Sign of Evil (Shannon Ames Book 3) by T.J. BREARTON

Author:T.J. BREARTON [BREARTON, T.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Inkubator Books
Published: 2021-01-23T16:00:00+00:00

Tyler agreed to send someone over to Victoria Greaney’s house.

“They need to be watched twenty-four seven,” Shannon said to him on the phone.

“Okay. I heard you. We’ll make it happen.”

“I think this is what he does. He finds sex workers he can leverage. Ones who are susceptible to him. Ones with children he can threaten to hurt if they don’t go along with him.”

She watched Candy, her mascara streaked from crying, looking broken and scared in the interview room. Gorgas was still interviewing, asking her to describe the knife in detail.

Tyler said, “We’re not seeing prints from other sex workers in the victims’ cars.”

“There was one vehicle that had prints from another worker.”

Tyler paused. “You’re right. I stand corrected.”

Shannon left the viewing room and moved down the hallway. “And there may be other victims we haven’t found yet. Or this could be him trying to get someone else he can use now that Everly is off the street.”

As she spoke, her phone beeped in her ear – an incoming call. But she wanted to finish her conversation with Tyler. “You see what I mean? They’re his way to the victims.”

Shannon’s phone vibrated, this time it was a text. Tyler was in mid-response, but she cut him off. “Hang on, sir, someone is really trying to get a hold of me…”

Jenna Reese had called. Then she’d texted Urgent.

“Agent Tyler? I gotta go.”

Tyler seemed distracted. “I’m seeing it too. Someone trying to reach you directly through the hotline…”

“Call you back.”

She got on with Reese next, who explained it: “I’ve got someone on the line for you, Agent Ames. He called the hotline with information but said he’d only give it to you.”

Her heart picked up a little speed. “Okay, put him through.”

“He says his name is Cormac Rand.”

“Cormac Rand?” It was the name of the second-to-last victim.

“I’m connecting you now.”

Shannon stared out at the city, waiting, her heart picking up its rhythm. She walked toward the bank of windows overlooking downtown Manhattan, the bridges crossing into Brooklyn, a slice of the Atlantic Ocean. A door opened behind her, and Bufort walked out, frowning at his phone. He opened his mouth and looked at Shannon as she held up a finger – hang on.

Then someone was breathing in her ear. She’d been connected.

“Agent Ames,” a male voice said.

“Mr. Rand? You asked for me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I did.”

She waited.

“I wanted to talk to you. It will just take a minute. Just the two of us.”

Shannon snapped her fingers and pointed to her phone, nodding. Bufort got the hint. She had a recording app but didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the call. Bufort activated the recorder on his own phone and held it close. Shannon quickly put her phone on speaker mode. “Sure. Of course we can talk. Who are you?”

“I’m Mr. Rand. Mr. Whatever. And I want to talk to you – but, please. Just you. Can you take me off speaker?”

Due to the echo in the hallway, perhaps, her voice had changed quality.

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