His wife had to be close by. He still couldn’t fathom why she’d left the scene. Could Kara have suffered from a head injury? Was she out there completely disoriented?

He searched the faces of the onlookers and then paused on one. Oliver Bigsby. His golfing neighbor. The same guy who had just been standing next to him over at his house a few minutes ago. How was Oliver already at the scene? Jackson was about to walk over and find out, when he noticed Oliver pull out his cell phone and stare at it for a long moment. Jackson saw the man’s eyebrows pinch. Then his golfing buddy turned and quickly slipped away through the group.

Nine

Kara noticed Mindy take a left when she should’ve taken a right.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Somewhere we can talk.”

Kara’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean, talk? We have to get to your house, Mindy. You don’t understand. We need police protection right now.”

Mindy exhaled, shook her head. “It’s unfortunately you who doesn’t understand, Kara. This should’ve never happened.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll explain in a moment.”

Kara was stunned by the sudden change in her friend’s tone. She no longer sounded like a woman who was dealing with the shock of hearing her husband had just been murdered. Instead, she sounded steadier and more calculated. Why?

A minute later, Mindy pulled her vehicle into an empty parking lot behind the local Little League baseball fields, parked the car, and turned off the headlights.

“What’s going on?” Kara asked.

“Get out, and I’ll tell you.”

Mindy opened her door, stepped out of the vehicle. Kara couldn’t wrap her head around what was happening. Her mind started to ponder a reality she hadn’t even considered up to this point. Could her friend somehow be involved with her husband’s death? Could Mindy have already known Bill was dead? Did she know who pulled the trigger?

Kara hesitantly exited the vehicle. Mindy was standing near the front bumper. Kara walked around to join her, brow furrowed, arms crossed. The parking lot was mostly dark, with only a couple of lights at the corners. The baseball field lights were off now. The quiet made this all feel a bit more alarming. Just a few blocks away was absolute chaos. But Mindy had chosen to come here instead.

“Tell me why we’re here, Mindy.”

Mindy looked over, frowned. “I never meant for you to get involved, Kara.”

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t supposed to be at my house tonight.”

“But you told me about Bill’s potential affair. You asked me to watch the house.”

“I was just emotional and babbling. I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“I’m your friend, Mindy. That’s what real friends do.”

“I know, I just . . . this is so bad.”

Kara’s next words felt surreal as they came out of her mouth. “Please tell me you’re not involved with Bill’s death.”

Mindy looked up, eyes watering. “Bill told me this morning he wanted a divorce. He said he was in love with someone else. That we were done. I begged him to stay. But he’d already made up his mind.”

“So you had him killed?”

“No, I mean . . . that wasn’t my intention. We were only trying to threaten him. It just . . . happened. He was going to take everything from me and my kids.”

“Mindy, no . . . this was not the way. You shouldn’t have done this.”

Kara brought a hand to her mouth. Speculating on the truth was one thing. Hearing her friend confirm it was another. Kara felt her whole body tighten up. This had taken a nightmarish turn she’d never imagined. How could Mindy have done this? And what was her friend about to do next?

Mindy’s face bunched up tightly. “My kids are everything to me, Kara! You know that. I would do anything to protect them.”

“You said we. Who shot Bill, Mindy?”

“Someone who actually loves me. And who will take care of me.”

This was another surprise. “Are you telling me you were also having an affair?”

“You don’t understand. You don’t know what it feels like being so lonely in a marriage. Having a husband who never even wants to touch you and will barely talk to you. What you and Jackson have is different.”

Kara’s mind suddenly flashed on seeing Mindy a couple of times at the park with one of her other married neighbors. They were letting their dogs run free while sitting on a bench together. Maybe a little too close, now that she thought about it. The man was the same size as the shooter she’d spotted in the kitchen. Same brown hair. Kara cursed. And he would often wear cowboy boots. “Oliver?”

Mindy’s eyes flashed open. “How did you know?”

“Doesn’t matter. How could you do that? Oliver and Wendy have three kids. The youngest has special needs.”

“Oliver is as lonely as me.”

“If you care about your kids, Mindy, you have to stop this right now. Oliver almost killed me earlier and might have killed a police officer. You can’t let this keep going.”

Mindy’s brow tightened. “I can’t do that.”

“I won’t lie for you, Mindy. I can’t be part of this in any way.”

“I know, Kara. And that breaks my heart. Because you’ve been a good friend.”

Kara suddenly realized she was in danger and wondered if Mindy had a weapon on her. The woman’s purse was still inside the vehicle. And Kara didn’t see anywhere Mindy could be hiding a gun on her body. Still, she felt threatened. Her friend’s tone had gone ice cold.

Kara took a step back. “I’m leaving now. I’m going to the police.”

Mindy locked eyes with her. “I’m sorry, Kara. I really am.”

Kara turned, ready to bolt. But then she froze. Oliver Bigsby was standing directly behind her. Denim jacket, blue jeans, brown cowboy boots. He had somehow slipped in from the shadows without Kara even realizing it. And he had a gun pointed directly at her. Mindy must’ve texted Oliver earlier when she’d claimed she was messaging the party host. Kara felt her stomach drop, her breathing stop. She had no time to react and nowhere to go. Had trying to help a friend cost Kara her life?

