Blind Faith - Sharon Sala Page 0,46

was still in the air as Charlie sat down in the shadows, opened the sack and unwrapped the roast beef sandwich au jus. The slices of roast beef were melt-in-your-mouth tender, and the crusty bun and the warm jus warmed his belly. He ate without thought until the food was gone.

As he gathered up the wrappings and sack to throw away, he felt something else in the bottom of the sack. It was a Hershey bar. Chocolate was Wyrick’s calling card. He peeled off the paper, then sat and ate the whole thing, one small square at a time. By the time he had finished the candy bar, the knot in his belly was almost unwound.

It was with reluctance that he got up, tossed his garbage into the trash can in the parking lot and then went back inside. But this time when he walked back into the residents’ quarters, the fresh air and full belly had renewed him enough for the hours to come.

* * *

The next morning, Wyrick had the temporary office set up and the office phone on voice mail. Merlin finally responded to her text from yesterday, but his response was a little cryptic.

I’m outside. Come find me.

So she grabbed a jacket and headed outside, but he was nowhere in sight. After a few moments, she thought of the greenhouse. The warm air wrapped around her like a hug as she entered it and then saw him at the back.

“Hey,” she said.

He turned at the sound of her voice and smiled.

“Come in! I haven’t had a visitor out here in ages. Do you like tomatoes? I love them, and those you get in a supermarket don’t even taste like tomatoes. You have to pick them when they’re really ripe to get that ripe on the vine taste.”

“Yes, I like them,” Wyrick said.

“Awesome. Try one of these!” he said, and plucked a small cherry tomato from the plant closest to him.

Wyrick obliged because it was Merlin and popped it in her mouth. Juice filled her mouth at the first bite.

“Umm, so good,” she said.

“Told you!” he crowed. “So, you’re working from home! What’s wrong?”

“Charlie is unavailable to take on new cases for a while, so I’ll be working from home, that’s all.”

He grabbed a little plastic bowl from a shelf, filled it with cherry tomatoes and handed it to her.

“Enjoy. There’s more where these came from. And one day, you’ll be the one growing them. When you do, eat one for me. I love these things.”

Wyrick left the greenhouse with a lump in her throat and the little bowl clutched against her chest. She hurried across the grounds and back into her apartment, then locked the door.

It wasn’t until she set the tomatoes on the counter that it dawned on her how much time she spent locking herself inside. Wherever she was, she was always locking doors. But was it only to keep the bad guys out—or was it to keep everyone out?

All she knew was this overwhelming fear began when she thought she was going to die, and then she didn’t. The cancer went away, but her fear didn’t. And it was all because of Cyrus Parks. He’d called himself her father, discarded her when he thought she was flawed, then stalked her from afar when she didn’t die. He kept the fear alive until she scared him, and now he wanted her dead. A whole new sense of injustice rolled through her.

“Well, Daddy dear, it’s about time you learn that you don’t always get what you want in life.”

She went into her little office, opened her laptop and pulled up a file labeled PAYBACK. After shutting UT down before, she didn’t think she’d ever have to use this one, but time had proved her wrong.

She opened the file and began pulling up one program after another, her fingers flying over the keys as she entered password after password to get them started. Once she was in, the rest was a matter of her own special skills and then removing the contents.

It took less than two hours to commit the crime of the century and erase every trace of what she’d stolen. She’d tied the knot. Now all she needed was to tie the bow.

She hacked into Parks’s personal email and sent one message.

I’m not dead and your hit man, Boyington, is in jail. You should have left me alone.

She hit Send, knowing that the email would disappear within minutes of being opened.

Then she pulled the