Page 32 of The Saint

The line of waiting customers groaned.

“Come on, asshole,” someone said from behind Camden. “Get a fucking grip. They don’t have what you want.”

The man in front of Camden turned to face off against the line. “If I don’t have the bagels when I walk into my office, I’m gonna get fired. So, fuck you, and give me a minute while I get this straightened out.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Camden muttered under his breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering why he hated Washington, DC, and most everyone inside its city limits. The majority of the area’s residents were fine. But that special breed of jackass drawn to politics and power grated on his senses.

Another cashier, looking forewarned and fully capable of handling customers who caused headaches, took the place of the first. Her gaze skipped straight to Camden. “Can I help whoever’s next?”

He sidestepped the jackass holding up the line. “I’ll take a number two.”

“You can’t cut in front of me, asshole.”

“A number two,” Camden repeated. “On an everything bagel.”

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break. That’s my everything bagel.”

The corners of his lips quirked. He normally would’ve ordered an Asiago bagel.Not today.“Don’t think it is.”

“Anything else?” the cashier asked.

“Large coffee. Black.”

Camden casually tapped his credit card on the reader and gave the cashier a nice tip and a commiserating grimace when she returned with the steaming hot cup.

“Next?” the cashier called, still ignoring the man huffing about his VIP order of everything bagels.

He stepped around the man and moved to the far counter to wait for his order. A muted television showed the local news. The meteorologist pointed at a map of falling temperatures as fall turned into winter. DC was pretty that time of year. That was about the only thing the place had going for it.

He checked the time and glanced at the line again, where the man was still ranting about the very important people on the Hill. The line of customers progressed without him. Camden might have been wrong, but he was pretty sure he’d started a trend. The next several orders included at least one everything bagel.

In record time, his order was called. The waxy paper bag crinkled in his hand. He grabbed a handful of napkins and caught sight of the television screen again. The mugshot of a woman about his age was above a chyron that read Arlington Double Murder Suspect Arrested. A prickle of unease slid down his spine. “Hey.” Camden gestured toward the television. “Would you mind turning that up?”

The woman bagging orders glanced over her shoulder. Another person shrugged and unmuted the local broadcast.

“Thanks.”

But the news anchor had pivoted to another story. The screen flashed to a brightly smiling reporter who stood in front of a building with its front door wrapped in a brilliant red bow. The closed-captioning scrolled across the bottom of the screen, announcing the ribbon cutting for a recently completed renovation of a community center.

“You can mute it again. Thanks.” Camden took a seat, pulled out his phone, and searched the internet for an arrest in a double murder in Arlington, Virginia.

It didn’t take long. Amelia Stone had been charged with two counts of murder. There weren’t many details. Her mug shot landed like a gut punch thrown by a missile launcher. Amelia Stone’s delicate features were distorted by red-rimmed, puffy eyes partially framed by a half moon of dark circles. Her raven hair hung limply behind her back. He couldn’t stop staring at the woman he’d spoken to—at the woman he had helped and knewto be innocent—but he finally tore himself away from the mug shot and searched for additional information.

He didn’t get much beyond the repetitive facts regurgitated by local news. But that was because the charges were bullshit.Fuck.Beth had said everything would get worse before it got better. Had she known this was about to happen? His heart hammered. Why were they setting up Amelia? They had to have a hundred and one ways to accomplish their goal without ruining the woman’s life.

Beth owed him answers. He swiped the news coverage away and called her. Each passing ring fanned his irritation. Finally, she answered. He couldn’t tell if she’d been waiting for his call.

“You better fix this,” Camden barked, “and it better happen now.”

“I don’t take orders from you, buddy.”

Camden grabbed his breakfast and coffee in one hand and stormed back toward the metro. He wasn’t heading to New Jersey anymore. Where to would be determined. But for the moment, he was hellbent on retracing his steps to go somewhere else—to Titan or to Beth. He didn’t fuckin’ know, but he was on his way. “Call your boss. Call the agents.Call someone. Fix it now.”

“Or what? You’re going to yell at me some more? This isn’t my call. She isn’t my case. I told you the situation would get worse—”

“Before it got better. Got it. That’s what you said. So make it better.”

“I can’t.”

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