Page 102 of Devil's Due

“What the fuck you mean that doesn’t matter?” I roar, suddenly impatient with all this pussy footing around. “I want to know who he is. I want to speak to him. I want to…”

Devils eyes meet mine. “I can tell you, it was Marshal Handson. But that won’t help you in the least. He’s dead.”

Oh fuck.My heart stops. I can’t voice the question.

My voice breaks. “Stevie?”

“Missing.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Unable to stay still, I stand. My chair topples over, I don’t bother to right it. I pace up and down the side of the table, my hands raking over my head and down my face. Rage bottles up inside me.

“Give him the rest, Devil,” Drum says tersely. “Whatever you know.”

“Accident, murder? And when?” I’m trying to get my head around there’s no one protecting Stevie.

“Yesterday. And I’m pretty sure you’d class a bullet through the forehead as murder,” Devil replies drily. “Crime scene’s been fully investigated. No sign of a struggle, or anyone else being there.”

“So Stevie wasn’t taken at the same time?” Demon asks. “And where was this?”

“Denver,” Devil replies.

“They didn’t take her far enough,” Drummer observes.

“Could have been a staging point.” The suggestion comes from Devil. “But wherever she’s gone, we have to assume they’ve got ways of finding her. Lennox agrees with me. Someone, somewhere in the US Marshals headquarters is plying them with information. Can’t be anything else.”

“What the fuck do I do?” My thoughts voiced aloud.

“Beef.” Wraith’s there beside me. “Man, we’ll find her. We’re working on this.”

My eyes water as I look at him. “If Lennox knows someone’s dirty, presumably they’re looking into it. If the marshals can’t find their own leak, what the fuck is the chance we can?”

“You’re looking at this wrong, Beef.” Devil’s voice remains calm, but not calming. “You’re right. The marshals are looking to clean their house, particularly focused on who’s responsible for the death of one of their own. Our problem is Stevie and finding her.”

“She could be dead,” I state bluntly.

“No sign of a dead body,” the Englishman replies. “Sean’s checked out the morgue and police reports in Denver.”

“Buried out in the desert?” RIP puts in, unhelpfully.

“She’s clever. She could have gone underground herself. Maybe this Handson wasn’t where he was supposed to be, perhaps didn’t turn up to meet her. She could have hidden.”

“Unlikely,” Drummer responds to Demon. “If she was fully sighted, I’d be thinking that way too. But blind?”

She might be blind, but she’s resourceful. But I have to agree with Drummer. It’s not impossible, but not likely. How would she know who to trust, or more to the point, who not to?

“We start looking in Denver,” Wraith suggests.

“If she knew she’d been located, she’d have wanted to get away. Hop onto the first Greyhound I’d think.”

“Good point. We’ll check out the bus terminals.” Devil makes a note on his phone.

“She could be fuckin’ anywhere.”

“Mouse is working with his friends on the deep web. He’s trying to get a trace on her.”

But it will be as hard as finding a needle in a haystack. So far we’ve got that she could be dead and buried somewhere no one will ever find her, or out on her own, anywhere in the US. I don’t like either option.

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