Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Once on the sidewalk, we took a right, walked a half a mile down the road, and then took a left at the first stoplight. I could see the auto shop as soon as we made the turn.
“He told me to take you around to the back.”
“Okay.”
“And so you know, he promised he had no plans to hurt either you or the woman.”
But those were lies. Hurt, torture, maybe not. Kill, yes. “He who?”
“Lucien Ritter.”
I was an idiot.
If I’d listened to clues, I would have figured it out. The man was a chemistry teacher; he would know how to mix up a batch of C-4. And Cord had said that the chief was starting to vet people to help them with surveillance; he didn’t say there were people already on the job. Lucien had lied to me. If only I’d been listening closer… But Cord had all my attention, as I had his. It was why we were both caught off guard.
Conversely, there were police officers stationed at the house, with Celia and me, at all times. With Cord and I gone, it should have been even easier to guard just one person. I had to wonder how Lucien was able to grab her. And yes, he’d said he was in private security and working with the police in town—if that hadn’t been another lie—but even with inside information, he couldn’t call the officers away from their detail. I really wanted to know how he’d managed to kidnap her, but what was killing me at the moment was Cord.
As I walked away from him, the action felt both stupid and wrong. The only thing that kept me moving was my concern for Celia. I was freezing after just minutes outside, not to mention that trying to calculate how long it would take Cord to realize I wasn’t in bed with him was problematic at best. Hopefully he’d miss me sooner rather than later. But if I was about to be shot in the head, time wasn’t on my side.
When we reached the garage, we went around to the back, and I saw that the door was open. As we got close, Lucien stepped out from the shadows, a gun in his hand.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked immediately.
“I think you know,” he said calmly, then lifted the gun and shot the guy who had brought me there.
The suppressor on his gun had made it quieter, but it was still loud in the quiet space. The blood wasn’t what I imagined—only a small amount leaked from the hole in his forehead as he staggered back and fell to the ground.
“Lucien!” I yelled. I turned to the fallen man but was stopped by both Lucien’s order and the high-pitched scream from inside.
“He’s dead,” he snarled at me. “And the way I shot him, you shouldn’t have gotten anything on you.”
His concern was that I didn’t have any blood on me?
“Who,” I gasped, “is he?”
“No one. He’s nothing.”
I gaped at Lucien, not stunned or surprised, just unsure who he was. This was not the same man I’d spoken to over lunch; he was completely altered in both thought and action. The man I’d met would hurt no one.
“Tracy?” came a cry from inside.
“You better get in there,” Lucien said calmly, the murder weapon trained on me. “I think Celia thinks I killed you.”
“And if I say no?”
“That’s not an option for you,” he replied simply.
Exhaling sharply, I took a good look at him. The man did not look like himself. His pupils were fully dilated, and he was sweating.
“After you,” I said softly.
“Oh no.” He gestured toward the door with the gun—a Glock. I knew that because I’d seen my brother’s and Cord’s. “You first, Tracy.”
He waited silently for me to make my decision, and I began walking.
“How did you get Celia?” I felt bad that Cord hadn’t been there to protect her, even though she’d had an officer with her the entire time.
“I work with the police, Tracy. I just went to the house, told the officer on duty that I was taking over, then woke her up and had her leave with me. No one questioned it.”
“I’m surprised Breckin didn’t come with you.”
He scoffed. “Breckin’s never been the type to inconvenience himself.”
Once I reached the front door of the business and stepped inside, I immediately saw Celia on the other side of the shop bay, standing beside a Volkswagen Bug. I rushed to her and cupped her face in my hands.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, and I saw she’d been crying. I was surprised when she brushed my hands away and lunged at me, grabbing me tight.
“It’s okay,” I promised. “You’re gonna be okay.”
She nodded frantically. “I thought I heard a shot. I thought he killed you.”
“You did hear a shot.”