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Back Blood in the Water
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

“That’s the funny thing,” he’d said. “It’s tough to tell when information is accurate, and when it’s not.”

“That’s supposed to be my job.”

“You may need to find other employment.” He smiled again.

“Maybe.” She wasn’t going to give up, but she’d needed a new strategy to gain his trust. “So why don’t you tell me exactly what it is you do in your role as the head of the union, and I can figure out how we might be able to work together.”

He’d laughed. It was a warm, inviting sound. “I’m afraid I couldn’t begin to describe my responsibilities in such a short meeting.”

“Perhaps we should have a longer meeting, then.” She was looking directly into his eyes, and she’d felt as though there were two conversations taking place at the same time.

“Perhaps,” he’d said. “Over dinner?”

She’d stood and picked up her briefcase. He’d looked confused, and fumbled a bit as he rose from his chair. She’d put out her hand and he’d shook it.

“It was an enlightening meeting,” she’d said.

“Was it?”

She’d walked to the door and opened it. Just before she’d walked out, she’d turned and faced him. “I like seafood.”

He’d nodded. “I know a place.”

“I look forward to it.”

The dinner had gone well a week later, and she knew not to push him. Not yet. She needed to gain his trust. That trust couldn’t be gained over a dinner. Even after the first time they had sex together, she knew not to push. She lay in bed, listening to his breathing, wondering whether she would have allowed him to seduce her if she didn’t have an ulterior motive. She was attracted to him, there was no denying that. And yet her focus had been so singular from the moment she’d lost her husband and her son that she no longer knew what it was like to truly feel anything other than the rage that kept her warm and drove her forward.

He came to her, as she knew he would. As she knew he had to. They had been sleeping together for nearly a month when he told her that there were explosives coming in through a dock in East Boston. He had been given his tribute, but he was concerned because the materials were destined for an offshoot of a militia group in New Hampshire. The explosives were sophisticated C4, easily hidden from detection, and not the sort of material used for traditional criminal endeavors.