Adverse Possession (The Anna Albertini Files #3) - Rebecca Zanetti Page 0,111

I’m more than a job. I mean, it meant everything that you stayed.” Yeah, he probably would’ve stayed for anybody, but he was my boyfriend. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

He turned toward me, and even through the darkness, the brilliance of his blue eyes shone. “You’re my angel. I’m not going to leave you alone in danger, and I’m sure not going to let a bomb get you.”

My heart turned over. Probably twice. His sweetness was so natural. “Also, about Kurt. He was running toward us with his gun out,” I said, reliving the day.

Aiden nodded. “Kurt saw you leaving the courthouse after the bombing and went on instinct. He was trying to protect you.”

I stared into the darkness. “So I guess he’s back on the team?”

“No, he’s still going to LA, but I gave him a commendation.” Aiden chewed on a chip. “We’re solid, but he still screwed up in the one area I can’t allow. You.”

Man, his sweet side was killing me.

His radio crackled. “We have movement coming from the southern gate. One individual. Suspect parked outside the fence and is proceeding on foot inside. Saber, out.”

“Received,” Aiden said, lifting his binoculars again to peer through them. “No visual as of yet.”

Anticipation rushed through me, and I leaned toward the front window, squinting to see through the rain. A dark figure, barely visible, moved toward the open grave only yards from us. The grave had been dug just that morning, and outdoor green carpet had been laid over the hole to keep the rain away. A small tent protected chairs that would be brought out for the funeral this coming morning.

“Everyone hold tight,” Aiden ordered through the radio.

The figure, hunched over with a duffel slung over his bony shoulder, ducked his head from the rain. He methodically walked between grave markers until finally reaching the carpet covering the open one. Leaning over, he gently lowered the dark duffel bag to the ground before straightening and looking around.

Aiden pressed the button on the radio. “Move in. All move in.” He flicked the lights on his truck to bright, illuminating the grave. Then he jumped out of the truck and slammed the door.

Even though the rain, I could hear “ATF, stop,” coming from every direction. The team moved in swiftly, lights on, guns out like a coordinated dance.

With the lights on, it was easy to identify the figure as Norman Barensky. He whipped around with nowhere to go. When he caught sight of Aiden coming at him, his shoulders went back.

Aiden reached him and flipped him around so fast his thin hair flew. Then Aiden had the bomber cuffed in seconds.

Barensky said something that had Aiden’s mouth tightening. Aiden shook him and leaned down to say something in his ear. Then my badass ATF SRT agent boyfriend looked at me and gestured that it was safe for me to approach.

Oh. Okay. I moved to the driver’s side of the truck and stepped down, tucking my coat around me as I walked toward Aiden and the open grave.

Barensky’s mouth dropped open. He looked like a sad old man in the rain and not a deadly bomber.

I reached them and smiled. “Checkmate.”

Epilogue

It had been a week since Norman Barensky’s arrest had hit the paper, and Jolene’s article about the situation and me was relatively positive. She’d interviewed Kelsey, who had gushed about bravery and what a good lawyer I was. That had to bug Jolene so badly. In addition, the article had nicely cleared me in the death of Sasha.

I smiled at the thought as I sat back at my usual table for the family barbecue at my parent’s house in Silverville.

A large tree shielded the table from the sun. We were close to the river and away from the busy porch and tables spread throughout the yard. Usually Pauley sat with me, but today he was inside playing the new PlayStation with Oliver, who’d agreed to come to the barbecue. So my sisters sat on either side of me, which frankly was the most comfortable position for me.

The August sun beat down, and the air was clear after a week of rain. The smell of freshly cut grass and a lot of delicious food filtered around with the sense of home and family.

Tessa drank Prosecco to my right and Donna drank Merlot to my left, and I sat between them watching the family. A boisterous game of darts sprang up on a tree on the other side of the