Page 17 of Run for Her Life
“Good. You will receive the payment in twenty-four hours. You are needed in Philly for the next job.”
The woman wasn’t supposed to ask questions. She never bothered to. But this time the words tumbled out of her mouth. “He was only a kid. What did you want with him?”
Silence. A deafening silence before the man spoke again. “Do not make the mistake of asking questions. Consider this your final warning. Is that clear?”
Her chest squeezed. There were very few people she feared—and he was one of them. “Y-yes.”
“Good. Now prepare for Philly. You’ll receive instructions with your payment.”
“Understood.” She felt weighed down by the memory of the gangly boy and the thrill in his clueless eyes as she walked him to his death.
The realization crystallized inside her with pristine clarity. Without a flicker of doubt, the decision had been made.
It was time for her to quit.
ELEVEN
“The hair doesn’t belong to Annabelle,” Zoe said, chewing her nail as she paced back and forth in the parking lot.
Aiden emptied his guts in a corner, retching loudly. “Get away from me, Storm.”
“And miss this chance of making you uncomfortable? Never,” she quipped although her focus was elsewhere.
“It’s not that. I think I ate something bad last night.” He winced, taking a deep breath. “Shouldn’t have had those burgers.”
Zoe suddenly became aware of his body, in particular how sculpted his shoulders were, capping a broad back that trimmed into a slim waist. Right now, he looked like the sort of person who would strip and face her in that underground ring she was addicted to, rather than the bookish type she had him down as.
He clearly spent a lot of time perfecting his body. Her mind wandered as she imagined him working out.
“You’re staring, Storm.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his mouth, a blush creeping up his cheeks.
She wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She cleared her throat and redirected the conversation.
“The hair isn’t Annabelle’s. Then why send it to us? Do you think it’s the killer’s?”
“Sent toyou. Not to us. Toyou.You need to look at your old cases.”
“My old cases?”
“Someone you put away or someone you pissed. This is a challenge foryounot just the FBI.”
“Yeah, it’s obvious. Don’t need a doctorate to figure that out.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she bit her tongue. She didn’t know where the flash of irritation came from. This wasn’t like her. She strived to be that ray of sunshine, stubbornly refusing to become too bogged down by the horrors she saw every day. Her unyielding niceness wasn’t some moral high ground but a lifeboat. Yet, clinging to the light was treading a thin line—one slight nudge would be all it took to slip into the abyss that lay on either side.
“I can look into any old cases that you worked on.” Aiden avoided her eyes. “It should be someone who wasn’t involved.”
She opened her mouth to say something,anything, but he walked past her to the car. A part of her wondered if Aiden truly wanted to help with the case, or was he using this to dig into her past to solve the mystery of the attack on her? As she headed back to the car, a blast of wind blew past her, making the shrubbery surrounding her rustle. She whirled at the sound, her eyes frantically looking for the source of the sound. A caustic feeling rose inside her, bleeding the colors from her surroundings. Someone was after her.
“I didn’t expect a house like this in Pineview Falls,” Zoe commented, standing in front of a tall house that was a mix of white stone and dark wood accents and guarded by wrought-iron gates. The driveway was a smooth ribbon of dark stone,curving up to the front entrance flanked by two columns. A balcony jutted out above the entrance from the second floor. The front lawn was beautifully landscaped, with manicured hedges and sculpted topiaries.
“They moved here around twenty years ago. I was only a volunteer at the sheriff’s office back then,” Lisa told her, adjusting her belt buckle.
“So you know the family well?”
Lisa didn’t look at her. “It’s a small town, Agent Storm.” She pressed the bell on the wall and a security camera tilted in their direction. When Lisa announced herself, the gates unlocked and opened slowly.
“This isn’t creepy at all,” Zoe muttered but Lisa didn’t respond and stared straight ahead. Zoe watched her from the corner of her eye as they walked up the driveway. The air between them was thick with simmering tension. Lisa was guarded, only talking when spoken to, her tone curt and impersonal. “Sheriff, I want to apologize.”
