Alibi (Brantley Walker Off the Books #5) - Nicole Edwards Page 0,79

cartels and would take any tiny crumb she threw his way, so she’d made him an offer she knew he wouldn’t refuse. Two thousand dollars to fly her over the border. He hadn’t even batted an eyelash before saying yes, only asking for half up-front, the other half when he picked her up to take her to the airport.

As much as she despised the idea of being anywhere near the guy, it worked in her favor and that was all that mattered. She just needed a few months off the grid, some time to catch her breath. At that point, she would pick up where she left off. Eventually Travis Walker would move on with his life, forget she was a threat. At that point, she’d have him right where she wanted him.

A knock sounded on her motel room door as she was tossing the rest of her stuff into her bag. She wanted to leave a few things behind, to let the people looking for her know that she had been here, right under their noses. Juliet was beginning to enjoy this cat and mouse game as much as she enjoyed this little town.

“Señorita, we must go,” the muffled voice said through the door.

Juliet smiled. That was her ride to the airport.

She glanced around the room one last time, hand on the knob.

Yes, she had everything she needed for now.

She opened the door and stepped back, ensuring she didn’t accidentally touch the loathsome man. Pointing to her bag, she instructed him to get it as she put her sunglasses on her nose. No sense risking someone recognizing her now.

“Of course, señorita,” the man said, his tone harder than it had been before.

There was a niggling at the back of her neck, a warning that she probably should’ve heeded before she allowed him to come into the room.

By the time she realized there was a threat, it was too late.

She didn’t even have enough time for one last thought before the bullet hit her right between the eyes.

No one ever even heard the shot.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Friday, March 5, 2021

“I still can’t believe that was a dead end,” JJ bitched, leaning against one of the empty desks, arms crossed over her chest.

Brantley watched her, not looking over at Reese, which would’ve been his first instinct.

It had been three days since their quick trip down to Port Isabel. When they’d come back empty-handed, JJ hadn’t taken it well. Every day since, she’d been grumbling, continuing to pore over data in an attempt to find out where Juliet Prince was staying.

“It happens,” Baz said, sounding equally bothered by it.

“But Mexico?” JJ grumbled. “How’d she get a flight out of the country?”

“It happens every day,” Reese said, passing Brantley a cup of coffee.

“We’ll get her,” Trey promised. “One day, her crazy will have her comin’ back and—”

Brantley’s brother stopped talking when a breaking news story flashed on the television screen. The news desk reporter appeared, along with a caption on the bottom that read: Victim believed to be Juliet Prince, wanted for kidnapping and murder.

“Turn it up,” Brantley barked.

JJ grabbed the remote, hit the volume button.

“We’re bringing you a breaking story out of Port Isabel, Texas. On scene is our very own Michelle Bentley. Michelle, can you tell us what’s going on down there?”

“Yes, thanks, Michael.” The woman standing in front of a motel sign stared directly into the camera. “You might remember the story we brought you nearly two months ago. Coyote Ridge resident Kylie Walker was run down and killed by this woman”—an image of Juliet Prince appeared on the screen—“Juliet Prince, only a few months after she allegedly kidnapped Kylie’s daughter, Kate. We brought you this story when Kylie’s family offered a one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for any information that would lead to her capture.

“Just a few hours ago, we learned that Prince’s body was found in a motel room here in Port Isabel, Texas, a small town about twenty miles north of Brownsville. I’m on scene now, and as you can see behind me, crime scene techs are still working.

“I spoke to local officials earlier, and they informed us they will continue to investigate Prince’s death but are stating they believe it to be an attempted mugging gone wrong. Along with several false IDs, police recovered close to two hundred thousand dollars in Prince’s motel room. They believe the perpetrator fled the scene after the altercation. If we learn anything more, we will be reporting to you first.”

The news desk reporter returned. “Thanks,

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