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Back Vortex Save as PDF
Chapters (61)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. Epilogue
  57. Epilogue
  58. Acknowledgments
  59. About the Author
  60. Also by Catherine Coulter
  61. About the Publisher

An older man with white hair in tufts spiked up around his head appeared in the doorway. He studied them briefly. “I’m Dr. Morgan, one of the surgeons. I was asked to give you an update. Kent Harper is still in surgery, will be for at least another two to three hours. We’re having trouble keeping up with the rate of his blood loss. I suggest if you haven’t contacted his family, you do it quickly.”

They were silent after the surgeon left. Mia didn’t say it out loud, but she knew if Kent Harper died, there might very well be no case, and that was why Alex had his lifelong friend shot.

Juliet said, “I don’t want him to die. I want him in prison. Sherlock, shouldn’t we go see Alex, see what he has to say about this?”

Sherlock shook her head. “I’m sorry, but the FBI can’t be involved.”

Juliet cursed under her breath, and only Tommy heard her. He smiled.

45

Olivia

Abandoned Boathouse on the Potomac

Near Galesburg, Maryland

Olivia studied Claude, considered trying to take him. He was a man you’d pass on the street and never notice—medium height, slender, brown hair and eyes, unremarkable in every way, except for his eyes. She saw a dark pit behind his eyes, and oddly, a look of pleasure. Was it at the thought of killing her? And he wasn’t stupid. He kept his distance, his Beretta aimed at her chest, not her legs. She said, “Are your parents French?”

He eyed her a moment, as if wondering if she had a hidden meaning. Finally, he nodded. “My father, yes.”

“You were raised in Indiana. I doubt your parents wanted you to be a criminal. Do you kill people?”

He smiled. Like René, his teeth were yellowed from smoking. He shrugged, said only, “My parents are dead, past caring what I am or what I am not. Yes, I kill when necessary. As do you. You killed Razhan, a man at the top of his profession. Rock-hard, deadly. If I had a beer, I’d toast you.”

She raised her chin. “Well, he’s not deadly any longer, is he? He’s just dead. Who hired you to come to my house?”

“You tempt me to shoot you in the mouth, just to shut you up. I wonder if René has killed Mike Kingman yet? He will, you know, he wants to, hates the guy’s guts.”

“Why? He doesn’t even know Mike.”

“René hates to be thwarted. He hates to think anyone is smarter than he is, even if only for a little while, even if, in the end, he wins. He told me once he liked killing a worthy opponent more than he liked having sex. I imagine he’s facing this Kingman down right this minute, getting that flash drive.”

Mike