Page 98 of Deception
“Baby, you’re usually the one putting it somewhere.”
Giving her a cocky grin, he chuckles and gets dressed. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll still be willing.”
“I love you.”
“I know,” she says with a wink. “I love you, too.”
He leaves the apartment and feels guilty for being happy. Today would have been Aaron’s forty-first birthday. If Nina was still alive and not the De-Identifier’s last victim, he’d maybe reach out to her to meet up with Jamie. Show her the woman he found that makes him feel complete in a way he never had with anyone else before. Then they could share stories and tell Jamie all about Aaron. Instead, he has no link left to his best friend and the closest thing to a brother Undertaker has ever had.
“Do you know who the package is from?” Undertaker asks Book as he mops in front of the bar.
“Tim something, I think it said.”
The colonel. “Thanks, man,” he says and walks into the Chapel.
A large box sits on the table, and he sees multiple mailing slips showing how many people it was sent to before reaching him.
“I should probably give someone my home address,” he mutters and opens the box. On the top is a letter in handwriting he doesn’t recognize dated eight months ago.
Dear Francis,
You don’t know me, but my name is Patty. I was roommates with Nina, and I was upset to hear what happened to her. I just returned from overseas, and in the letters Nina sent me, she told me to pack everything she has and send it to you if anything should ever happen to her.
I don’t know what all of this is, but I know she was working on something dangerous. A man she identified as Phillip killed her friend Dina. It really messed Nina up, and she was on a mission to take him down.
As you can imagine, I was worried about her, but there was little I could do from Afghanistan. I told her time and time again that she was playing with fire, but she’d just tell me that no one else was looking into this. If someone didn’t stop him, he never would. I guess he stopped her before she could stop him.
Nina always told me how many times you’d saved her without even knowing it. I have no doubt that if she’d been able to get in touch with you that she’d still be here with us. Everything I’ve put in this box would be in the trash, and she’d be celebrating my return with me.
My address is on this envelope. I’d love to know where she’s buried to pay my respects and say goodbye. I don’t have many friends as it is, which I suspect you understand with our line of work. Many of the friends we depend on don’t make it back home with us. At least, they don’t come back physically.
I hope you can make sense of this. I don’t have anything else to give you better context, so I hope you know what she was doing with it.
Thanks,
Patty
“Phillip?” Undertaker asks, his heart racing as he sees a picture on the top with that name written across it.
Gerard Buchanan gave that name to Colt. The name of the supposed real De-Identifier. And the man in the picture is not Gerard.
Nothing could be found about Phillip, but as Undertaker removes everything from the large box, he finds it difficult to breathe. Nina did a lot of recon on this man. A lot. Picture after picture of blonde women with blue eyes. Just like Nina. Some of them look familiar, and he’s pretty sure she’d been able to identify the victims found in Griffin’s Beach.
Along with the pictures of women, there are pictures of men who all look familiar. He doesn’t know why, but they’re all brown haired with hazel eyes.
“This motherfucker really does like his types,” he says.
The final folder of pictures makes him drop it onto the table as though it just burst into flames and burned him. Pulling out his phone, he fumbles as he frantically calls Colt.
“Hey, man, what’s up?”
“You need to get to the clubhouse. Now.”
“There can’t be another raid—”
“No, it’s… I think we made a mistake, Colt. We need Brock, too.”
