Chapter 40
The stairs descended into older construction, built into bedrock instead of perched on top of it. The air changed as Cara moved lower—cooler, damper, the acrid dust and smoke from above giving way to the smell of salt and wet stone.
Her hand trailed the rough wall as she followed the sound of Hale's footsteps and David's protests echoing from below.
Emergency lights were strung along the corridor at intervals, creating pools of yellow glow separated by deep shadows.
Someone had maintained this space, kept it functional while the building above rotted.
The stairs ended at a heavy door standing ajar. Hale had gone through fast.
She peered around the edge.
A tunnel stretched ahead, carved through solid rock and shored up with ancient timber. More emergency lights hung from the ceiling like Christmas lights, leading toward the rhythmic crash of waves she could hear but not yet see. The walls wept moisture, and the air tasted of diesel fuel and brine.
The boat house.
Wade had been right about the station having direct water access—perfect for smuggling, perfect for an escape route Hale had probably used for twenty years.
Ahead, Hale's rough voice bounced off stone. "Keep moving. Don't make this harder than it has to be."
David's response was lost to the ambient noise of footfalls and distant waves.
Cara slipped into the tunnel, careful not to make a sound.
If Hale saw her, she had nowhere to run.
The skills came back like muscle memory.
Stay on the balls of your feet. Control your breathing.
Use the darkness between lights. The fire extinguisher felt heavy in her hands, cold metal warming slowly against her palms.
The tunnel sloped downward toward water level. Crates were stacked along the walls—recent and well-maintained. Clear evidence of regular traffic. How many boats had come and gone through that boat house? How many shipments had Hale overseen in this very tunnel?
"They'll search—" She heard David insist.
"I’m counting on it." Hale's tone carried satisfaction now, not fear. "Been planning this since your brother showed up asking questions. Fire destroys DNA. Identification will take weeks. I’ll be long gone."
Cara's blood ran cold. This was always Hale’s exit strategy. The explosives weren't panic—they were insurance. A way to by time to disappear.
No way the man she’d come to know had either the brains or the resources to plan this on his own.
The tunnel opened ahead with light spilling from a wider space. She slowed, edging carefully up to the opening.
The boat house was old Coast Guard construction—concrete and rusted metal beams that had withstood decades of Pacific storms. A single fishing vessel was tied to the dock, its engine already running, burbling and coughing.
Someone had prepped and fueled it, made sure Hale could leave the moment he arrived.
Hale dragged David toward the boat with his gun pressed hard into David's ribs. "Get in."
David stumbled and tried to plant his feet. "No."
Hale slammed the butt of his gun into David’s temple. Hands to his head, David staggered sideways.
He would have fallen off the narrow dock if Hale hadn’t grabbed him. "I said get in."
Cara stepped from the shadows, the fire extinguisher clutched in both hands. "Let him go."
Hale spun with his weapon up. When he saw her, he laughed—the sound echoing off the concrete walls.
"The baker. Even better." He trained his weapon on her, center mass. "That's brave. And stupid. Real stupid."
He studied her closer, and something shifted in his expression. Recognition. Suspicion. "Or real stupid.
"Let David go. Take me instead."
She played the scared civilian, the helpless baker, but her attention stayed on his stance, his grip, the way his finger rested just outside the trigger guard. That mistake could buy her precious nanoseconds.
Hale's tone carried that jittery edge again, fear underneath the bravado. "Now why would I do that?"
"Because I'm the one who found all your evidence. I'm the one with the notebook, the files."
She lied smoothly, easily, using the con woman's gift. Make the mark believe you have what they want. He's just a journalist. I'm the one who knows where everything is."
One hand wrapped around David’s upper arm, Hale studied her while the boat engine coughed.
The sirens had stopped, she realized. Help was on the way. But would it come in time?
"How'd you find me?" His question carried genuine curiosity beneath the suspicion.
"I'm good at finding things people want hidden." The truth, for the first time. "It's what I do."
"You ain't no baker."
Her heart slammed against her ribs, but she kept her voice level. "No. I'm not."
"Who are you really?"
Behind them, footsteps echoed in the tunnel. Multiple people coming fast.
Hale's eyes flicked past her for just a second.
Exactly the opening she needed.
Cara moved. Not away from him, but toward David—the thing Hale wouldn't expect from a scared civilian.
She swung the fire extinguisher in a wide arc. Ten pounds of metal connected with the side of Hale's head. His gun went off as he fell—a deafening crack. The bullet slammed into the dock near her feet.
She dropped the extinguisher and grabbed David's arm, hauling him toward the edge. "Jump!"
They went over the dock edge together into Pacific water so cold it stopped her heart.
The shock was total. Instant. Every nerve in her body screamed. Salt water burned her throat as she gasped involuntarily. Above them, Hale's gun fired—once, twice, three times. Bullets slapped the water around them with sounds like wet slaps against concrete.
She pulled David down, fighting his panicked struggle. Under the dock where pilings provided cover. Barnacles scraped her shoulder raw as she pressed them both against the wood. Her lungs burned. The cold was already making her limbs clumsy.
David flailed beside her, fighting to surface. She held him under, held them both under until black spots danced in her vision and her lungs screamed for air.
Gunfire erupted above. Three shots, four, five. Wood splintered above them, raining down into the water.
Cara kicked hard, sending both of them toward the other side of the dock where the boat’s dark hull waited. As the dark spots overtook her vision, she shot toward the surface, pulling David with her.