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“What do you mean?”
“He was fishing. Fishing for information about Tricia. As much as he was trying to pretend he knew exactly what was going on, he was trying to see if we knew where she was.”
“I heard your end of the conversation. You didn’t give him anything.”
“I have precious little to give.”
“He didn’t get what he wanted.”
“I’ll be back soon. I’m going out on the veranda and get some air.”
She wasn’t out on the veranda for more than a minute before she heard him behind her. His arms slipped around her waist from behind. “You let him have the last word. You should never let an asshole have the last word.”
“I’ll remember that next time.” She leaned back against him. “I was occupied with trying to decide if he did know where Tricia was.”
“Like you said, bluffing.”
“Or trying to lead me totally down the wrong path. It’s hard to tell with a devil like him.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Well, I refuse to worry about it. As far as I’m concerned, he’s nothing but a liar. He only called me to get what information he could. But if he thinks we’re trying to find Tricia, we need to make sure that our phones, our texts, and all of our communications are locked down tight. We can’t let him know anything we’re finding out to track her down.”
“I agree. I have a scanner in my car. I’ll sweep everything for listening devices to make sure we don’t give him any leads.”
“Good. And we’ll find Tricia and keep her safe from him.”
“Fine resolutions. Any others you’d like to share?”
“Yes.” She turned in his arms and held him close. “I’d like to go back to bed and have you hold me again. Will you do that?”
“Absolutely. Any particular reason?”
“He tried to ruin what you gave me tonight. I won’t let him do it. Someone told me you never let an asshole have the last word.”
“He must have been very wise.”
“Every now and then he comes up with a gem.” She nestled her cheek against his chest and then turned and led him toward the veranda doors. “Let’s see if this is one of them.”
***
Milo twisted the disposable flip phone in his hands and broke it in half.
Kendra Michaels didn’t know where Tricia was, he was certain. He could hear the worry in her voice, as much as she tried to hide it.
It didn’t matter; Tricia couldn’t stay hidden for long. The Tricias of the world needed to be center stage, basking in the limelight. In that way, she was like all his other targets.
How sad.
For years, he’d worked with his recruits for their singular mission: to target those pathetic souls who thought they were God’s gift to humanity, just like the arrogant and entitled people he’d grown up with. Over the years, he’d coordinated the killings of young, rising-star politicians, athletes, scientists, and countless others. In all that time, the FBI had failed to identify a pattern because there was always more to the murders than met the eye; without anyone realizing it, he was stealing the world’s future.
Milo smiled. As soon as he was finished with Tricia Walton, he was ready with a new slate of victims. And he’d chosen his next recruit to carry out the tasks.
Exciting times.
***
The call Kendra had been waiting for didn’t come until the next afternoon.
