Page 45 of Look for Me

Somewhere on the boat between the night sky and certain death, Corinne woke up to the smell of fuel and noisy engine. She found her hands tied behind her. She rolled over and tried to sit up.

Someone helped her up.

It was the same woman. Must be Corinne’s new handler.

Another handler.

In the last four years she had somehow found herself in the position of requiring handlers. First, it was a bodyguard—or so Flavian had called him—who followed her everywhere she went. That first FBI handler lasted for one year, until he was reassigned.

Then Corinne was passed on to her second FBI handler. After handing the bag of diamonds to her and telling her about the assault, Corinne found her reprieve and retired from answering to anyone but God. She was happy that the FBI let her go. The US Marshals met her at an undisclosed location, and whisked her away across the country to a new place, a new identity, and a new life for her and her daughter.

Key Largo had been a hiding place for her.

Until now.

Only God can help me now.

The boat docked in the dark of night.

The woman with no name helped Corinne out of the boat. A small van came to get them.

Corinne felt carsick. She closed her eyes. Felt like throwing up.

Somehow the minutes passed, and the van dropped them off in some building that Corinne could not see.

The hallway was dark. Grime everywhere. Like it was part of a workshop or at the back of a building. Or someplace like that.

Corinne coughed softly at the dust.

The woman didn’t say a word.

She tightened her grip on Corinne’s arm as she helped her take the short steps up to another door, heavily guarded this time by armed men.

Pushing Corinne in, the woman followed with a serrated blade.

Corinne gasped.

“Turn around,” the woman ordered.

Corinne had no choice. She was facing a stark white wall. There was a steel single bed pushed up against the wall. Nothing else in the room. No table. No chair.

But then she felt her wrists go free. She massaged her wrists. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” The woman’s eyebrows rose. “You’re thanking me?”

Corinne didn’t know how to respond, except to ask for her name.

“You can call me your executioner.” She laughed. “We’re not friends. You took my man. You took my future. I will take your life.”

“What life did I have with Flavian?” Corinne had no idea who this woman was.

Miss Executioner didn’t answer. She marched out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Corinne heard the key turn on the other side.

Executioner.

Stunned, Corinne’s knees went weak.

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