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So forceful was the aerosol that the pepper spray ricocheted off the man’s face and directly into Sloan’s eyes. The man went down in a heap, moaning as he clawed at his eyes. It took just a fraction of a second for Sloan to feel the burn in her own eyes. She dropped the can and also fell to her knees. Just before her eyelids spasmed closed, she saw what the man had removed from his breast pocket. It had fallen onto the ground in front of her apartment door. It wasn’t a gun or a knife, as she had imagined. It was a police badge.
CHAPTER 14
Raleigh, North Carolina Friday, July 19, 2024
ALTHOUGH THE MAN HAD CLEARLY TAKEN THE BRUNT OF THE PEPPER spray, he came to Sloan’s aid after the ricocheting mist sealed her eyes shut. He helped her into her apartment and turned on the shower. Sloan held her face under a stream of cold water. The man went to the sink while they both groaned and coughed.
“Here,” Sloan said after a few minutes. “Switch. The sink is too small for you. I think I’m good. Or at least better.”
The man happily traded spots and thrust his face under the showerhead, using his fingers to peel his eyelids open. It took thirty minutes before either was able to open their eyes, another thirty before their noses stopped running. Now, an hour after Sloan had pulled the trigger on the pepper spray, she and the man sat at her kitchen table with blood-red eyes, raw cheeks, and sore throats.
The man held a plastic bag filled with ice over his right eye.
“I had no idea you were a police officer,” Sloan said. “I’m really sorry. I thought someone was following me.”
When the man did not answer, Sloan felt the need to explain.
“I saw this truck with Nevada plates . . .” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m really sorry. I’m an idiot.”
“No,” the man said. “I’m the idiot. I should have shown my badge right away. Hell, I shouldn’t have followed you in the first place. It’s my Toyota.”
Sloan narrowed her swollen lids.
The man nodded. “I knew you were onto me when you pulled your little NASCAR trick on the highway. I needed to speak with you, so I figured I’d wait at your apartment, but before I had the chance to explain who I was, well . . . like I said, I’m an idiot. Really stupid to follow a woman and then wait for her outside her apartment. Trust me, I got what I deserved. I’m just sorry you got a little bit of it, too.”
Sloan smiled. “The instructions don’t mention ricochets.”
They both shared a laugh.
“What the hell was that? Bear spray?”
“Nope. Just regular old Mace. I bought it online. I guess it works, besides the back-at-you part.”
“I’m a walking testimonial. We had to get pepper sprayed during police training and I don’t remember it being this bad.”
“I’m pretty sure I hit you directly in the eye.”
“Yep, bull’s-eye.”
The man’s other eye was a warm caramel brown that matched his dark hair and tanned skin. He had an athletic build, and it wasn’t hard to imagine him as a police officer.
Sloan lifted the man’s badge.
“Okay, Sheriff Stamos,” she said, reading his name from his ID. “Why were you following me?”
She slid the ID and badge across the table.
“You dropped them when I . . . anyway, I grabbed them when you were rinsing your eyes.”
“Thanks.” He took the badge and hooked it onto his belt, then slipped his ID into his breast pocket. “Eric Stamos. I’m the sheriff of a small town in Nevada called—”
“Cedar Creek,” Sloan said, finishing his sentence.
“Correct.”
“So this is about my online DNA search.”
Eric removed the bag of ice from his eye. “I don’t know anything about an online DNA search. I only know that the FBI showed up to my office a few days ago asking about a cold case involving a family that went missing from Cedar Creek almost thirty years ago. A couple and their daughter. The feds wanted any and all information my department had on the old case because there had been a break in the investigation. They said that the girl, who was an infant at the time of the disappearance, had resurfaced in North Carolina and was going by the name of Sloan Hastings.”
