Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
“No one’s going to die,” Taggart replied. “And Anya will get a discount on future manicures if that’s hers in the first place. I don’t know. I don’t like her Ukrainian mob connections. It feels awfully convenient.”
Steph straightened up, her eyes narrowing on Taggart. “It wasn’t convenient for me. And I don’t have a thumb drive. I don’t know what they’re talking about. I didn’t go through the reporter’s things. The situation was urgent. We cut his shirt off and cut off the khakis he was wearing. We would have thrown them out as medical waste. They were covered in blood. I never saw any piece of luggage he was carrying. No backpack. No wallet.”
A nasty theory was playing through Brody’s head. There was something convenient about all of this, but it didn’t have anything to do with Anya and her mob connections. He didn’t want it to be true, but it was far too important to put his head in the sand and pretend. Besides, his loyalty had shifted somewhere along the way. “Remind me of something, luv. Was Alfi ever alone with the journalist?”
Steph turned his way. “Yes, but he wasn’t conscious. Alfi said he never woke up.”
Yes, but Alfi had been known to lie.
“Fucker,” Taggart spat, obviously picking up on Brody’s thought process. He pulled his mobile. “Shane, I need you to take Declan and haul ass over to the safe house. Bring me the Aussie asshole. No. Not that one. He’s one of ours. The other Aussie asshole. Yeah. You don’t have to be tender with him either.”
So he’d been a big hit with the bodyguards. Well, he’d been called worse.
“Why would Alfi lie to me?” Steph asked, finally stepping close to him. Her chin tilted up and for the first time since they’d walked into the room he saw some vulnerability in her eyes.
For a hundred reasons, but he could only think of the one that might make sense to her. He smoothed back her hair, desperate for a physical connection. “If he thought he could make money off that thumb drive, he would do it in a heartbeat, the bastard. He would take the drive and get the hell out of there until he could figure out what he had.”
“But he wasn’t at the house when I left,” Tucker said. “He said he needed to go buy a six-pack.”
“So he walked to the store?” Brody asked the question, though he was afraid he knew the damn answer. He should never have left Tucker alone with Alfi. He should have known Alfi had come here with nefarious purposes, and leaving Tucker behind to watch him had been like leaving a child in charge of the house.
Tucker’s cheeks had gone a nice shade of red. “He promised to grab me a couple of bags of chips if I let him borrow the car. I was super hungry. I ate supper at like five. I need to eat every couple of hours or I get low blood sugar.”
“Then why the bloody hell didn’t you go with him?” Brody was ready to throttle the kid.
Tucker winced. “Because American Ninja Warrior was on and I don’t know how to work the DVR.”
O’Donnell stepped in between the two of them. “Now, Carter, take a deep breath. If we murder our young we’re no better than animals.”
“Also, Charlie had the carpet cleaned in here a few days ago.” Taggart was back on his phone. “Adam, I need you to find an escaped Aussie. Yeah, the one from your place earlier this afternoon. He’s in Carter’s rental. Check the traffic cameras around your place.” Pause. “If I knew where he was going, I wouldn’t need you, would I?”
“Why would he come here?” Steph asked. “Unless he’s planning on selling the thumb drive back to the mercenaries. Would he do that? If he does, what happens to Anya? He’s probably on his way there right now. If they get that thumb drive, they won’t have any use for her anymore. They won’t want to keep her around.”
“Or she’s been involved the whole time,” Taggart said, hanging up his phone.
“She’s not,” Steph shot back. “Anya’s innocent in all this.”
“You can’t know that.” Taggart was looking down at his phone, texting away.
“Of course I can know it. I can use my brain and logic this sucker out.” Steph moved away from him again. “Why would she be involved with a bunch of mercenaries? What does she get out of it? She just happened to get a nursing degree so she could spend a year in Africa waiting to set me up because she knew a journalist would someday get himself shot and stumble into my clinic? And she knew that Alfi would steal the thumb drive and she could be used to get it back. She’s a fucking psychic, Taggart. You should put her on the payroll because she could solve all your cases for you.”