I reached into his slicker pocket and pulled out his walkie-talkie.

It was switched off.

Beside it was a burner phone, its screen still glowing with a half-drafted text.

I took the phone and looked at the screen.

The message was addressed to an unknown number.

It read: *Target is still at the cabin. Kids are asleep.*

I looked at Miller’s face in the dim light of the embers.

His eyes were wide, darting toward the open door.

“Who is on the other end of this, Miller?” I asked.

He swallowed hard and remained silent.

I pressed the cold metal harder against his skin.

“Eleanor Vance doesn’t have this kind of reach on her own,” I said. “Is it Sterling?”

He did not answer, but his pulse flared against the barrel.

“We can do this the hard way, or you can live to see the morning,” I said.

“Sterling,” he whispered. “He’s got my sister’s debt. He promised to clear it.”

“Sterling is a corrupt bureaucrat who kills his liabilities,” I said. “You are a liability.”

He shivered, the wet fabric of his slicker rustling.