The tires screeched as I took the corner onto Elm Street.

The rain was coming down harder now, turning the asphalt into a black mirror.

Caleb gripped the dashboard with both hands, his knuckles white.

“What are we doing, Dan?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“We are getting Sophia,” I said.

“Wade’s deputies will shoot you on sight,” Caleb said.

“They won’t see me,” I said.

I killed the headlights two blocks before we reached the county precinct.

The building was a low, gray concrete block with high windows and a gravel parking lot.

Only two patrol cars were parked out front.

Wade’s personal cruiser, a black SUV, sat idling near the side door.

“Stay in the truck,” I told Caleb.

“Daniel, please,” he said. “Let’s just give her the ledger.”

“Margaret will kill Sophia anyway,” I said. “And she will take Leo.”

I reached under the driver’s seat and pulled out my old service pistol.

I checked the magazine, slapped it back into the grip, and chambered a round.

“If I’m not back in five minutes, drive to the highway,” I said.