Pete tilted his head to the side and he sneered. “Did you think you’d finally caught the bad guy? That it was over now? You don’t know shit.”
Adrenaline kicked up his pulse. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not the man in charge. I don’t have the answers you want.”
Graham curled his hands into fists and pounded them on the table. “Then who’s in charge?”
“Did you think it was dumb luck I found Mickey? You should know there are no such things as coincidences.”
Realization hit him like a fist to the gut. Someone else was helping Pete, someone who knew how to find Mickey. Fear washed over him. Someone who was still out there.
Graham pushed up from the table, leaned forward, and grabbed the neck of Pete’s shirt. He pressed his face into Pete’s personal space. “Give me a name. Tell me who it is.”
Pete hung limply in his hand, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The blank look came back into his eyes, and Graham pushed him back in his seat. Panic clawed at him. He needed answers, and fast. He sat back in his chair and took a steadying breath.
“I already told you, it doesn’t matter anymore. He has Paula and he’ll never let her go. She’s my everything.”
As quick as lightning, Pete unclasped his hands and his palm curled around something, its sharp tip barely visible. He slashedit across first one wrist, and then changed hands and slashed the other. Blood oozed onto the table, and a razor blade fell from Pete’s now open palms.
“No! Hector, get your ass in here, now.” He shot to his feet and his chair crashed backward to the floor. The door flew open and Graham yelled, “Get a medic in here. He slit his wrists!”
Pete’s head lolled back, exposing his pale neck. Graham took off his shirt and used the razor blade to slice strips of material. He grabbed Pete’s arm and wrapped one strip above Pete’s wrist where the cut had been made. Grabbing his other hand, he did the same thing above the other cut. Thick, crimson blood continued to ooze from the wounds. Graham placed two fingers under Pete’s neck to check his pulse. His pulse was so weak, Graham could barely find it.
He glanced up at Hector and he yanked his fingers off Pete’s neck. “It’s no use. He’ll never make it out of here alive.”
Wiping Pete’s blood onto his ruined shirt, he grabbed his phone from his pocket. He needed to catch a flight back home as soon as possible. His main suspect was dead, he had no other leads, and someone on the inside was up to their neck in this shit. He had to figure out who, and fast. He ground his teeth together as he pulled up the flight schedule on his phone.
One thing Pete had said kept spinning around in his head.
You should know there are no such thing as coincidences.
23
Adull ache thudded behind Mickey’s right eye, matching the pounding in her shoulder.
She shifted in the small seat in the back of the plane, but she couldn’t get comfortable. She hated the confinement of the chair, it wasn’t natural to her. She wanted to stand in the front of the plane with the flight attendants working the flight, but she didn’t know them very well. She usually worked with the same group of people, and had only met this crew a handful of times. They wouldn’t appreciate her annoying them.
She inserted her earbuds and set her iTunes to shuffle. Exhaustion and pent-up emotion made her limbs heavy. Between almost being killed, Pete being behind bars, and her growing feelings for Graham…it was as if every emotion in her body screamed at her for attention. She’d kept her shit together when saying goodbye to Graham, and then waited hours for a flight. Now, all she wanted was to be home. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she leaned her head against the back of her seat to wait for takeoff.
A slight hesitation in the song made her eyes fly open and check her phone. A message from Graham hovered on her homescreen. She must have forgotten to put her phone on airplane mode. Swiping open the message, she read the text.
Things didn’t go as hoped today. I’ll fill you in later. Catching a flight now. Should be back in Chicago shortly after you.
A sigh of relief eased some of the tension in her neck, but her stomach dropped. Had Pete not told him where Becca was? She quickly shot back a reply.
Sorry it didn’t go well. My flight was delayed…again…so we’ll probably land around the same time.
Three bubbles popped up below her message and she waited for his response.
Wait for me and I’ll drive you home.
She sent back the thumbs up and kissy face emojis and then quickly set her phone to airplane mode before starting her music again. The plane jostled her sore body back and forth as it taxied toward the runway. She clenched her teeth and her fingers curled around the armrest. The engines roared to life and the plane sped down the runway until it lifted off the ground. Only a few more hours and she’d be home. Then she could find out what Graham had learned from Pete, and hopefully put this nightmare behind her.
The floor rumbled under her feet as the wheels tucked into the bottom of the plane. Her ears popped and the plane tilted as it turned toward its correct flight path to Chicago. The turquoise blue of the ocean and the tall buildings of Cancun came into view, and were quickly replaced by blue skies and white clouds as the plane straightened and climbed higher in the sky. She leaned her head against her seat, closed her eyes, and settled in for the flight.
The plane dropped down and Mickey’s eyes flew open. Her heart lodged in her throat and her head swiveled around thecabin. Her breath hitched on a gasp, and a gentle hand covered hers. “It’s just a little turbulence, dear. You can go back to sleep.”
She smiled at the white-haired older lady next to her. “Thank you. It just startled me awake. I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep.”
