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He was escorted into an unmarked police car and Emma climbed in beside him.
Lachlan paid particular attention to the two officers who were driving as he tried to recall everything about them. He realized then that he’d slipped back into his old self—the one who watched and noticed everything.
They said people like him—spies—couldn’t switch it off, they couldn’t be a spy during the day and turn it off when they went home to their families at night.
Previously, Lachlan would’ve agreed.
But, if you heap enough grief and sadness onto someone—even a high-level spy—they could turn it off. With absolute clarity, he saw now what he hadn’t been able to see after Eden’s death: he’d lost himself when she died. He’d forgotten who he was and what he did, but as he sat in the patrol car, accused of a double murder, on the way to stand in front of the magistrate court with a lawyer he didn’t trust, he had never felt more like himself.
He was back—LT06 was back.
BETHENNY
Bethenny stood ten steps back from the whiteboard, staring at it as the names on the board moved around in her head like a possessed jigsaw puzzle.
Kiera Johnson
Jessica Mella
Eden Taylor
Lachlan Taylor
Louise White
“He’s been granted bail. Monitoring bracelet, two patrol cars at all times,” Mitch said beside her.
“Good,” she said, exhaling with relief. Now she could concentrate on the task at hand.
“Bethenny...” Mitch looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, but no one was. The station was mostly empty, with officers either out on patrol or finished for the day.
“Be careful with this case, yeah?” He shook his head. “I don’t know, but something doesn’t feel right about it. I don’t like the fact that the CIA brought in a top lawyer. I know he was supposedly some hotshot operative and he says they’ve done it to keep things quiet, but I can’t help but feel like there’s more to the story than that. I don’t like it,” he said, frowning.
“Neither do I,” Bethenny admitted. “And I don’t like her either, but if she keeps him out of jail—”
Mitch’s phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket, bringing it to his ear.
Bethenny knew the moment his eyes widened that something had happened.
“Send me the coordinates. We’re on our way,” he said before ending the call.
He looked at Bethenny. “A body washed up along the Smithson River in Oradale. The local police got the call, and when officers went to check it out, they realized—even though it’s a long way from the falls—the body might belong to our killer Lachlan chased over the edge.”
Bethenny was reaching for her phone and keys before he finished speaking.
This was the break she needed.
This could crack open the entire case.
“Let’s go,” she said, moving toward the door.
Mitch was right beside her. “I’ll drive,” he said.
Bethenny almost paused to argue the point—did no one think she could drive well? But she didn’t want to waste time arguing, so she said nothing and headed for Mitch’s car.
Once they were on the road, he began talking.
“The body is bloated and decomposing, so the officers can’t give a lot of detail. But the person is male and looks like he’s been submerged for about a week—although it’s difficult to determine at this stage. It’s a long way from where he went over the edge of the cliff, but with the storms we’ve had in the past week, it’s not impossible his body could’ve washed up that far from the falls.”
