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Cassie felt like a broken record. “And Chicago?”

“There’s a folder full of bank transactions. They went back a couple of years. There were only about four or five variations in the numbers.” Harris paused to see if Cassie followed her train of thought, but wh

en only silence met her, she continued. “It reads like services rendered. A flat fee for a project completed. The night of David’s murder is on that list.”

“Services rendered?” Cassie didn’t like the way her mind was putting two and two together. “You’re talking about an assassin.”

Harris shrugged. She looked far too casual for the topic at hand. “Someone murdered David with a police-issue sniper rifle. It was a professional job. It makes sense.”

“Let me get this straight.” Cassie’s teeth rattled, and she wasn’t sure it was just from the cold. “We’re in Chicago, following a lead on the assassin that killed David?” No matter how many times she said assassin, it didn’t make the word any easier to swallow. “Does that not sound insane to you?”

“We’re following the money trail. If this person is doing jobs for Aguilar, they could be anywhere—Savannah, Chicago, Tallahassee, Rome.”

“You think Aguilar needs to take care of business in Rome?”

“Probably not, but the point still stands. I doubt we’re going to run into David’s killer unless we sound the alarms, and we’re going to do everything we can to avoid that.” Frustration flashed across Harris’ face. “We have a bunch of numbers in a bunch of files, but nothing tied to physical evidence. That’s why we’re here. We need to figure out where that money went and prove it was a payoff for David’s murder.”

“You mentioned an address?”

Harris bobbed her head. They were approaching the end of the path, and yet another fountain rose in the distance. “I imagine Sherman put together the information on the flash drive quickly, hoping to offload it to David and get out of Dodge as soon as he could. Some folders make more sense than others. This one didn’t have much context, but he had included an address. So, that’s where we start.”

Cassie stopped at the foot of the fountain and looked up into the metallic face of the sixteenth president of the United States. Abraham Lincoln: The Man was cast in 1887 and stood twelve feet tall. It depicted the former leader rising from a chair, preparing to give a speech. He holds his lapel and looks down in contemplation. As with most representations of the historical figure, the statue exudes a regal air of quiet intelligence.

Looking into his face reminded Cassie of Lincoln’s complex history. Though many consider him the Great Emancipator, historical evidence suggests that while the president didn’t agree with the institution of slavery on the whole, he also didn’t view Black Americans as equal. As beloved as Lincoln is, and as wonderful as his accomplishments were, he was still only human—full of flaws, contradictions, and secrets.

Cassie turned to Harris. “David left me a letter.”

The detective’s eyes widened. “When?”

“I’m not sure when he wrote it. Lisa gave it to me that day of the funeral.”

There was a beat of silence. “You never told me.”

“I didn’t open it right away.” Cassie found it hard to swallow past the lump in her throat. “I wasn’t sure what to expect. But that last day in New Orleans, I decided to see what it said.”

Harris’ voice was soft. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“He wanted me to.” A pressure settled into Cassie’s chest, and she had to fight to get enough air to speak. “He wanted me to tell you that this wasn’t your fault. That he knew what he was getting into.”

Harris blinked rapidly. When she spoke, there was emotion in her voice. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either.” Cassie fought her own tears. “I don’t know what he was talking about. But he said he wanted his secrets to stay buried with him. He wanted me to tell you to let it go.”

“Let it go?” Harris’ voice was no longer soft. “Why?”

“He said it would be better than the truth.” Cassie took a deep breath and blew it out, but it did nothing for the mounting force threatening to steal the air in her lungs. “I’ve never heard him talk this way before.” Her voice shook. “I’m scared.”

Harris looked down at her shoes. Cassie could see the gears turning in her head. “You’re here, which means you won’t try to talk me out of following this lead.”

“No,” Cassie said. “I won’t.”

“We’re in this together.” Harris looked up. A tear had slid down her cheek. “Right?”

Cassie didn’t answer right away. Harris’ question wasn’t a small one. David’s final request meant something to her, and the last thing she wanted was to be disloyal to her friends, in life or in death. But he had clearly gotten himself mixed up in something big. And he hadn’t told Cassie. The sting of that betrayal battled against her fear of learning the truth.

There was no other person on the planet she had revered and respected as much as David, but he was still only human—full of flaws, contradictions, and secrets. The prospect of digging up his skeletons terrified her, but now that she knew they existed, she couldn’t imagine a life where she wouldn’t spend every waking moment wondering where they came from.

Cassie gazed up into Lincoln’s face and then over at Harris’. Their eyes met, and Cassie knew her answer.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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