Faceless (Sinister Secrets Book 2) Candle Sutton (android based ebook reader TXT) 📖

No remorse. Not about the smuggling. Not about the kidnapping and organ harvesting.

He made up the rules as he went…

A chill snaked through her.

How many times had Dak accused her of the same thing?

Now that she was seeing it head on, it wasn’t a very attractive thing. Not at all.

“So, uh, I’d like to know about you.”

She snapped her attention back to him. “You haven’t earned that right.”

“I guess I deserved that.”

“Why didn’t you ever come back?” Her voice rose, a slightly shrill sound that she hated entering her tone. “You say you want a chance, but you were never there.”

“I know.” His shoulders dropped. “I can’t do anything about that now.”

“You can tell me why.”

“I was scared. At first. Then I got into smuggling and knew how Charlie, uh, your mom would feel about that.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Then I thought I’d make a little more money, get out, and find you and your mom and take care of you both.”

“But it was never enough.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

He didn’t have to tell her. When it came to greed, there was never enough.

He didn’t agree, but didn’t deny it either. “Then I met my ex-wife. We got married, had a family. But it all fell apart. I think maybe I never got over Charlie.”

Like that was supposed to make her feel better. “You didn’t even have the decency to divorce Mum before remarrying.”

He blinked. “Your mom and I were never married.”

What? The room spun.

Why had Mum never told her that?

Then again, had her mum ever said they were married? Sure, she’d assumed, but she didn’t recall them ever talking about it.

They hadn’t actually talked about Mitch much at all.

“So Charlie… she died? Cancer?”

The hair on her arms tingled and she rubbed them against a sudden chill. “Breast cancer. She didn’t catch it until it was too late.”

“I’m sorry. Wish I’d been there for you. And her.” The corners of his eyes drooped and his lips curled downward. “How old were you?”

“Twenty-seven. I was working as a psychologist in Australia at the time.”

He tilted his head. “Really. How’d you end up in the FBI?”

The hollowness of those years overwhelmed her again. A lump grew in her throat.

She would not cry. Not in front of this man.

“Too many memories there. I needed a change. Thought I’d try to apply my psychology background in a different field.” The reasons went much deeper than that, but he didn’t need to know them.

He didn’t deserve to know them. Not now and probably not ever.

A scrape came from the door, which swung open to reveal two men. One was the man from earlier, the other someone she didn’t recognize.

The second man spoke. “Boss says you got things to do.”

Mitch waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, fine.”

Turning back to her, she saw the regret in his eyes. “I wish we had more time. I’m sorry.”

For the first time, she thought he might actually mean it.

He pushed up and trudged toward the door, pausing in the doorway to give her one last look.

The door slammed behind him, the bolt grinding back into place.

His words echoed in her mind. More time. Meaning time was short.

For whom? For him? Or for her?

She leaned back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling.

How had she gotten here? Injured and trapped? Maybe on the short list for becoming an organ donor?

There had to be something she could do.

Dak would pray.

The thought lodged in her mind.

When was the last time she’d prayed?

Probably never. At least not like Dak did.

She believed in God, but did she believe God was as personal and involved as Dak claimed He was? Did she believe God cared about the mess she was in?

Maybe there was no better time to find out.

Hey, God. If you care, I could use some help. Can you show me how to get out of here?

No flash of lightning or rumbling voice, but Dak didn’t seem to hear that either.

Dak always did what he thought was best while waiting for God to act.

She just hoped God didn’t take too long. If Mitch’s words could be believed, she didn’t have that kind of time.

₪   ₪   ₪

“You lost him?” Fire blazed through Dak’s core and he worked to keep his tone level even as his fingers tightened on the phone.

The agent on the other end, the one who had been given one task – one task! – to watch Mitch Taylor, cleared his throat. “He went to lunch with a group of guys. If I’d gone inside, he woulda seen me for sure. So I watched from across the street. The rest of the guys came back out, but Taylor wasn’t with them. I waited a few minutes, you know, thought he might be in the john, but he didn’t come out. I went in and found his shirt in the trash in the men’s room.”

Dak clenched his jaw to keep from saying something he’d regret.

It sounded like the agent had done everything right. Clearly Taylor knew a thing or two about shaking a tail.

“What about Smith? Has he seen Taylor return to the warehouse?”

The hesitation answered the question for him. “Not so far. But Taylor’s car is still in the lot. He’s gotta be in the area.”

Unless he caught a cab or the bus. Taylor could have caught a ride most anywhere.

“If he shows back up, keep on him.” And don’t lose him again.

Dak ended the call and called the team.

Five minutes later, they were all gathered in the conference room.

“Where are we at with the warehouses?” He leaned over the satellite image of the