Live Wire (Ramsey Security #2)

Even having no interest in this man, I realize Marx might provide me with info to help me protect Brad.

"You did research into Brad's case before writing the book, yes?"

"Sure. I talked to the detectives in charge. Retraced the crime and took pictures of everything."

"The man I shot at the hotel had been off the grid for decades. The man and woman who died when Brad escaped were both essentially homeless for years before their deaths. Did you find anything that connected the first two?"

"No."

"Two people with no clear signs of income managed to pull off the abduction. How did the man from last night afford to pay for his room?"

"He might be a criminal and stole the money."

I think about the man I killed the night before. His clothes were brand new. He had recently gotten his hair trimmed. Yet his skin looked battered like a man surviving on the streets through too many harsh seasons.

"People who live off the grid don't have the means to travel to a big city and pay for an expensive hotel. I find it difficult to believe a member of the cult was homeless in New York, saw Brad was doing local interviews, and decided to steal money to get a room so he could destroy the half demon guy from a decade old TV show."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying there's a missing link. How did the man even know Brad would be in town for the interviews? Was this information publicly posted somewhere? I suggest you use your investigative skills to figure out the answers to these questions. Imagine if you track down the cult and figure out how they're funded, you'd have your second book. It'd probably sell more than the first one."

Marx considers my idea for too long for a man desperate for a follow-up idea.

"Are your people tracking down leads?" he asks.

"Yes, but the old info isn't leading anywhere. We also don't have a lot of new stuff to follow. If you get anything, let us know."

"I will."

After we've finished lying to each other, Marx returns to his seat and puts on headphones. I slide my phone from my pocket and casually type a message to Rafael back in Houston.

"Find everything you can on Marx Hearton. Consider him a hostile."

I allow Marx to settle into his usual routine before I change seats and join Minka.

"How do you think the biter from the hotel found us?" I ask her.

"Someone told him. Duh." When I frown at her tone, she frowns back at me. "Give up. I'm not losing this staring contest."

"What's wrong with you?"

"I don't like flying."

"I'm sorry."

Minka grudgingly smiles. "Troy always teases me for being a wuss. Thank you for being nice."

"I'm getting better at faking compassion."

"Lying to protect my feelings is the kindest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"That's sad."

"I know, so what's up?"

I type on my phone how Marx gives me a bad feeling. After reading the message, Minka nods.

"Young people always give me a bad feeling."

"Rafael is checking up on him. I don't know why we didn't think to do that before."

"Because he's a fifteen year old hipster dork."

"I know you're attempting humor, but I don't understand half of what you just said."

Minka lifts an eyebrow. "You know English without actually knowing it, right?"

"If the hipster is feeding the cult info, we can assume they'll attack again soon."

"If they want to kill Brad, it shouldn't be too hard. I think we might be past the point of worrying about warning shots."

Thinking back to the man in the hotel, I nod. "I don't care how many we bury. This ends with everyone of them dead or in prison."

"Prison sounds like testifying in court. I think if I put my hand on the Bible, a fire might break out."

"I'm fine with dead."

Minka smiles, but remains edgy for the rest of the flight. I sit next to her silently for the final two hours. She watches videos while I read books. My mind is on Brad though.

Feeling him even several seats away, I lean into the aisle so I can catch a glimpse of the top of his blond head. Even such a small thing soothes me, but my chest hurts remembering the expression on his face last night.





23


Saskia

Motherly Affections

The Sloane house feels different now. The hominess I once enjoyed makes me feel like an interloper. Why am I still here? I might as well switch with Minka and let her be the on-site operator. Did I really expect a lust-based relationship with Brad to become something more?

Troy kept watch over the house during our trip, so we find it untouched upon our return. After unpacking, I walk the perimeter because I don't know what else to do with myself now that I'm avoiding Brad for real.

Is he avoiding me? He's certainly keeping his distance. I linger near the kitchen when I see him getting a snack. He sees me too and smiles tightly before walking out a side door with the dogs. I don't know what else I expected when I shared my past. This is how it was always going to end.

Ruth remains in the kitchen, cutting vegetables for dinner. I know she isn't keen on me, and I'm not sure why I care anymore. I do though, so I stand near the island.