Detective McNally:Good. I’ll see what I can do.
Kain:Thank you.
I had my way of obtaining information, but the police might know something I didn’t. The more data, the better.
George no longer asked a lot of questions when he received a request from me. He was one of the few people who knew about my past, someone I trusted enough to share it with. He proved that there were still good people in this world.
When the banquet room cleared, the police officers added caution tape around the front area. I walked around the hotel, trying to find the guy with the tat dressed in the hotel uniform. Most likely, he snuck out of the hotel when the chaos occurred.
Who was the fucker? Who was his target—or targets? Were there any casualties? It was too soon to know all the details. The media often made errors in its reporting, so I’d wait to hear from George.
I hopped into my car and called Godfrey. “Hey, I need access to the hotel cameras.”
Chapter Seven
Eva
When I got home, I still felt sick to my stomach as I opened the door. I’d never been in a dangerous situation like that.
I kicked off my shoes and inhaled the delicious aroma of herbs, reminding me of Grandpa’s presence. I didn’t want him to worry about me. Composing myself, I walked to the living room and found him in the recliner, watching an episode of MacGyver.
“You’re home early today.” He reached out a hand to me and squeezed. “You look tired.”
“Very,” I said, trying my best not to show anything. “Gonna shower now.”
“Okay. I made us some chicken soup for dinner.”
Homemade soup would make me feel better. I entered my bedroom, closed the door, and sat on my bed, releasing a stressed sigh. My hands trembled, and I clasped them together,trying to calm the nerves. I didn’t know if I could go to work tomorrow.
I reviewed my to-do list for Happy Flowers and looked at the calendar. The Valentine’s Day rush was over, so the shop had some breathing room before the spring demands. Sarah should feel better tomorrow, and Erika asked for more hours this coming week. This was the perfect time for me to take some time off. I emailed Morgan, the owner of the shop, requesting a week off starting tomorrow and briefing her on what had occurred at the hotel.
In the shower, I replayed the event in my head. Who was that man with the tattoo on his face? Why was he in my neighborhood? Did he live around here? The possibility only made me feel more terrified, and I called the local police, informing them of what I knew.
Was anyone hurt in the banquet room?
My heart thudded, remembering how Kain had shielded me with his body. His reaction was quick, as though he were used to these dire situations. Had he been hurt? He appeared fine, more stable than I was. He’d made me feel safe, but now I felt exposed and vulnerable, yearning for his presence. The attraction surprised me. Well, not really. He had a natural magnetism. But caution kept me at bay. I didn’t want to get hurt again. My chest constricted, and I rubbed circles around my sternum.
I slapped my hand to my forehead. What was I doing? Kain already had a beautiful woman. The last thing I wanted was to interfere with his relationship. Not my style.
Focus on yourself. Focus on your dreams.
With that in mind, I knew what I’d be doing during my week off: spending time with my grandfather and working toward my future flower shop.
Chapter Eight
Kain
I sat inside the Pinnacle Hotel lounge in San Diego, waiting for my meeting with Newton Finn, a man who claimed to have seen Tony Hesselberg. I thought Tony had died during the blast twenty years ago. Though that case had been closed by the officials, my friends and I kept our private investigation under the radar. I had sent out images of Tony, Razor, Andrew, Ben, Victor, and other members I dealt with during my time there. No new information had surfaced until recently.
I didn’t know the extent of Victor’s connection, and it was better to err on the side of caution. A psychopath could’ve picked up where Victor had left off. The recent murders proved that.
Back then, the coroner had confirmed that one of the dead bodies belonged to Victor Hawthorne based on DNA testing. Still, I understood some people idolized murderers andromanticized the idea of resurrecting him. This could be that situation.
My phone buzzed with a text.
Detective McNally:This is her number.
He gave me Eva’s contact information when I lied about losing it during the explosion. She’d left it with his office when she reported seeing the suspect from the hotel incident in her neighborhood. It had been a few days, and the police were still looking for him. The recordings Godfrey provided didn’t show anyone resembling the hotel worker, but I’d look again when time allowed.
