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lawyer to come up with a settlement she could offer Darek over the holidays. Basia heard Darek’s voice when she reached the front foyer. She walked closer toward the kitchen. She slid up against the wall behind the kitchen door. Her jaw dropped as she listened to his plan to kill her during their holiday hike. What shocked her more was his confession of her parents’ deaths. It wasn’t an accident.
    Against her better judgement, she realized time had run out and she had to kill him first. She set her escape to freedom in motion. She knew of the fatalities that happened in the mountains. She could make it appear as an accidental death. Then she’d be alive and free of Darek Bernard. Basia planned to play the grieving widow and then return to New York. There was nothing left in Zakopane for her. It was time to play his game. His game of control; one he was about to lose.
     

Chapter Two
     
    Eight Months Later - New York
    Humidity lingered the streets of New York for days. A faint breeze in the air delivered relief. Normally the air-conditioned, unmarked, black SUV cooled Detective Riley Briggs, but to be able to open the window felt good. He felt it cool his skin, and after a long hot humid day; he appreciated the fresh air. A noise jolted him from his relaxed state, and he shifted his head in the direction of the sound. He turned to his partner, Detective Steve Mason.
    “Shots fired.”
                  Steve turned at such an abrupt angle, the tires screeched, and Riley jolted forward. He hit the dashboard when Steve slammed on the brakes.
                  “Damn, Steve! Why did I let you drive tonight?”
                  Steve’s sarcasm rolled out through a chuckle. “Seatbelts were invented, partner. You should try them sometime.” Steve drove back a block to where they heard the shots fired and parked. Riley reached for his holster and drew his gun as he exited the SUV.
                  “Smartass,” he joked, and then released the safety on his gun.
                  Steve ignored his partner’s sarcasm, as usual, and headed into the darkened alley. Riley followed until his partner reached a garbage bin. He held his hand up to motion for Riley to stop. Steve backed up against the brick wall and began a count of three with his fingers.
                  Utter silence filled the air. Riley knew he should call for backup. This wouldn’t be the first time they didn’t follow protocol. The detectives were known for that. Riley’s first instinct; check first then call, in case someone needed immediate assistance. It was his usual defence when his lieutenant came down hard on him. Steve continued into the alley cautiously with his finger on the trigger. He motioned to Riley, with a slight movement of his head, when voices were heard. Steve moved slowly around the corner.
    Down! The last word Riley heard as he watched his partner fall to the ground. Gunfire broke the still silence and deafened Riley. He fired in return, but the darkened alley made it difficult to get a visual.
    Riley reached for his radio on his shoulder and spoke quickly.
    “10-13, officer down, 10-13”
    He felt pain rip through his body. The sounds he’d heard faded and his vision blurred. His partner wasn’t the only officer down.
    Oh Shit! I’ve been hit.
     
    Six Weeks Later
    Basia stood at the entrance of his bedroom door. She leaned against the door with a coffee in each hand. Riley could see her reflection in the mirror as he tucked his shirt into his jeans. He stopped and said nothing. The sight of her made his pulse react; the pulse, inside his jeans. He felt the material tighten and hesitated on the thought of his return to work. It had been six weeks since he’d been shot. His physical recovery moved along quickly, but his emotional recovery worried the police psychologist, or so he was told. Steve Mason had been Riley’s first and only partner the past ten