“Oh, okay.” He typed on his tablet. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s it. We’ll continue communication via email.” I’d created an encrypted email for the dark web.
After he left, I studied Tony’s photos in my hotel room. Iwas seventy percent certain this was Tony Hesselberg. The man in the photo had aged considerably, looking thinner than I remembered. Twenty years changed a person. I didn’t look the same either. Despite my gut telling me it was Tony, I needed confirmation.
If he had survived the explosion, then others could have too. Could Tony be the mastermind behind the recent murders? Or was someone else giving orders?
I’d wait for the image files to send to the boys.
Right now I needed Eva. I finished typing my text and sent it.
Kain:Hi, this is Kain.
Eva:Kain who?
She’d forgotten about me already?
Kain:The one who rescued you.
Eva:Oh.
Did she know more than one Kain? I had to make sure my face was the only one associated with that name.
Eva:Sorry. This isn’t Eva.
Who was this fucker?
Eva:She’s not available right now.
Kain:Who is this?
Eva:Her grandfather.
Chapter Nine
Eva
The following week was extremely busy at work. My hectic schedule had me working on days I normally had off. Happy Flowers was growing, and that made me ecstatic for Morgan. Though she was thrilled, her joy was tainted by the stressful divorce. Today was Sunday, and the shop closed early, so I surprised Grandpa Collins with dinner from Tokyo City on the way home. He loved unagi sushi and their shrimp and vegetable tempura.
With dinner in tow, I got onto the Green Line train, crowded as always. A man rose from his seat, getting ready for his upcoming stop. I sat down, stared out the window, and saw a couple walking on the sidewalk. The woman’s face brightened as she glanced at the large bouquet in her hand. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t envy all those lucky women on the receiving end of a bouquet from their significant others.Loneliness had set in, but I didn’t let it linger. Or rather, the loneliness disappeared when Kain popped into my head.
Had he heard anything from Detective McNally about the man at the Boston Harbor Hotel? I should stop thinking about the criminal, but I couldn’t help it. He had been on my street and our eyes connected, even if it was only for a moment. As far as I knew, no crimes had occurred in my neighborhood after that encounter. Still, something about him clung to me.
When the train slowed to a stop, my heart clenched with concern at the familiar figure walking down the sidewalk. I stepped off the train, crossed the street, and rushed toward my grandfather, who was carrying a grocery bag.
“Grandpa!” I shouted.
He turned, saw me, waved, and waited for me.
“What are you doing out?” I asked, examining him in his puffy coat, knit hat, and flushed cheeks from the cold air. “Are you okay?”
He looked confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s cold out. You should be inside. If you need to go out, I can walk with you. Or drive you.”
“I’m not a little kid, Eva,” he huffed. “I can take a walk by myself. Besides, I wanted to make creamy chicken and wild rice soup with fresh sourdough for you.”
My heart warmed, but I said, “What if something?—”
