Page 203 of Broken Bonds
“Is Mal with you?”
“I will explain when you see me.” Morning emphasized repeating, not explaining further.
I watch her sitting in her car, her head swiveling as she looks around. “How do I know you won’t hurt me or kidnap me?”
“Ma’am, if I wanted to hurt you, I’d have put a bullet through your head. As for kidnapping, that would’ve already happened. I’m watching you right now. The last thing I want is to hurt you. I’m here to help you. Please, go home. Do not call or text anyone. Pretend everything’s normal. When you get home, pull into your garage, into the bay closest to the door that opens into the utility room, where the security camera blind spot is, and close the big garage door.”
She looks around again, her voice dropping to a whisper, as if that helps. “Is Mal okay?”
I refuse to let impatience bleed into my tone. “Ma’am, I will answer your questions in person.”
She holds up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three on your left hand. Please, we don’t have a lot of time. I promise you, no one will harm you. I’ll be five minutes behind you.”
Finally, she nods. “Okay. I’ll be alone at home.”
“We know,” I gently say. “That’s the point. We don’t want your husband knowing.”
She freezes. Even at this distance, I watch her swallow hard. “Okay,” she says. She hangs up and, a moment later, she starts the car. The bug in the phone plays a feed into my earpiece. I start the car and wait until she’s pulled out and turned toward home to put the car in drive.
“She’s taking her usual route,” Morning says.
“Good.” I pull out.
She stops at a light up ahead, four cars between us. Still nothing but music playing in her car. I watch her looking around.
My heart breaks for her, that she’s so terrified. If there was a better way, I would’ve strongly advocated for it.
But even Mal agrees this is best.
She makes no stops. I hang back and pull into a parking lot just before the final turn into the development and let the SUV go past me.
“She parked in the garage,” they report a few minutes later. “In the proper spot. Door closed.”
“Good,” Morning says. “Sterling’s still at the office, so with traffic, even if he left in the next five minutes, he’s still at least an hour away. Let’s try to get her out of there in under forty-five. Go ahead, Todd.”
“Roger.”
I feel my gun in the middle of my back, under the windbreaker. When I pull into the driveway, I park back a bit, like someone who doesn’t live there or isn’t familiar with the occupants.
“Hope this works.” I grab the tape measure, brochure, and tablet in a portfolio case.
“If it doesn’t,” Morning says, “the team will move in immediately after you leave. They’ve staged behind the house. We really don’t want to disable the camera system, because that looks suspicious. Her leaving of her own free will is a harder story for Sterling to sell to the cops. I’ll monitor but will avoid speaking. The surveillance team activated the cell jammer when she rolled into the driveway, so if you need help or have questions, say it into the radio.”
“Copy.” Making sure the windbreaker is pulled down in the back before I get out, I smooth the name badge lanyard and put on a salesman’s smile as I approach the front door.
She opens it before I get there, her eyes wide, but I don’t change my expression because I know the doorbell camera’s focused on me. “Hi, Mrs. Sterling? I’m Mike Cannady. We spoke on the phone yesterday about the bathroom renovation estimate.”
She nods, eyes still wide as I reach out and hand her a business card, making sure my name badge and the large tape measure I’m balancing on the closed tablet cover are clearly visible to the doorbell camera. “Y-yes.”
When she flips the card over—well, I didn’t think it’d be possible for her eyes to get wider, but they do.
DEEP INHALE. SNIFF.
I keep talking as she meets my gaze. “I know I said I’d come by tomorrow, but I had a cancellation today and it wasn’t far from here, so I thought I’d take a chance.”
She closes her eyes and takes a long, deep inhale.
