Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
"He's very good at what he does," Kincaid interjects.
"If we got information that leads somewhere and then it's called into question during trial—"
"You've got to stop thinking like ICE and worrying about court cases," he says. "Our goal is to bring people home. We can't go into a case worrying about what happens a year after. Cerberus has always focused on the person needing our help not the indictment of the bad guy."
I know exactly what he's saying. I also know it isn't my call to allow anyone to be sacrificed in order for us to get a horrible person off the streets, but trying to make a good case while also rescuing those that need help is just as important so further victims aren't created.
"This isn't South America," I argue. "We don't get to just do a raid on a property and kill everyone involved. We have to answer to someone. That's why this branch of Cerberus had to be different if we are going to stay in operation."
"I like your use of we," he says. "You've always been Cerberus, Eddie."
"Slip of the tongue," I mutter.
"Breakfast hasn't gotten here yet?"
I lift my eyes as Cora walks into the room.
"Who's that?" Kincaid asks, and like someone doing something wrong, I get nervous.
"No one. I'll call you later."
I hang up the phone but not before his chuckle makes it through the line.
I can only imagine what the man thinks is going on here, and it wouldn't lean toward the innocuous night Cora and I had last night.
I don't know why I opted to hang up rather than explain what happened last night, but I know without a doubt, he'll give me shit about it the next time we speak.
"I've got to go," I tell her, sitting back on the sofa and pulling on my shoes.
"Breakfast is on the way," she argues.
"This wasn't a social call," I remind her. "I've already wasted enough time."
I feel like a complete asshole when I look up at her and watch her face fall before she schools it back into something that would pass the scrutiny of the press. The woman is a pro at not letting her emotions show, and I can't help but wonder what that toll takes on her mind.
But her issues aren't my issues with the exception of the case I'm working in connection to Sadie Preston.
"I need you to promise me that you'll stay away from Daydreamer's Spa," I say as I stand.
"I'm not leaving town," she counters.
"I'm not asking you to leave town," I say, doing my best to ignore the zing of current that runs through me with knowing she'll be close. "But you can't run around town trying to insert yourself into the investigation either. I can't focus on finding Sadie if I have to worry about you."
"I want updates," she argues, and it isn't lost on me that she hasn't agreed to anything.
"I'll call you."
"I'll text you from my new number."
"Very good," I say before turning and walking toward the door.
"This feels like a morning-after brush-off, and we didn't even have sex."
Her words stop me in my tracks.
"I don't even have your number, so how can I text you mine?"
For some reason, instead of reminding her that Kincaid is her direct contact, I pull my phone from my pocket and hand it to her, waiting for her to put her number in before handing it back to me.
"Thank you," she says just as I reach out to grab the doorknob. "For what you're doing to find Sadie."
I walk out the door rather than remind her that this is just a job for me, because all it took was one night of talking with her to make me question whether or not that's actually a lie.
Chapter 18
Cora
It's not often that I find myself bored. At home, there's always something to be done, but in this hotel suite in DC, there's nothing I can do but sit and wait. It's been hours since Eddie left, but it feels like an eternity. I think wanting answers so badly and wanting to bring Sadie home safely triples the length of every second, making it worse to just be sitting here doing nothing.
I pull out my phone, using the internet browser to look through the digital catalog from my favorite flower seed company, but it's a waste of time. I ordered seeds before Christmas.
I pace the room, but it only makes me more anxious, and I decide I have to leave the room.
I didn't exactly promise him that I wouldn't go looking for trouble, but it hit me like a lead weight the idea that the time he spent here was time he could've been looking for Sadie.
What if something bad was happening to my sister while we laughed and told stories? I'd never be able to live with myself. I'm a distraction to why he's here in the first place.