A Trace of Hope Read online

The vehicle was a black Lincoln Continental, and even with the curves and the speed, she could see it had no front license plate. Her mind flashed back to the security footage she’d seen months earlier, as a man in a ski mask got out of a similar-looking car with no plates, snuck up along the driver’s side of a van, and put a bullet in the head of the driver.

  After that, he’d dragged a teenage girl out of the back of the van and forced her into his trunk before driving off. The girl was Evie. The man who’d been shot had been keeping her in his home for over a year. And the shooter was the infamous Black Widower, assassin-for-hire.

  This was the mystery man that Mags had told her cleaned up the messes of the rich and powerful, including Jackson Cave. He was also the man who, for thousands of dollars, had anonymously given Keri a lead on Evie’s potential whereabouts. He didn’t seem picky about his clients, as long as he got paid and kept his identity secret from everyone. Apparently this morning, Cave had hired him again.

  Keri glanced at her GPS and saw that it was still a good two miles before she would reach the diner at the bottom of the hill where she was supposed to meet up with Ray, who was still nowhere to be found behind her. Her phone still had no signal.

  A creeping sense that the situation was about to escalate came over her. Cave had obviously decided that not only would he not be making peace with her, he was going to ensure that she couldn’t cause him any more trouble, ever. And this time he wasn’t sending two suited goons. He was sending a professional killer.

  What worried Keri most about this situation was that she wasn’t prepared for it at all. If the Black Widower was behind her now, did that mean that he’d been at Cave’s house when she was there? Was she just unlucky that he was already there to discuss some pending assignment to take someone out—maybe her?

  He had to have been close by. It wasn’t like he could have zipped out to Malibu on a whim if Cave had called him ten minutes prior. Was he the person who Cave had been on the phone with when she arrived? Or had he simply followed her and Ray all the way out here from the city?

  Keri forced those questions out of her head to focus on the more immediate problem. The Black Widower was behind her. And that meant that while she was in that beautiful living room, politely asking Jackson Cave to spare her daughter’s life, a professional assassin had been outside, using his skills to prepare to eliminate her. And until just now, she’d been oblivious to it. Had he tampered with her car while she was inside? How long had he been tailing her before he’d gotten this close behind her? Was he preparing to ram her from behind at the next turn?

  As she rounded out of the latest curve into a brief straightaway, she saw a turnout area off to the right and decided to take matters into her own hands. Without signaling to warn him, she pulled over to allow the Lincoln to pass her, taking her foot off the accelerator. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw that the Lincoln had slowed as well.

  At least he’s not planning to ram me.

  Keri pressed on the brake, hoping to force him to pass her or stop completely. But nothing happened. She pumped harder but it only took her a fraction of a second to process that this was the Black Widower’s doing. He had sabotaged her brake line and simply waited for a good time to blow it. Since she’d made him, this was apparently it.

  The end of the turnout was coming up fast and she yanked the steering wheel hard to the left to get back on the road. Nothing happened. The wheel had locked in place, likely the Black Widower’s doing as well. She was headed for the cliff edge at twenty-five miles an hour and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  The abyss was less than fifteen feet away. Without hesitation, Keri opened the unlocked door with her left hand as she undid her seat belt with her right. She grabbed the outer frame of the car and used it to propel herself out and away, even as she felt the front of the vehicle start to topple over the edge.

  She landed hard on the turnout asphalt but only stayed there for a moment. Her momentum almost immediately pulled her backward toward the cliff and she found herself rolling quickly off the asphalt, onto a clump of weeds and dirt and then over a small hump of rock debris that slowed her briefly before she felt herself start to fall, with nothing beneath her.

  Disoriented, she reached up and flailed desperately for anything to hold onto. Her hands clutched some wild plants before slipping and landing on a jagged rock. Her fingertips gripped it tight and managed to slow her downward motion for a second before the rock came loose from the dirt and she began to slide downward again.

  She grasped at anything on the side of the cliff as she shoved her feet inward, hoping to lodge them against something solid. Her left toe stuck in a hole as her hands clutched at several more plants growing out of the side of the rock face. Her momentum stopped.

  Keri took advantage of the moment. Ignoring the piles of dirt raining on her from above, which made seeing and breathing clearly nearly impossible, and pretending her entire body wasn’t crying out in agony and fear, she looked down.

  Her car was still tumbling down what looked to be about 1,200 more feet of near-sheer canyon. The drop-off directly below her was about 150 feet of empty space before a shelf of sharp rocks that would turn her into a pulpy mess if she landed in it.

  She could already feel the plants she was holding onto start to strain at their roots and her tentative toe-hold beginning to give way. It was a good five feet back up to the lip of the cliff, but even if she could make it, what was the point? That was where the Black Widower was, likely approaching her position right now.

  Glancing down to her right, Keri saw a small rock outcropping about the size of a square-ish bale of hay jutting out from the side of the cliff. It was at least a seven-foot drop and she might easily slip off it if she didn’t get a good grip right away. But if she landed just right, she was pretty sure it would support her weight.

