The hunt would begin again, closer than ever.
Should she go with the odds? The juice was Carston’s thing. Probably he wouldn’t offer it to someone else. But what if?
As her mind raced through the possibilities, a small piece of meaningless information—or so she’d categorized it—popped into her head and suggested a new prospect.
The zoo. The daughter had kept going on and on about the zoo. And all the calls, every day, some of them hours long. What if Erin Carston-Boyd wasn’t always in such close touch with her father? What if Alex, in her hurry to get to the important calls, had fast-forwarded through vital information—like a pending visit from his daughter and granddaughter? The DC zoo was famous. Exactly the kind of place you’d take your out-of-town granddaughter. Just like Lucky Charms was exactly the kind of cereal an indulgent grandpa would have on hand for her breakfast.
Alex sighed, quietly but deeply.
She couldn’t risk poisoning the child.
Now what? The coffee beans? But Erin would drink coffee, too. Maybe another kind of toxin, something that looked like salmonella?
She couldn’t wait until the family went back where they belonged. Deavers and Pace would be dead by then—if they weren’t already—and Carston would be on high alert. This was her one chance to stay ahead of the panicked reaction. There would be six bottles of juice, only one poisoned… odds were Carston would drink it… it was unlikely the child would be hurt…
Ugh, she groaned mentally, and slowed her pace. She knew she wasn’t going to do it. And she couldn’t go back to his favorite sidewalk café and add an extra ingredient to his chicken parm; he’d surely given up that habit once she’d contacted him there. She’d be stuck with something really obvious and dangerous now, like borrowing Daniel’s rifle and shooting Carston through his kitchen window. Her chances of getting caught—and killed—would be much, much higher than she’d planned.
Kevin was going to be disgusted with her. Only one person on her list, and she’d already blown it. She couldn’t resent that reaction; she was disgusted with herself, too.
As though he could read her mind, just then Kevin called. She felt the vibration in her pocket, then pulled the phone out and read the number. She hit Answer and put it to her ear, but didn’t say anything. She was still too close to the housekeeper, and she didn’t want the woman to hear her voice and turn, getting another, closer look at the blond woman shadowing her. Perhaps the housekeeper was still the way in. Alex couldn’t afford to be noticed.
Alex waited for Kevin to start in on her, irrationally sure he had somehow sensed that she was failing; Way to drop the ball, Oleander, in the half shout that was his normal volume.
Kevin said nothing. She pulled the phone back to look at the screen. Had they been disconnected? Had he dialed her by accident?
The call was live. The seconds counted upward in the bottom corner of the screen.
Alex almost said, Kevin?
Four years of paranoia stopped her tongue.
She pressed the phone to her ear and listened intently. There was no ambient sound of a car or movement. No wind. No animal sounds, no human sounds.
Goose bumps erupted on the backs of her arms, raised the hair on her neck. She’d walked past her car, and now she had to keep going. Her eyes darted around while she kept her head still; she focused on a dumpster in the back corner of the lot. Her pace quickened. She was too close to the center of her enemy’s power. If they were tracing this call, it would not take them long to get here. She wanted to run, wanted it badly, but she kept herself to a quick, purposeful walk.
Still no sound from the other end of the line. The cold, heavy hollow in the pit of her stomach grew larger.
Kevin wasn’t going to suddenly start speaking to her, she knew that. Still, she hesitated for one more second. Once she did what she knew she had to do now, it was over. Her only connection to Kevin was severed.
She hung up. The numbers at the bottom of the screen told her the call had lasted for only seventeen seconds. It felt like much more time had passed.
She walked around the side of the dumpster, where she wasn’t visible from the parking lot. She couldn’t see anyone, which hopefully meant no one could see her.
She set the groceries on the ground.
In the lining of her purse, she had a small lock-picking kit. She’d never had to use it for its real purpose, but it came in handy now and then when she worked with some of her smaller reflux rings and adapters. She pulled the thinnest probe, then used it to pop the SIM card tray out from her phone. Both card and tray went into her bag.