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Back The Newcomer Save as PDF
Chapters (71)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. Epilogue
  68. Acknowledgments
  69. Also by Mary Kay Andrews
  70. About the Author
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

“God,” Letty groaned. “What if she doesn’t want to talk? She does that sometimes, when she’s upset. Tanya told me that during the first few sessions she had with the therapist in New York, Maya would just shut down. She’d sit in the corner with her eyes closed and her hands over her ears.”

“If she doesn’t want to talk, we absolutely won’t make her. How about this? I’ll run down to McDonald’s, pick up her breakfast, and head back here. Then, Shauna and I can talk to her, and if she’s okay, we’ll videotape it. You’d be there too, of course. Nobody does anything without you saying it’s okay.”

50

VIKKI PARKED THE RENTAL AT the curb in front of the Tampa Airport’s departure door. She closed her eyes and was about to nod off when she heard a metallic tapping on the passenger-side window. She rolled it down and the cop leaned in. “Ma’am? This is a loading zone only. Need you to move along.”

She reached under the front seat and brought out the leather badge holder, flashing it at the cop. “I’m here on police business.”

The woman reached for the badge, examined it, then pursed her lips. “For real? FBI? We didn’t get word of any kind of an undercover operation here today.”

“I’m just picking up a suspect and taking him to St. Pete,” Vikki assured her. “But if you don’t mind, I need to stay here and wait for my passenger.”

The cop shook her head. “Would have been nice if somebody had bothered to give us a heads-up.” She muttered something else under her breath, then walked away.

Vikki yawned. Over the past forty-eight hours she’d gotten almost no sleep. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, realizing too late that she’d smeared her mascara. She pulled down the visor and examined her face in the mirror. Puffy, red-rimmed eyes, blotchy skin, sunburned nose. She found a tissue in her purse and tried to repair the damage. She looked like shit. Maybe she’d put in for a couple of vacation days when this was all over. Just find a lounge chair by a pool somewhere, sip some umbrella drinks, and chill.

A black limo pulled up to the curb behind her rental. She twisted in her seat to get a better look and the leather holster clipped inside the waistline of her slacks chafed at the tender skin there.

Vikki had been forced to pull rank on DeCurtis, who hadn’t wanted to return the Glock that Declan Rooney had stolen from her room the night before. But she’d pointed out that the gun hadn’t been fired. He’d reluctantly returned her property.