Chapter 25 · Crosshairs in the Deluge

The back tire slid out on the wet concrete, and I almost laid the bike down right in front of the pier gate.

I caught it with my knee. Rain hit my face like thrown gravel. The eight-carat diamond was still on my finger, heavy as a brass knuckle. I should've thrown it in the sound before I left.

Behind me, up the cliff road, headlights slid across the razor wire. Four sets. Maybe five.

They weren't speeding. That was worse. People who rush can be outrun. People who already know where you're going just wait.

North Loading Pier. The air stank of marine diesel, so thick I could taste it. Cranes groaned overhead in the wind. Down the dock, one yellow light burned in the guard shack.

I killed the engine and ran.

Here's what I had. Three weeks of dock logs, sitting in my head like a photograph. One name on a shell payment that didn't belong. Teo Brandt, night supervisor.