words for the first time in what seemed like hours. I saw a text from Jenna saying she was leaving the restaurant in about ten minutes. I replied, asking if we could just get together at her place instead and she agreed.
Reluctantly, I pried myself away from Charlie’s journals and grabbed my bag, leaving the house. The air was crisp and a bit cool, a nice breeze coming in from the ocean. Taking a calming breath of the salty sea air, I jumped into the SUV and turned toward the main strip of South Padre. It was relatively quiet for just a few weeks before Christmas. Soon, I knew I would treasure the tranquility, especially once Triple B decided to make his entrance into the world.
As I sat at a stoplight, I thought how I’d soon be saying goodbye to this town and starting my new life in Boston. It was bittersweet, but it was fitting that Tyler and I were set to start over again somewhere far away from here. I didn’t want our son around any of the troubles of my past. He needed a clean start just as much as I did.
I was still lost in my thoughts as I parked my car in the lot of Richard’s hotel and strolled through the lobby. It was adorned with stunning Christmas decorations, a thirty-foot tree filling the large atrium-like space. A pianist sat by the tree, playing Christmas carols, and vacationers came and went…some in shorts and flip-flops, others in long pants and sweatshirts.
Smiling at a group of tourists, I entered the elevator and took it all the way to the top floor. Exiting when it came to a stop, I walked down the long corridor and approached the door to Richard’s and Jenna’s condo. As I was about to knock, I noticed it was slightly ajar. It could have been nothing, but after recent events, I no longer believed in coincidences.
“Hello?” I yelled out, knocking on the opened door. I waited for an answer but none came. Alarm bells went off, but my curiosity got the better of me, driving me forward when everything else told me to turn back and go home.
Retrieving the pistol from my purse and chambering a round, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Jenna? Are you in here? It’s Mack.”
Still no answer. Their condo appeared as it always had. The living room was practically immaculate with a beautifully decorated tree just in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Walking further into the condo, my weapon at my side, I noticed Jenna’s purse sitting on the kitchen island, the contents spilled as if she had been looking for something rather hastily.
“Jenna?” I called out again. Tiptoeing down the corridor off the living room to see if she was in her office, I halted in my steps when I heard an angry voice speaking in a foreign language. It sounded Russian, but I couldn’t be sure.
Frozen in place, I didn’t realize when the conversation had ended…until a light flooded the hallway and I snapped my head up, trying to make sense of why this person I thought I knew had a gun aimed at me.
With shaky hands, I raised my own weapon. Before I could get off a shot, I felt a sharp pain in my head and my world went dark.
Tyler
I SAT IN THE OFFICE of the club, anxiously waiting for Eli to show up. He had said he was on his way from Brownsville with what he thought was a possible connection between Galloway and this Boris Ranko, who had tried to blow us up. I prayed it was one that would finally put an end to all of this. The more time that passed without any new information, the more uneasy I became that everything would fall out from underneath me. I needed answers, and I needed them now.
Focusing on my laptop, my eyes glossed over the massive amount of information we had accumulated since the beginning of this case over a year ago. I tried to separate what I knew to be fact from what I knew was clearly fiction. Unfortunately, what I knew to be true and backed up by physical evidence was lacking. For the most part, all we had was one person’s story against another’s, all of it contradictory. The little physical evidence we did have, from an FBI agent I still wasn’t sure was reliable, supported a story I