“If you can’t handle this with all you have going on, I’ll give it to Ward.”
“Ward’s a twat. He’s trigger-happy.”
“Ward’s focused.”
“Come off it. I’m fine.”
“You better be. I swear to God, Grady.”
“Don’t worry about where I get my dick wet, and I’ll extend you the same courtesy.”
He nods. “And no more of your extracurricular activities, either. No more fucking bodies, I mean it!”
I put my hands up. “Those days are behind me, boss. I swear.”
“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he grumbles, flicking his hand at me. “Take the file with you.”
“You wish that were true,” I toss over my shoulder as I head toward the door.
Once I’m in the car, I order the driver to take me straight home. I have work to do before I can have any fun with my deadly girl that escaped me.
I fidget the entire way home, rushing into the cabin to check my camera feeds.
All intact.
The Feds ransacked the place, but the hard drive is intact, and they didn’t breach my firewall.
Logging into Greer’s cameras, I don’t see her in any room in her house. Nor is she in Allison’s house.
I hate to admit that I can’t fucking think straight because I don’t know where she is.
Opening my safe, I tug out all the devices I’d taken from her: her iPhone, an e-reader, and an AirTag I found hidden among her bag, probably her insurance that Allison would be able to see her in the event I escalated.
Too bad for them, my safe is inside a Faraday cage.
I told Helms I was fine, that I was in complete control, but the more I search for Greer on feeds all over town, the more manic I feel.
Until I have eyes on my pretty poison, I’m not going to be able to get anything else done.
Snatching her things off my desk, I drop them onto the kitchen counter.
I shower, dress quickly, and head out, truck keys in one hand, my only means of contacting her in the other.
23
Greer
Iwas told I was free to go earlier. I don’t know why or what new development there was in Koen’s case against him, but for my own sake, I listened and left.
Allison sits across from me at the steakhouse we chose to go to after leaving the police station, sipping her wine.
I’m on my second glass, and know I’ll be taking an Uber home to avoid riding with her while she’s drinking.
I never drink away from the house, but with everything going on around me, it was well deserved.
“That was the strangest interrogation I’ve ever been a part of,” Allison finally says.
The server approaches the table, setting down bread before refilling our wine glasses.
