“She’s extremely good at her job, as you well know,” Malone said through gritted teeth. God, he’d hated Stahl from the first minute the cheeky bastard had graduated from the academy and come to work under his command when Malone had been the lieutenant in charge of the Patrol Division. He’d been a pain in Malone’s ass ever since. But this... Taking Holland hostage and doing God knows what to Mrs. Springer and her maid.

“Good at her job. Of course she is. She’s sucking all your dicks so she can run wild and do whatever she wants. Right now, she can’t do much of anything.”

“Have you hurt her?”

“Define hurt.”

“Is she injured?”

“Let me see. Yes, I think you could say she’s injured. For sure.”

“Let her go and we can work this out, Len. I can’t help you at all if you harm her. You know that.”

“Now I’m Len, huh? What happened to Fat Fuck? Oh, you didn’t know that I knew you called me that behind my back?”

“What does that have to do with Holland?”

“She’s made my life a living hell, and now I’m going to do the same to her.”

“Let me get you out of there and find you some help—”

Stahl’s loud laugh startled everyone. “Now you want to ‘help’ me. Seems to me you took great pleasure in arresting me not that long ago. Now I’m going to take great pleasure in killing your golden girl. Good to catch up, Captain. Give everyone my regards, but I’ve got work to do. Gotta go.”

“Don’t hang up.”

The line went dead.

“Motherfucker,” Malone muttered under his breath.

“You have to go in there and get her,” Nick said. “He said she’s injured.”

Malone felt for the guy. He truly did. The two of them were crazy in love. Anyone could see that. But he couldn’t risk his people without having a solid plan in place, and solid plans took time they didn’t have. He glanced at the chief. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to kill him with my bare hands,” Farnsworth growled.

“What’s your second thought?” Malone asked.

Hill came running up to them, looking frazzled. “What’s going on?”

“Stahl has Lieutenant Holland,” Malone said. “He says she’s injured but he won’t say in what way.”

“Are you going in?” Hill asked, hands on hips, eyes intense and focused.

“We were just discussing our limited options when you joined us. Nickelson, what do you think?”

“I still say we hit it hard and fast through every window and every door.”

“He’ll be ready for us,” Malone said. “He’s no fool, and he’s a well-trained police officer. He knows what we’ll do.”

“So let’s play right into his hand,” Gonzo said.

“How so?” Hill asked.

“Let’s give him exactly what he expects. We give him his big moment and let him go out in his blaze of glory. That’s what this is. There’s no way he’ll survive in prison, and he knows that.”

“What about Sam?” Nick asked. “If you go in there with guns blazing, he’s apt to take her with him.”

“If we don’t go in there,” Malone said, keying in to where Gonzo was heading, “he’s going to take her with him anyway.”

“Exactly,” Gonzo said.

“Chief?” Malone looked to his longtime friend. “It’s your call.”

Farnsworth looked at the house for a long moment while everyone waited for him to decide. He never blinked when he said, “Do it.”

* * *

The smell of gas was overwhelming and made Sam’s eyes burn. He dumped it around her in a big circle.

“You’ve lost your mind,” Marissa croaked from the floor.

Stahl crossed the room to dump some of the gas on her.

She screamed from the pain of the gas connecting with her wound.

“I’m so fucking sick of women who think they should have an opinion. Shut your fucking mouths and do what you were put on this earth to do—spread your legs and breed. Lori Phillips understood that. When I offered her cocaine in exchange for a lay, she spread her legs wide open.”

“You’re a pig,” Marissa said.

Sam couldn’t have said it better herself. Her legs would have to be wide open to accommodate him.

“Worst thing they ever did was let bitches into the police department. Ruined everything.”

Listening to his rant, Sam felt vindicated for the nearly visceral reaction she’d had the first time she ever met him. Her gut had let her know he was no good, and nothing she’d seen of him in the ensuing years had changed that first impression. But to hear his true thoughts about women in general and women on the job, in particular, was illuminating.

Speaking of illuminating... He pulled a box of matches from his pocket and shook it in front of her face. “Ready to roast?”

As she had all along, Sam pretended she couldn’t hear him and tried to remain calm despite the pervasive stench of gasoline and the maniac with the matches. During her years on the job, she’d imagined a number of different ways her life might suddenly end. Most of the scenarios she’d imagined found her on the wrong end of a gun. She certainly hadn’t considered the possibility that one of her fellow officers would wrap her in razor wire and set her on fire. And here she’d thought she had such a good imagination.

If it weren’t so fucking sad, she’d laugh her ass off at the sheer lunacy of her life ending at the hands of Leonard Stahl, of all people.

She was scared. She’d never deny that. The idea of burning to death wasn’t something she relished. But rather than obsess about what was about to happen and how she couldn’t do a thing to stop it, she chose to think about her gorgeous husband, her handsome son, her sisters, her beloved dad, her nieces and nephews, her friends and colleagues at work and the amazing life she’d been privileged to lead. Sam thought about the mother from whom she was estranged and knew a moment of regret. She should’ve fixed things with her. If by some miracle she made it out of here, she’d take care of mending those fences.

She was loved, admired, respected and feared on the job, which brought her tremendous pleasure. She’d loved every second of her life and her career and especially her marriage to the most amazing man on the planet. Her adorable, wonderful Scotty had made her a mother, and he was everything she could ever hope for in a son. She had no regrets. She would’ve liked a little more time. She would’ve loved the opportunity to be pregnant with Nick’s child, but overall, no regrets.

Stahl struck a match and flashed an evil grin as the flame ignited.

While Sam held her breath waiting for him to drop it into the gas he’d spread around the room, he looked at her and smiled maniacally, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. He’d truly lost what was left of his mind if he thought he was going to get out of here alive. And then it occurred to her in a moment of clarity that he planned to go with her. Cops didn’t do well in prison, and one with his snarky personality would be in for a particularly rough time of it.

Her spirits sank even further, if that was possible. Just do it already, and be done with it. But no, he wanted to drag out his moment of glory, so he blew out that match and reached for another. She could so see him going through the entire box before he dropped the last one into the gas.

Good, let him dick around for a while. That gave her people time to figure out where she was and how to get her out of there.

As long as he didn’t accidentally drop one of those matches.

Sam directed her gaze to where Marissa lay on the floor by the windows. She’d stopped making noise shortly after Stahl had doused her with gas, and Sam wondered if she was dead. Not that she cared about Marissa, who’d played her for a fool and led her into hell. Normally she felt compassion for murder victims. Not this time. She’d made a deal with a sadistic asshole and had gotten exactly what she deserved.

Stahl continued to work his way through the box of matches.

Sam wondered how many were left before he was down to the last one, and the moment of truth would be upon them.