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Jackson needed to find out what they were hiding.
“Have you coordinated the next meeting?” John asked.
“Yes, tomorrow. Midday,” Jackson responded.
“Good. That’s very good.” John stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “Be careful, Jackson. Trust no one.”
The words were like a punch to his stomach and he swallowed the lump in his throat.
Did that mean not to trust John and the FBI?
Jackson exhaled a long breath as he remained at the bar, turning the whiskey glass with his fingertips.
“Another?” the bartender asked.
Jackson pushed the glass away. “No, thank you.” He paid the bill and left, looking over his shoulder, feeling eyes on him with every step.
He’d never felt more alone.
He’d never felt more motivated.
ANNA
Anna wove through the markets, stopping at various stands, as she did weekly. Today she took her time, pretending to browse through items, assessing the situation. Anger boiled in her chest like a pot ready to overflow.
She didn’t appreciate being followed by Diaz... his lack of trust. An oxymoron, for sure, because her intentions toward him were not good, but he didn’t know that.
Her anger was unjustified, but it simmered anyway.
Jackson could help her get answers, but until then, she would help herself. It was time to take matters into her own hands and remind Diaz why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place.
She moved on from the stall, slowly, discreetly making her way toward the food trucks. She stopped to purchase a coffee and a hot cinnamon donut. She could live on them and nothing else for the rest of her life.
With coffee in one hand and sugar in the other, she made her way toward the restrooms. She walked slowly, wanting to savor every last bite before she needed both hands free. Once the donut was demolished, she scrunched up the paper bag, threw it in the trash, and drank the last of her coffee. She was fueled and ready.
She looked over her shoulder, spotting the five men who had been following her all morning. She made eye contact with them then darted behind the restrooms, watching them just long enough to make sure they were following her.
Her heart raced a little faster as she ran toward the hedge maze. She knew this maze—growing up, she’d played in it every week with Olivia. Her mother had been a vendor here on weekends, and they’d come with her to help set up then spend the rest of the day playing in the maze. Anna knew every turn, every exit, and every hidden door in the hedges. And now she’d use this to her advantage.
She ran into the hedges that were twice her height, and for a moment felt like a child again—the child who had woken up every morning with no idea of the carnage coming to visit her family.
Anna sprinted forward, needing to put enough distance between her and Diaz’s men. There were three she knew of, but there could be more. She’d find out soon enough.
She stopped at the first hedge-covered door, unlatching it and sliding into the hedge. Anna and Olivia had discovered these as children; apparently, they were made to allow easy access in and out of the maze for maintenance and emergency purposes. Today was an emergency of sorts, and as she crouched down, calming her breath, she listened to the approaching footsteps and counted how many men ran straight past her.
Three.
Why were Diaz’s men following her? What had tipped him off?
Or had his worry become so paranoid that he had men following everyone close to him?
She shook her head. He didn’t have enough men for that. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t recognize any of the men following her today. Where had Diaz recruited them?
She didn’t know, and she didn’t have time to ask questions.
Nor was she in the mood for talking.
When no more footsteps followed, Anna slid out of the hedge, closing the door behind her. She crept forward, moving as quickly as she could, keeping toward the right side of the maze. That was the trick with most mazes: if you always kept your right hand on the hedge, you’d find your way out.
