Rickard leaned into the car, groping for the dead cop’s utility belt. He drew the man’s handcuffs from their holder.

Imogen was now on her feet and was taking her first confused steps away from him. Rickard raced after her, caught hold of her neck again and hustled her toward the Suburban.

“We have unfinished business, bitch.”

Chapter 12

12

“Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea,” Bryce Lang said to me from the other side of the sedan. He was driving now, while I scrunched down in my seat with a baseball cap on my head and dark sunglasses hiding my eyes. The weight of the law enforcement community was hunting me. The train stations, airports and harbors around Tampa were all closed down tight, and with roadblocks set up at all intersections in and out of the city they thought it was only a matter of time before they hauled me in. Little did they know we were already beyond the noose, but we weren’t in the clear yet. Bryce followed a winding route via roads that took us through the swamps. “They realize who phoned them, they’ll try to trace your phone.”

“I can always replace it if needs be.”

Bryce’s lips made a tight slash.

“By implicating me in a double murder, and then making it look like I’m a cop killer, the people we’re up against think they’re shutting down the places I can go for help.”

“They’re probably right,” Bryce said.

“They are, but there was nothing else I could do to help Imogen. I had to call the cops. I only hope they got there in time to save her.”

“You still want to go all the way to Maine?”

“Yes. That’s where the killer is.”

“But if we’re too late . . .”

“We are going to be too late. But we might be able to pick up his trail.”

“We should be concentrating on finding Abadia.”

“Abadia’s dead, Bryce. He was cremated, remember?”

“Someone was cremated, that was for sure. But we weren’t in a position to check inside the coffin.”

Glancing across at him, I wondered what he was getting at. An ex-CIA agent-cum-conspiracy theorist; that wasn’t something you came across every day. “Bryce, this is someone else.”

“You’ve seen the photographs, Hunter. Who else would target the team sent to kill him? He’s also making sure that our families die because his girlfriend and child were killed during the hit. The murders were committed in Abadia’s style.”

It was strong evidence, but I was there when Abadia was shot. I was certain that he was dead.

But I should’ve followed protocol and made damn sure.

“Do you have a wife and family?” I asked.

He didn’t reply but his silence said it all.