Chapters (48)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Acknowledgments
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Also by Allison Brennan
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“Is she staying with us?” She hoped she didn’t sound pissy at the prospect that Max would be at the house for a few days. She wasn’t a fan of houseguests in general, unless they were family, but with Max, Lucy would have to be constantly on her toes. The reporter was smart, shrewd, and far too inquisitive. She would pick up on subtleties if Lucy let her guard down for one minute, and frankly, it was exhausting. Home was the one place Lucy could relax.
“No, she’s staying at the Sun Towers. Has a penthouse suite, but I didn’t offer. I like Max, but I wouldn’t want her living here for a week.”
“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s just been a long day.”
“I can cancel, meet her in the morning for an early breakfast.”
“No, I’m fine. Really. If I wasn’t, I’d tell you.”
Lucy said good-bye and hung up.
“The reporter,” Nate said flatly.
“She’s not like other reporters. I like her. Maybe not as much as Sean and Dillon do, but she’s really sharp.”
He grunted, sounding like her brother Jack.
As Nate turned onto the freeway, Lucy glanced down the street. A dark sedan, no front plate, did a U-turn right behind them. She couldn’t read the rear plate as it sped off.
“What?” Nate asked.
“We were being followed. I knew it.”
“Want me to turn around?” But as soon as he said it he shook his head. “They’ll be gone by the time I turn around. Did you get plates?”
“Dark American sedan, no front plates, I couldn’t read the rear plates. Tinted windows. I only saw one person in the car. My sense was ‘male,’ but I didn’t get a good look before he did a one-eighty.”
“Someone is keeping tabs on our investigation,” Nate said. “My money? The detectives.”
“But they can just ask.”
Nate didn’t say anything. Lucy feared he was right, and she didn’t like the idea that they couldn’t trust the local cops.
And if they were tracking Nate and Lucy, why? Did they know they screwed up? Were they trying to fix it … or trying to thwart the FBI? And if so, why?
Or it might not be the detectives at all. It could be someone else tracking the case to find out when and if they found Ricky Albright’s body. When and if they found clues to the killer.
Lucy sent Ash a text message, then said to Nate, “I’m making sure Ash doesn’t go anywhere without backup. I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re going to find out.”