“Good.”At least where it concerns me being a possible target of the man who may have blown up Eddie’s boat, Raquelle told herself. Or some stalker, knowing that there had been several reports of stalking on campus recently. But if Eddie chose to show up at the college for help, she would welcome this.
“Maybe it was nothing,” Vera said, running fingers through her hair.
“Maybe.” Raquelle wasn’t sure she believed that. Nor did Landon seem to think that it was necessarily unrelated to his investigation. Or Eddie’s disappearance.
After she left the office, Raquelle got a call from Landon as she stepped outside for some fresh air.
“Hey,” he said in a spirited tone of voice.
“Hey.” She put the phone closer to her ear.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight—if you didn’t have any other plans.”
“No other plans,” Raquelle freely admitted. “What restaurant?”
“Actually, I’ll be making the meal,” Landon told her.“It will give you a chance to check out my place, assuming that’s okay with you?”
“Yes, I’d like that.” She had been curious about his condominium since he moved to Columbia. “What time?”
“How does six thirty sound?”
“Perfect.”
“Good,” he said. “I’ll text you the address.”
Raquelle smiled. “All right.”
After disconnecting, she headed back to her office before an afternoon class, looking forward to spending more time with her ex.
* * *
HE FOLLOWEDRAQUELLEJERNIGANas she left the college in her Infiniti Q50. Keeping a safe distance, he wondered what she knew about her brother’s activities. Not to mention his whereabouts.
It irked him to think that he’d shot and killed the wrong man instead of his intended target, Eddie Jernigan. The fact that Jernigan had somehow managed to escape death more than once led him to believe that the art dealer’s luck would run out shortly.
And not a moment too soon.
His employer, Ivan Pimentel—and sidekick, Yusef Abercrombie—were none too happy that he hadn’t held up his end of the bargain in ridding Pimentel of a big problem. He’d made it perfectly clear that Jernigan being alive was not an option.
Meaning his own life was on the line as long as Eddie continued to breathe.
But was the snitch actually breathing these days? Had Eddie been blown up in the boat, only to be buried in thelake? It made sense, as this had been the plan all along and should’ve gone without a hitch.
The fact that Eddie had apparently not been seen since was a good sign. But still not the concrete proof he needed that the man was dead.
He had trailed Eddie’s sister to the Catawba Nation reservation, where she undoubtedly went looking for Jernigan—alongside the FBI special agent, Landon Briscoe, her ex-husband, whom Eddie was feeding information.
The two had come away empty-handed. Which told him that Jernigan was nowhere to be found. Maybe that was a good thing. Being unreachable meant that he was keeping his big mouth shut, one way or the other. Assuming he was still around to cause trouble.
He watched as Raquelle Jernigan turned onto Velick Road toward her house. Keeping his distance, he saw her pull into her driveway.
Could she be hiding her brother at the house, in spite of the visit to the reservation?
There was no clear indication of this when he’d surveilled the residence earlier. But what if this were the case?
Then he would need to do what he had to do in his own best interests.
If push came to shove, he might have to take the next big step of planting a bomb inside the house to blow it to bits.