  But to get to it, she had to jump to the right and that meant pushing off from her already tenuous position. Still, she had no choice. Her grip was failing, the plants were definitely giving way, and she could feel the dirt crumbling in the hole where her shoe was jammed.

  Allowing herself one deep breath to regroup, Keri sucked in all the air she could without screaming in pain and then pushed off hard again with her left foot and her hands. As she plummeted across empty space, feeling the freezing canyon wind whip against her sweat-covered body, Keri kept her eyes focused on nothing but the outcropping, ignoring the hundreds of feet of nothingness that surrounded it.

  She saw almost right away that she was going to make it far enough but that her landing would be especially hard. Unfortunately, she had no choice but to take the full brunt of the impact across her torso. If she curled up to protect herself, she worried that she might bounce right off and continue down to the rocks below.

  So she spread herself out like an upside down U and allowed her body to collapse onto to the outcropping and absorb the force of the collision. As the rock knocked the wind out of her and she felt a surge of pain in her chest, Keri squeezed one side of the outcropping with her upper arms and elbows and the other side with her upper legs.

  When she was sure the rock wasn’t going to break free from the side of the cliff, she opened her eyes, pulled her knees up onto the outcropping, and slowly rolled over so that she was actually sitting on the small rock ledge, with her back against the cliff wall. For the moment at least, despite everything, she was alive.

  “How’s it going down there?” a disturbingly casual voice called out from above her.

  Keri tried to look up but realized that at her angle, she could only see the top of the head of the person talking to her. The one good thing was that meant it was also likely hard for him to see, and therefore shoot, her.

  “Peachy,” she yelled back and almost immediately wished she hadn’t. The adrenaline from the last thirty seconds, as she had gone from near-death to something approaching temporary safety, had started to fade. And as it did, shock waves of pain hit her.


  Her chest burned as the words escaped her mouth, as if the simple pressure of air against her battered ribs and lungs was too much to take. The casual slacks she wore were ripped from thigh to shin and some of the pants material had embedded in her knees where she’d landed on the asphalt after jumping from the car. It was hard to tell where the bloody clothing ended and the shredded skin began.

  She noticed that one of her shoes was missing. Underneath the layer of bloody dirt, she saw that her hands were completely raw and that she had lost several fingernails. And blood was dripping pretty generously onto her jacket from somewhere on the right side of her face.

  “I’m really sorry about this, Detective,” she heard the voice call from up above. She didn’t even try to look up this time as her neck hurt when she arched it. “When I heard you were my next assignment, I was genuinely disappointed. And in my line of work, I almost never have an emotional reaction to an assignment.”

  Keri considered trying to come up with a line that might play into that emotion, to get him to reconsider. But she knew it was pointless. Feeling bad about the job didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it. Besides, she was too exhausted to say anything anyway.

  “I’ve always been an admirer of your…gumption,” he continued.

  The voice sounded slightly different now. Despite the pain, Keri forced herself to look to up and almost wished she hadn’t. She realized he sounded different because he was closer.

  He had attached a rope to the rock above and had started to edge down the cliff side, about three feet from the top. He wasn’t properly tied in and obviously had no intention of coming all the way down to her spot, another ten feet below. He was just trying to get a better angle from which to shoot her.

  “Can’t you just let me freeze to death?” she asked bitterly.

  “That wouldn’t be very professional,” he replied, as she watched him wrap the rope around his left forearm several times while reaching into his waistband with his right hand for what she assumed was his gun.

  His gun.

  That’s when Keri remembered that, although she’d left her primary weapon in her glove compartment when she’d gone into Cave’s house, she still had her ankle pistol.

  As quickly as she could, Keri leaned over, ignoring the shooting twinge in her midsection as she reached for her ankle. But when she pulled up what was left of her pant leg, the holster was gone. It must have gotten ripped off at some point during the whole car-jump cliff-fall thing.

  She looked up at the Black Widower, who was smiling down at her as he pointed his gun at her. She could see his face clearly for the first time. With his dirty blond hair and his warm brown eyes, he was quite handsome.

  “If you’re looking for your ankle piece, I saw it up on the road here. I guess it came loose when you were tumbling toward the cliff. Nice try though. Like I said, gumptio—”

  Before he could say anything else, Keri heard a pop and a thud. His body shuddered as a spray of blood exploded from the general area of his left shoulder. Then, ever so slowly, he careened backward and his feet slipped off the cliff side before he fell quickly and suddenly downward, straight toward Keri.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  There was nowhere for Keri to go and almost no time to react. Without even thinking about it and all in one motion, she pressed her back up against the cliff wall even harder than before and dropped her legs on either side of the outcropping, as if she was straddling a horse.

  A moment later, the Black Widower thudded down on the rock, right where her knees had just been. The force of the collision bounced his body up a foot in the air before he toppled over the edge and into the void.

  Keri waited for him to tumble down but he didn’t. Instead, he dangled there in midair, only feet away from her, just slightly below the outcropping. It took her a second to realize that it was because the rope he’d wrapped around his left forearm was still attached. It had prevented him from falling to the canyon floor but it had also yanked his arm and shoulder into a grotesque, inhuman angle. In addition, the left shoulder was seeping blood from what was clearly a gunshot wound.

