Page 66 of Cast in Shadow
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Fine. I need you to run some financial forensics on a guy named Shelton MacNamarra.”
Aggie nodded, grateful for a distraction. It was time she got out of her own head and got back to work. She’d been dragging her feet in picking her next target, knowing that once she did, she’d be gone for months.
“Okay. Am I looking for anything specific?”
“Deposits made from foreign countries, particularly the Middle East and eastern Africa.”
“Sure. I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Chapter Thirty
Zeke
The bell tinkled over the door at the front of the shop.
Zeke looked up at the old-fashioned analog clock hanging on the wall and cursed. It was well past closing time, which meant Betsy or Becky or whatever the fuck her name was must have forgotten to lock the door. Again.
She was cute, but she wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. She also wasn’t going to last the week.
With a sigh, he put down his pencil and turned away from the backpiece he had been designing. It was a custom image, one that would never make it onto anyone’s skin because it had been created for one woman, a woman he would never see again.
It had been weeks since he’d walked away. Not an hour went by without him thinking of her. The most he managed was a few minutes here and there.
He kept telling himself that it was for the best. That there was no future with a woman who had more secrets than he did, a woman who didn’t trust him enough to share anything with him.
She shared her body with you, a little voice said.
It hadn’t been enough. He wanted more.
Zeke stepped out of the back and looked around, ready to tell whoever it was that they were closed and to come back another time. But there was no one there.
He shrugged, locked the door, and headed to the tiny room in the back, the one where he’d been crashing the past week.
The tingle of warning came too late. A sharp jab in the side of his neck was followed immediately by a black hood being pulled over his head. His struggles were in vain. He got his hand briefly around one thick neck but was out before he hit the ground.
* * *
When Zeke came to, it was to find himself strapped in a helicopter. The black hood was still over his head, but he could hear the muffled sound of the rotors through the earphones that had been placed around his ears and feel the synchronous pulsing vibrations through the seat.
He tested his hands—bound. His feet—also bound.
He didn’t know who had him or why, only that he was going to cause them a world of hurt when he found out.
They remained airborne for about an hour, according to his internal clock. As he regained more of his faculties, he had vague, hazy recollections of being moved from a vehicle, onto a plane, and now, a chopper. Whoever it was, they were going to a lot of effort to get him somewhere.
Within moments of landing, his earphones were removed, as was his hood, and Zeke found himself glaring into the blurry face of Sean Callaghan.
“Oh, he doesn’t look happy,” said another voice cheerily.
Zeke blinked, certain he was seeing double because there were now two Sean Callaghans peering at him.
“What the actual fuck is going on?” he managed. His mouth was dry, his tongue thick.
