Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
As she climbed, her boots scuffed against the worn wood steps. The air grew cooler the higher she went, the scent of coffee thinning until only the faintest trace remained.
She reached the top landing where Kate Vuittron, her office manager, sat behind an old pastry glass display case repurposed as a desk. The glass still bore scratches from trays and dishes long since discarded. Beneath the polish, faint smudges remained, like ghosts of the sweets once displayed there.
Kate glanced up from her computer, her gaze searching. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Just fine. I have a few muscle aches and contusions, but nothing else to worry about.” Laurel rolled her shoulders, fighting off a twinge of pain. “How’s Viv doing? I haven’t had a chance to check on her friend who died.”
Kate blinked. “What friend?”
Laurel stilled. That was interesting. “I don’t know. He’s from Seattle, and I assumed she knew him from school sports.”
“Huh.” Kate cocked her head. “I guess I’d better get to the bottom of that one when I get home today. She has been attending many of the softball and baseball coed camps in Seattle, so I figured she’d made some new friends. If she found a new beau, she’s probably stressed about her current boyfriend, Ryan. Maybe. Who knows.”
Laurel chewed on her lip. She wouldn’t have kept a secret from Kate, but she hoped Viv wouldn’t be mad. Although, why hadn’t Viv told her mother about the deceased kid from Seattle? Laurel would dig down more on that, as Walter would say. Speaking of whom . . . “Is Walter in yet?”
Kate nodded, her blond hair brushing her shoulders. “Yes, and I’ve already requisitioned him a new vehicle. He’s in his office. The man is moving a little slow, like you.”
“Thank you. Is there anything I need to focus immediately upon?”
“Not at the moment.” Kate smiled, looking like her three daughters captured in the picture behind her on a small glass shelf. “But we both know that’ll change somehow.”
Laurel moved past Kate’s desk and through the door that bisected the reception area into the hub of their operations. She walked past the conference room and the restrooms, and headed straight for Nester’s lair.
The computer expert’s office was a cluttered, buzzing mess of cables and monitors. Mangled snowboards decorated the walls, some splintered, some bent, all of them salvaged from Nester’s hobby on the hills. They gave the room a reckless sort of character.
He glanced up from his monitors, his dark eyes cool and steady. His freshly shaved head gave him a harder look, and the overhead lights reflected off his smooth dark skin. He lifted a steaming cup from Staggers and took a deep gulp, the logo already faded from his grip. “Good morning. I’m glad you’re okay after the wreck.”
“Thanks. Your computers are all humming.” Laurel scanned the bank of monitors he had lined up like a fortress.
“I’ve got a few things running at once.” Nester set down his coffee, fingers already flying across the keyboard. “I know the Seattle FBI office is working the case, but I’ve been doing a deep dive on the truck that ran you and Walter off the road. I’m cross-referencing every traffic cam, drone image, even random social media posts. So far, nothing. The thing’s a ghost.”
“The ballistics report?”
“Yeah.” Nester frowned, his fingers tapping against the keyboard. “The report came back with no match anywhere. The rounds were standard 7.62x39mm. The kind you’d use in an older AK-47. It’s common and dirty. Easy to get, hard to trace.”
A chill swept over her skin that had nothing to do with the rain outside. “And the shooters?”
“No record of the passenger seeking medical help. At least, not that I’ve found.” Nester’s gaze didn’t leave his screens. “I’ve contacted every hospital, urgent care, emergency room, smaller doctor’s offices, even a couple of veterinary clinics, just in case someone tried to patch him up under the radar. Nothing.”
“They were both wearing balaclavas. It follows logic that they’d cover their tracks everywhere else, too,” Laurel said.
“I’ll keep working, boss,” Nester said, his gaze never leaving the monitors.
As far as Laurel was concerned, Nester was the absolute best. Quiet, steady, relentless. He worked every angle until it snapped or twisted into something that made sense. “All right. Just try not to step on the toes, as they say, of the Seattle office too much.”
“I’m being very careful,” he admitted. “So far, they’re working with us and seem happy to share info.”
Laurel wondered how long that would last, but she’d take the good fortune while she could. The Seattle office had jurisdiction and didn’t need to share information. They were playing nice, but everyone had their limits, and if Abigail ended her relationship with Agent Norrs, things might become difficult. “Do you have anything on the courthouse shooting?”