Chapter 1 - The Man Delia Chose Wasn’t Supposed to Be a CopDelia Voss stood beneath a broken streetlight on the edge of Omaha with both hands wrapped around a stomach that did not belong to her.
From twenty feet away, no one could tell.
The oversized gray coat concealed the straps.
A carefully shaped cushion created the unmistakable curve of late pregnancy.
And the tears on Delia's face were real enough.
Just not for the reason a stranger would assume.
Headlights appeared.
Delia stepped closer to the road.
"Please!"
The motorcycle slowed.
For half a second, Delia hoped the rider would keep going.
That thought surprised her.
Royce would be watching from somewhere beyond the trees.
If she let another driver pass, he would make her explain.
The motorcycle stopped.
The rider removed his helmet.
Early thirties.
Broad shoulders.
Dark work jacket.
Tired eyes.
He glanced at his watch before looking at her.
Clearly late.
"You okay?"
Delia pressed one hand against the fake belly.
"I'm going into labor."
His expression changed immediately.
"Do you need an ambulance?"
"No."
She shook her head quickly.
"My family is just up ahead. They have a car."
"I can call—"
"Please."
She made her voice break.
"I don't want to be alone."
The man studied her.
Delia had done this nine times.
She knew the moment.
The calculation.
Danger versus conscience.
Most people drove away.
The ones who stopped were usually the kind Royce called easy.
Good people.
People who believed helping someone in trouble was worth a little inconvenience.
The rider looked at his watch again.
Then sighed.
"All right."
Delia climbed behind him.
She told him to turn onto a narrower service road bordered by empty lots and winter-bare trees.
Two minutes later, she tapped his shoulder.
"Here."
He slowed.
The road ahead was dark.
No houses.
No waiting family.
The rider looked over his shoulder.
"Where are they?"
Four men stepped from the shadows.
Wade.
Micah.
Leon.
And Royce Danner.
Royce smiled.
Delia climbed off the motorcycle.
Her tears stopped.
So did her trembling.
She straightened her back.
The rider looked at her.
Not confused.
Not yet afraid.
That bothered Royce immediately.
Delia unfastened the straps beneath her coat.
The fake stomach dropped onto the pavement.
She kicked it aside.
"Keys."
The rider looked at her.
Delia held out her hand.
"Wallet. Phone."
Royce stepped closer.
"You heard her."
The rider remained seated.
"That's disappointing."
Royce frowned.
"What?"
"I was actually trying to help her."
Micah laughed.
"Then congratulations. You're a nice guy."
Royce pointed.
"Get off the bike."
The rider slowly removed one glove.
Then the other.
Delia watched his face.
No panic.
Most victims began bargaining by now.
Money.
Take the money.
Please don't hurt me.
I have kids.
This man looked annoyed.
He reached inside his jacket.
Wade stepped forward.
"Slow."
The rider nodded.
"Good advice."
He pulled out a small wallet.
Delia smiled again.
Until he opened it.
A gold-and-blue badge caught the weak light.
For one second, nobody moved.
Delia's smile disappeared.
The rider looked directly at Royce.
"Nash Mercer."
He flipped the wallet slightly.
"Omaha Police."
Leon whispered:
"Oh, hell."
Royce stared at the badge as though refusing to understand what he was seeing.
Nash put the wallet away.
"I'm on my way to shift."
Wade immediately looked at his watch.
Then at Nash.
"What time?"
Nash gave him a faint smile.
"You really want to start asking a cop about his schedule?"
Wade went pale.
Micah looked down the road behind Nash.
Empty.
For now.
Royce tried to recover.
"So what?"
His voice sounded less certain.
Nash didn't answer immediately.
He looked at each face.
Then at Delia.
Finally:
"So somebody expects me."
That was all.
But it changed the road.
Until that moment, Royce's crew controlled time.
They decided when the victim stopped.
How long the robbery lasted.
When everyone left.
Now no one knew how much time remained.
Five minutes?
Ten?
Had Nash already radioed someone?
Had his department noticed he was late?
Did his motorcycle have tracking?
Nobody knew.
Leon took one step backward.
Royce noticed.
"Don't."
Leon froze.
Nash remained perfectly still.
Delia's pulse hammered.
She had seen Royce violent.
Seen him angry.
Seen him punish people who lost money.
But she had never seen him uncertain.
Nash looked at Delia.
"You can still walk away from this differently than you walked into it."
Royce laughed.
"Don't talk to her."
Nash shifted his eyes back to him.
"I wasn't."
That confused everyone.
Then Delia understood.
He hadn't been speaking only to her.
He was telling all of them.
The next decision mattered.
Wade looked down the road again.
"Royce."
"Shut up."
"What if he's telling the truth?"
"He is telling the truth."
Leon pointed at Nash.
"He's got a badge."
Royce stepped closer to Nash.
"Badges don't make people bulletproof."
Nash's expression didn't change.
"No."
He looked at Royce's hand.
Then his face.
"But missed roll call gets noticed."
Silence.
Delia heard something far away.
Maybe traffic.
Maybe nothing.
Then Micah whispered:
"I hear a car."
Royce spun toward the road.
No headlights yet.
But fear had already entered the group.
And fear did something Royce's threats never could.
It made everyone start thinking for themselves.
Wade backed away.
Leon followed.
Royce cursed.
"Nobody moves."
Nash watched.
Delia did too.
Then she saw Royce reach inside his coat.
Her blood went cold.
"Royce."
He ignored her.
Nash's voice stayed calm.
"Don't make the next thirty seconds worse than the last five minutes."
Royce stared at him.
Then headlights appeared around the distant curve.
White.
Fast.
Coming toward them.
Leon ran.
Wade broke in the opposite direction.
Micah swore and followed.
Royce looked at Delia.
For one horrifying moment, she realized he was deciding whether to leave her behind.
Then he grabbed her wrist.
"Move."
Delia pulled away.
"No."
Royce stared.
It was the first time she'd ever said that word to him.
Nash saw the shock on his face.
The headlights grew brighter.
Royce released Delia and ran into the darkness.
She didn't follow.
Instead, she slowly raised both hands.
Nash looked at her.
"On your knees."
Delia obeyed.
The approaching vehicle finally turned the corner.
It wasn't a police cruiser.
It was an ordinary pickup truck.
The driver slowed when he saw them.
Then kept going.
Delia stared after it.
No police.
No backup.
Nothing.
She looked at Nash.
He had bluffed.
Or maybe he hadn't.
She couldn't tell.
Then a distant siren cut through the night.
This time, Nash smiled.
Very slightly.
"My sergeant hates it when I'm late."
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And Delia realized Royce had made the one mistake none of them could undo.
He had chosen a man whose absence had a clock attached to it.
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