A stranger warned me my drink was laced with cyanide, so I switched glasses—only to watch my sister-in-law collapse in agony.

He didn't run.

Instead, Graham slowly lowered his surgical mask, revealing the handsome, sculpted face I had kissed every morning for four years. A faint, sickening smirk curved the corners of his lips.

"Hello, darling," Graham whispered, his voice smooth and entirely devoid of fear. "You look remarkably healthy for a woman whose funeral I was supposed to arrange tonight."

"Drop the bag and get on your knees!" Detective Vance shouted, leveling his Glock directly at Graham's chest. "Hands behind your head, Calder! Now!"

Graham didn't flinch. He casually swung the black bag in his hand. "Careful, Detective. Inside this bag is an unshielded aerosol dispersal unit containing four hundred grams of pressurized liquid chlorine gas. If you pull that trigger, I drop the toggle valve. You, my lovely wife, and half this floor will drown in your own liquefied lung tissue before the tactical squad reaches the stairs."

Vance’s boots planted firmly on the floor. His trigger finger remained steady, but a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. "You're bluffing."

"Try me," Graham purred. His gaze drifted past the gun barrel and locked entirely onto me. "You always were smarter than my mother gave you credit for, Elena. Who warned you? Was it the old man? Did Julian find you?"

*Julian.* The name slammed into my mind. The elderly stranger from the tavern.

"You tried to kill me," I spat, stepping out from behind Vance’s protective shoulder, my fists clenched so tightly my knuckles turned white. "You tried to butcher me for dirt and insurance money. And then you poisoned your own sister!"

"Paige was collateral damage," Graham said coldly, without a single shred of remorse. "Judith was always an incompetent idiot. I explicitly told her to put it in the vintage Chardonnay, not the house water. But it doesn't matter now. Paige's IV line has been disconnected from the dialysis buffer. She won't survive the night."

"You monster!" I lunged, but Vance grabbed my coat collar with his left hand, holding me back.

"Keep your distance, Elena!" Vance barked.

Graham chuckled, stepping backward toward the emergency exit door at the end of the hall. "I'm going to take that land, Elena. With or without your corpse. If I have to burn Blackwood Ridge to the ash heap, I will. But know this: you won't survive to see the trial."

With lightning speed, Graham reached into his scrub pocket, pulled out an emergency fire strobe flare, struck the ignition against the wall, and hurled it onto the linoleum floor.

A deafening hiss erupted as blinding white magnesium smoke filled the hallway, choking the air and blinding our vision.

"Down!" Vance shouted, firing two rounds down the smoke-filled corridor.

*Bang! Bang!*