Ten

Jackson had immediately followed his golfing buddy. It had made no sense to him that Oliver Bigsby had been at the car wreck scene before him. Unless Oliver had been the one who’d stolen and driven off in Sheila’s Cadillac Escalade. Sheila had probably left her key in the vehicle. An accident? Jackson was starting to doubt it. He flashed back on his conversation with Oliver outside Bill and Mindy’s house. Oliver had asked if Jackson had tried to track Kara’s phone. He’d encouraged Jackson to check her phone for photos or videos. He’d stayed close to Jackson the entire time he was with Officer Moody. At the time, Jackson thought the man was just being a decent guy. Did he have other motives? Could Oliver have pulled the trigger that killed Bill? Had he been waiting around the crime scene, hoping to somehow get to Kara when she eventually returned? When he heard Officer Moody receive the news that Kara had been found and was headed back, did he make his move? Did he know where Kara was now? Was that why he’d slipped away from the crowd so swiftly?

All these questions shot adrenaline straight through him. Oliver was in a hurry, but Jackson easily kept up with him, while staying just far enough back to keep his neighbor unaware. Jackson first wanted to know where Oliver was going before accosting him for the truth. They traveled four blocks before Oliver slowed near the parking lot behind the Little League baseball fields. Jackson squinted up ahead. There was a vehicle parked in the back. Although it was dark, it looked like Mindy’s Mercedes SUV.

When Oliver slowed, Jackson also slowed. What was going on? Was Mindy inside her vehicle? He couldn’t tell from this distance. But it alarmed him. Could Oliver be going after Kara’s friend next? Had he shot the husband first and was now aiming for the wife? Or was it something else?

He watched as Oliver crept in the shadows toward the parked vehicle. The guy was clearly trying to move in unnoticed. If Mindy was inside the vehicle, she could be in grave danger. Oliver would reach her in a matter of seconds. Jackson needed to get there before it was too late. When he was within thirty yards of the white SUV, Jackson noticed two women standing in front of it. He hadn’t seen them before.

One was Mindy. Jackson’s eyes widened. The other was his wife.

Eleven

Kara closed her eyes in anticipation of the gunfire. She couldn’t believe this was the end. Her mind flashed on her kids and her husband. She would give anything to be back with them again. She was so sorry for ever leaving the house tonight. She flinched when she heard the now-familiar body-shaking bang! of the gun. But she felt nothing. Why not? Her eyes shot open. Just in time to watch her husband take Oliver to the pavement from behind, like Jackson was a linebacker smashing a quarterback. Her husband landed square on top of the man with tremendous force, causing Oliver to grunt loudly in pain. The gun bounced out of the man’s hand, slid across the pavement, and settled at Mindy’s feet.

When her ex-friend reached down for the weapon, Kara reacted immediately. She swiftly kicked at the woman’s head. Kara had played soccer in high school, so the movement was natural and powerful. Her running shoe landed square against Mindy’s nose, whipped her head back, and sent her toppling over to the side. The woman shrieked and brought both hands to her face. Kara had heard something crack. Mindy’s nose was probably broken.

Kara went for the gun, grabbed it with both hands, and then rose up to point it. First at Mindy, who froze while on her knees. And then she spun around and aimed it at Oliver, who was still trying to fight back against her husband.

“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot you!” Kara yelled.

Oliver immediately stopped struggling.

It was over.

The police arrived within minutes. Kara watched as both of her neighbors were quickly handcuffed and stuffed into the backs of two different police cars. The whole thing was like an out-of-body experience. Kara felt numb. If Jackson hadn’t arrived when he did, Mindy would have actually let Oliver shoot her. She was sure of it. The one friend she’d made since she’d moved to town was going to let her be executed. Kara really knew how to pick them.

Jackson finished speaking with Officer Moody and came back over to her. They embraced, held each other tight. Kara allowed herself to fully collapse into his arms, face tucked into his neck. She’d almost lost him and her family. She’d almost lost seeing her children grow up. Watching them graduate high school and then college. Crying at their weddings. One day holding her grandkids. Their entire future together.

“You sure you’re all right?” Jackson asked.

“I’m okay. Now that it’s over and you’re here.”

“I was so scared, Kara.”

“Me too. I’m so sorry. I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve stayed home.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe.”

She leaned in and kissed him. They held on to the kiss for a long moment. Mindy had been right about one thing. What Kara had with Jackson was different. And she was so thankful for that tonight. “I’m tired. Can we please go home now?”

“Yes, a police officer is waiting to take us.”

“Good. I want to see the kids. And I know we don’t normally do this, but I want them both to sleep in our bed tonight. Maybe for the next week.”

Jackson grinned, pulled her in close again. “Now, that is an idea I can get behind.”

About the Author

Photo © 2019 Amy Melsa

Chad Zunker is the Amazon Charts bestselling author of The Wife You Know; All He Has Left; Family Money; the David Adams series, which was nominated for the 2020 Harper Lee Prize for Legal Fiction; and the Sam Callahan series. He studied journalism at the University of Texas.