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“Do you have any idea how many nonprofits are smoke-and-mirrors operations designed to provide cover for bad actors?” Luke asked.
“I won’t be alone. There will be other guests and a staff and a daily ferry service.”
Luke glanced at his phone, frowning. “A chartered ferry service, apparently.”
“So?”
“We’re not talking about the state ferry system. A charter operation runs on demand. It has to be booked in advance.”
“Listen to me, Luke Rand. A woman has been kidnapped, but we can’t go to the police, because we have absolutely zero proof. At best they would let us file a missing persons report. You read her note. She thinks her life is in danger, and that retreat is the only lead we’ve got.”
“I told you, I’ll check out the island,” he said.
“Not on your own. I’m going, too. What’s this all about? I thought you had seen the light.”
“What light? Are you referring to that oncoming train?”
“We agreed that we would work together.”
“We agreed to exchange information. That’s different.”
“No, it’s not.” She turned to watch the server approach with a tray. “Oh, good, here comes breakfast. Wait until you taste the biscuits. Perfect texture. They use real butter and they make sure to keep it very cold. That’s one of the secrets, you see.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” he said.
“I sense sarcasm.”
“Probably because you’re psychic.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Luke Rand wasalive. Not only that, he appeared to be stable.
The assassin sat behind the wheel of the rental car and studied the photo on the phone. There was no doubt. The man who had appeared at Hatch’s house and was now having coffee with the podcast woman was the failure from the last round of experiments. The fact that he had survived was amazing; that he was not insane was even more astounding.
The assassin hit send and texted the photo with a single comment.
Instructions?
There was a pause. The assassin knew the individual who had just received the picture verifying the identity of the buyer was taking a moment to process the shock—but only a moment.
The instructions came through a short time later.
Terminate
With pleasure.
The excitement that accompanied the anticipation of the kill was phenomenal. The only thing that surpassed it was the rush that came in the aftermath of a successful hit.
CHAPTER NINE
So, you havea problem with podcasts that focus on the paranormal but you don’t doubt the reality of paranormal energy and psychic talents?” Talia asked around a mouthful of biscuit slathered in butter.
She was going back to that topic? Luke reached for his coffee mug and gave himself a beat to compose his response. The process of trying to get a handle on Talia March was turning out to involve a steep learning curve. He had known her for less than two hours and he was already losing ground.
“I have a problem with podcasts that sensationalize the paranormal,” he said, going for his seminar tone.
Talia aimed her knife at him. “The Lost Night Filesdoes not sensationalize the paranormal. We don’t operate like that ridiculousAnomalies Reportblog.”
