The Savior (Black Dagger Brotherhood #17) - J.R. Ward Page 0,149

friends still needed moments of privacy.

But Murhder was gone now, and sad as that was, things had been recalibrated, taken back to normal.

John didn’t need to be a member of the Brotherhood officially.

This was more than good enough for him.

Night had fallen by the time Sarah returned to her home. Then again, January in Upstate New York meant five p.m. was dark as the inside of your hat, to borrow a phrase from her father.

She turned to Special Agent Manfred. “Thanks for the ride.”

He put the unmarked sedan in park, but kept the engine running. “Do you think if this whole federal agent thing doesn’t work out, I could be an Uber driver?”

“Absolutely. I’d totally use you again.”

In the close quarters of the front seat, with the glow of the dash illuminating his face, she decided he was handsome enough. For a human.

“What?” he said.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re smiling.”

“Just thought of something funny. Gallows humor. You know how it goes.”

“Too right. Listen … you have my card. You see anyone around your property, get any strange calls, feel like you’re even in the slightest danger, you call, okay? I’ll be checking in with you in a couple of days anyway.”

“I’m not going to take any chances. Thank you—oh, listen, I might have a job interview out at Stanford University. In California. Is it okay for me to travel? I mean, I’ll let you know where I am and when I’m expected back and everything.”

“Sure.” No dry tone anymore. “I just need to know where to find you in case I need you.”

“Okay.” She picked her backpack up from between her feet. “Thanks again for the ride. I’ll send a tow truck for my car tomorrow or the next day. Guess that cold really drained the battery.”

“Winter’ll do that.”

Sarah got out and closed the passenger door. She was not surprised that he waited until she’d unlocked things and was in safely in her home before he drove away.

He was a good guy, she thought as she locked herself in. A good guy in a tough job.

Refocusing, she went back to her kitchen and intended to eat something, but there was nothing very inspiring available. Stouffer’s Lean Cuisine in the freezer. Ramen noodles in the cupboards. She settled for a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats and didn’t eat much of it.

Probably for the best. The skim milk was twenty-four hours away from a “Best By” violation.

As she sat at her little table in her silent house, the magnitude of her isolation was terrifying. No family. No friends, really.

No Murhder.

The only person she might call if she needed something? An FBI agent.

To keep herself from hyperventilating, she thought about everything she had covered with Manfred. He’d been utterly shocked when she’d told him she had ridden home with Kraiten. He’d even questioned her as to why in the hell, if she believed the man might have killed her fiancé, she would ever get into a car with him.

Sarah had lied and told Manfred that she’d wanted to see if Kraiten brought up the deaths. If the man had anything to say about Gerry or his boss.

Pretty reckless, the agent had said. Downright dangerous is more like it.

Sarah had looked him right in the eye. When the love of your life is gone, nothing is all that scary anymore.

And that was that.

When everything was said and done, it turned out the FBI had nothing to contradict her story about Sunday night. No evidence. No tapes. No security guards with different versions of the truth. Manfred hadn’t exactly told her as much, but the more comfortable he became with her and her story, the more his frustration with the case had started to come through. And it wasn’t hard to guess that there was nothing that got members of law enforcement more twitchy than lack of evidence.

Especially when their guts told them that a crime or crimes had been committed.

If she hadn’t known what Murhder could do to the human brain—if she hadn’t experienced his tricks herself—she would never have understood how it was possible for three individuals to break into a secured location, rescue someone, and leave without a trace.

Although Kraiten had certainly assisted them in all that by killing himself. Which was lucky …

Or was it? For all she knew, Murhder could have programmed Kraiten to get rid of all of the evidence. Erase not just the footage, the servers, the logs, but the company itself.

The CEO, himself.

Neat and tidy.

Like none of it had ever happened.

Sarah

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024