  As he swung slowly away from her, he opened his eyes and a soft moan escaped his lips. His eyes were unfocused and he seemed disoriented, trying to get his bearings. His body softly bumped against the canyon wall and began to sway back in her direction.

  As he got closer, Keri noticed that he was still somehow holding the gun. He didn’t seem aware that it was in his hand. But if his head cleared, and he chose to, he would have a point-blank shot at her.

  Rather than wait and hope, Keri forced her throbbing body forward so that she was lying flat on her stomach. When the Black Widower’s momentum brought him within a foot of her, she reached out and grabbed for the gun.

  That seemed to jostle him into a more coherent state of consciousness. His eyes cleared and bored in on her as he tried to rip the weapon free. But weakened by the fall, the damage from his twisted arm and the gunshot wound, he couldn’t wrestle it free.

  But he didn’t need much strength to fire the gun and after a few seconds of wrangling, he seemed to register that his finger was on the trigger. Keri saw his eyes widen and knew what was about to happen. She heard the click of the safety coming off and yanked his arm down as he fired. The bullet slammed into the rock outcropping, sending a cloud of dust up into the air around them both.

  Before he could fire a second shot, Keri jerked his hand toward her, slamming the gun into the rock. She felt it slip from his grasp and bounce off the hard surface. Even though she couldn’t see it, she knew it was on its way to the bottom of the canyon.

  She let go and the Black Widower swung away from her again in that slow arc that bent his left shoulder so far back she thought it might actually snap off. He winced but didn’t cry out.

  “Keri!” she heard a voice call out desperately from above. It was Ray.

  She was about to respond when she saw the Black Widower reach for something with his right hand. As his body bumped against the cliff side again, he pushed off hard with both feet so that he would come back faster this time.

  Keri saw him rip open the Velcro on an exterior pants pocket and pull out a six-inch hunting knife. As he flew through the air toward her, he tore off the sheath with his teeth, then raised the knife high above his head.

  Keri realized that his momentum would lift him above the outcropping at the apex of his swing. He would actually be higher than her and able to jab the knife down at her as gravity forced him back to the ground. Her only chance was to somehow get upright again so she would be in a better position to defend herself.

  So, with a speed she didn’t know she was capable of under the circumstances, she did what was essentially a burpee on the canyon outcropping, pushing up to her knees, then leaping up and backward with such force that her head slammed into the canyon wall behind her.

  Right as she felt that impact, she braced for another one as the Black Widower swung the knife at her. But in his weakened state and with them now at equal height, she was able to grab his wrist with both hands before he could get the point close to her body.

  They struggled there for a moment, him trying to break free of her grasp, Keri attempting to twist his wrist to force the knife loose. She tried to brace her feet but they skidded slightly on the sandy, gravelly surface. For a second, she thought she might slip off the ledge entirely.

  “Keri, are you down there?” Ray screamed. His voice had a tinge of desperation to it. She wanted to reply, to reassure him that she was safe. But the truth was, she wasn’t safe. And she was too busy to talk.

  Hearing the anguish in Ray’s voice seemed to make the Black Widower happy. Keri saw a twisted grimace come over his face. His eyes gleamed with malice. Seeing that, Keri felt bubbles of venom rise in her throat, a fury she’d never experienced before. She was sick of playing defense with this bastard.

  This ends now.

  Before she knew what she was doing, she had dived forward and sunk her teeth de
ep into the soft underside of the Widower’s right wrist. She heard his scream as she clamped down with all her might and ripped her head back. As she did, she felt sinewy tendons and cartilage and god knows what else come with her.

  The Black Widower let go of the knife and she caught it in midair as it fell. As he swung slowly away from her, howling in agony, blood spewing from his ruined wrist, Keri spit out whatever it was she’d taken from him and called out to Ray.

  “I’m down here. I’m okay…mostly.”

  “Thank God,” he said. “I can’t see you. What the hell is going on down there?”

  “Just give me a minute to catch my breath, Ray.”

  With one hand holding the knife, she rested the other on the canyon wall for support. The rope eased slowly back toward her and she was able to reach out and grab it. The Black Widower, whose slumped frame was now a few feet below hers, looked up at her.

  He was pressing his wrist against his chest to stem the bleeding but it wasn’t doing much good. The blood coming from his shoulder wound was oozing even more profusely than before.

  “Looks like my partner got you pretty good,” Keri said, nodding at the gunshot.

  “Flesh wound,” he responded through gritted, bloody teeth.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she agreed, partly admiring his grim refusal to give an inch. “But you’ve got a lot of them—the gunshot, the wrist, the shoulder dislocated beyond comprehension.”

  “I’ve recovered from worse,” he muttered.

  Keri nodded. Her blind fury had faded. But it had been replaced with a cold sense of righteous vengeance. She grabbed the knife in her right hand and held the rope taut with the raw, swollen fingers of her left hand. Slowly, she began to cut through the rope.

  “You’re not recovering this time,” she said softly.

  “Don’t you want to know who hired me?” he asked in what she knew was a desperate bid to bide time.

  “I already know who hired you,” she replied, her eyes focused only on the rope.