Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
"Doesn't matter. Those searches lead right back to Farmington."
"So I could've possibly opened the door for Whitmore to find her?"
"I deleted the tracking as soon as I knew about it, but if someone had the same tracking going, they could've gotten those notifications before I was able to scramble them," Max says.
"Motherfucker," I mutter.
"I imagine it'll all be okay," Kincaid says. "We don't mind you looking, but we need you to come to Max to do that type of research. He has some things in his system that prevent people from being able to track that shit back to the clubhouse."
"If I had known," I mutter. "I never—"
"We just wanted you to be aware, is all," Kincaid adds.
The idea that I could be the one responsible for leading that deranged lunatic right to our doorstep makes me want to flip this fucking table.
"And to clarify, just because we need to," Shadow says. "You weren't planning to take a trip to the East Coast anytime soon, were you?"
I turn my attention to the VP, and for some reason, the threat of a smile is trying to tug at the corner of my mouth. The tone of his voice suggests he may have drawn the short straw in the decision of who was going to have to ask about my intentions after they discovered I'd been doing a little research on the East Coast family. I'd be a liar if I said I hadn't considered asking for a few days off to take a trip. Juliet’s problems could disappear with one strategically placed visit to her hometown. In my head, that just seems a whole lot easier than sitting around and waiting for shit to go down before we can solve the problem.
"No," I say, seeing several men in the room draw a breath of relief. "Not unless you want me to."
Chuckles echo around me.
"Believe me," Kincaid begins. "I wish I could book you a flight."
"I won't do any more independent research," I vow to Kincaid before looking over at Max. "Not trying to make anyone's job harder."
"That's not the only reason you're here," Kincaid says. "Max has more news."
"I've dug deep," Max begins. "And I ran across some posts someone made on social media. The poster is a family member of a guy who was in the same prison block as Graham Whitmore. It doesn't mention him by name, but digging leads me to believe that it is him."
I turn all my attention to Max. "What did you find?"
"He all but had a map on the prison walls with his plans of how he was going to seek vengeance. While in lockup, the man was obsessed with retribution. The post was a warning to whoever that attention was directed at. They seemed worried about her. Although the post went viral, I doubt she knows about it if she has kept a very low digital footprint."
"Or maybe she does know, and that's been one of the triggers for moving so often," Shadow interjects.
"He hasn't been as cool-headed as the prison records would like us to think that he has been," Kincaid adds.
"The post was only months before his release, so I think it's safe to say that his obsession with her was as strong, if not stronger, than when he went to prison," Max says.
"We're working on finding the private investigator now," Kincaid begins. "We need to know exactly what kind of information Graham has been given, so we can know how close he is to finding her."
"The idea that there are people in the world who would trade a woman's safety for a little cash is insane," I mutter.
"Makes them just as bad as the ex-husband," Shadow agrees.
"We're still tracking Graham's every move," Max assures the group. "He has to be one of the most patient men in the world."
"Maybe he got out and decided against going after her," Snatch offers, speaking for the first time since I walked into the room.
I look over at the man, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that he knows better. Graham isn't going to spend over eight years in prison, obsessed with revenge and not put a plan into action.
"We can hope," Kincaid says. "But we'll treat him like the threat we know him to be."
"And how long do we spend our energy just watching him?" I ask. "He's been out nearly a year and a half."
"As long as it takes for him to either give up or make a move," Kincaid assures me. "The man may have all the patience in the world, but so does Cerberus."
"And if she takes off again?" I ask.
Kincaid considers the question for a minute before responding.
"Let's hope that she doesn't," he says. "We were pretty clear that she'd be protected while she worked at the shelter, but if she doesn't want us involved, there isn't much we can do."