Over the next three days, as if by silent agreement, they fell into a routine. They continued to show up at the same time at the range and spend an hour on target practice, exchanging little in the way of conversation. His purpose here—or so he kept telling himself—was to sharpen his proficiency with the Glock so if push came to shove, he could at least make a half-assed attempt to defend himself. He'd never be as good as Casey. He stopped often to watch her. Admire her.

Trey had to ...