Burned (Kat Beckman Book 3) by K.J. Kalis

Author:K.J. Kalis [Kalis, K.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BDM, LLC
Published: 2020-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

28

Blake parked the motorbike about a block away from the rug store that Hasan’s family owned. Hasan didn’t know that Blake had any idea where he lived. Blake was smarter than that. After their first meeting, Blake had followed him from a distance. Although Hasan had tried to check for tails, he wasn’t as good as Blake. Eventually, after a few circles around the block, Blake had tailed him to the two-story building.

Downstairs was the storefront selling colorful handmade rugs. Bright and intricate, there were some hung in the window and piles of them laid out in the showroom. Upstairs there was an apartment where Hasan and his family lived. Surveillance told Blake that Hasan’s mother and father weren’t there. He lived with a cousin, the cousin’s wife and their two girls. The cousin and his father ran the rug store. The father lived down the street. Blake had watched Hasan help to unload rugs and carry them into the back of the building from a box truck. Rolled rug, upon rolled rug. Watching them, Blake wondered what was hidden inside of them.

That concern wasn’t for now. Blake had to find Hasan. He had to figure out what had happened and why Hasan had turned on him. At that moment, walking toward the store after stashing the motorbike, Blake realized that he was no longer acting as a CIA agent. He had gone back to his SEAL training. Hasan was now the target.

As he got closer to the rug store, Blake entered a bookstore that was diagonal to the two-story building where he hoped Hasan would be. This part of Cambridge was strange. Where Blake stood was British. When he crossed the street, the people and stores were so Muslim that he almost felt like he was back in the Middle East.

Blake moved through the store like he was looking for something. He had put on a baseball hat and added a light jacket under his backpack. The woman behind the counter eyed him suspiciously. It was time to deal with her concerns head-on. “Excuse me,” he said, approaching the counter, “Where would I find books on what I can see here in Cambridge?”

The woman smiled and stepped out from behind the counter. Her hair was knotted at the back of her neck and she wore a red skirt and matching red flats. “This way, please.” She walked him through two aisles of cookbooks, a stack of newly released fiction and then to a spot right by the window. “Here you are. Anything else?”

Blake shook his head no. He already knew that the travel books were by the window where he wanted to stand. He had just given the woman a reason not to be worried about him standing there watching the street. He pulled a book off the shelf on the history of Cambridge and flipped through it, trying to make a show for the woman who was at the counter. He glanced at the rug shop every few minutes.

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