“C’mon in, Kirsten.”
“Hey,” Kirsten said. “Just an FYI. We’re almost out of rope.”
“I checked inventory when I started working here,” Providence said. “There were plenty of bondage bundles. Does the club usually go through that much rope so fast?”
Kirsten gave a little shrug. “I dunno.”
“I’ll order some. Anything else?”
“Are the security cams on?”
Providence studied her. “Why do you ask?”
“Mavis never turned them on.”
She didn’t answer my question.“They’re on. Why are you asking?”
“No reason,” Kirsten said before scooting out.
Hmm, what was that all about?
Providence jumped online to order more rope. Though there were a variety of colors and textures, Stryker only used black hemp in fifteen and thirty-foot bundles. As she placed the order, she remembered what the police had said.He was bound with rope and tied to a mooring in Georgetown.
Warren had told them Matt had been bound with black rope. A chill slithered down her back.If I were investigating this, Dakota would look guilty as hell.
At three in the morning, Providence left the club with the flowers. When she got home, she set the vase on her kitchen table. The pop of vibrant colors brightened her gray and white kitchen.
As she stared at the bouquet, she realized she hadn’t thanked Dakota. “The flowers are gorgeous,” she texted. “Thank you.”
To her surprise, dots appeared. “They pale in comparison to you.”
She laughed and texted back, “You’re laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”
“Have dinner with me.”
She stared at his text. She hadn’t been on a date in years. Dating meant talking. What would she talk about? Not her job. Not her past. And talking about her unwell mom wouldn’t cut it. Better to keep him at arm’s length.
“I’ll think about it,” she texted back. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him no. In her heart of hearts, she wanted to spend time with him.
“I look forward to seeing you,” he texted back.
So cocky.
How could someone this attentive and this romantic be an assassin?
I’m leading a double life and my closest friends and family don’t have a clue. He could be, too.
12
Providence’s New Partner
At six twenty on Friday morning, Providence’s phone buzzed with an incoming text from Patricia. “Please come into the office at nine fifteen. My conference room.”
Execution day.
At nine, she passed through security and rode the packed elevator. She didn’t bother stopping at her desk and she didn’t grab a coffee.No point in delaying the inevitable.
Patricia was already seated at the head of the table and Providence’s direct supervisor, Lou, was there, along with a man she didn’t recognize. They rose. After handshakes and an introduction to the human resources manager, everyone sat.
