The Harborside Killer by Katy Pierce

Author:Katy Pierce [Pierce, Katy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Pulling the seat lever and plunging backward, Carlee took a deep breath and counted to five before she peeked over the steering wheel. Somehow, she hadn’t been seen.

“Real fucking inconspicuous, Carlee,” she muttered at herself, bringing her seat back up. “Tail a person of interest in a bright red muscle car. Real fucking smart. God, I hate this rental.”

Making a mental note to exchange the flashy bucket of bolts she was currently driving around for an old beater car that barely passed inspection, Carlee pulled out her binoculars and swept over the slow-moving traffic of downtown Chicago.

“Today is going to be a long fucking day…” She sighed, watching a suit-wearing woman—her target—walk into a donut shop laden with Halloween decorations. “I could’ve dressed up like Dracula and stood out less than this damn car.”

She focused the binoculars inside the shop, which was packed to the brim with a snaking fifteen-minute line. Irritated and unwilling to wait, she grabbed her bag from the passenger seat, took out one of her drones—the six-footed chameleon she affectionately called Cassy—and popped her door open, placing it on the pavement.

“All right, Miss Mandy Perkins…” Carlee grabbed the controls. “You’ve been breathing down my neck, taking candid shots of me—and not pretty ones, either. It’s time to find out what you’ve been up to.”

She piloted Cassy through the parking lot, taking care to keep the drone under parked cars and away from traffic, moving steadily up to the nice SUV Mandy had just exited. A child walking down the sidewalk in a too-big peacock costume, its tail swishing on the ground, provided the perfect cover for Carlee to pilot Cassy the rest of the way.

“Damn, I love Halloween,” Carlee said as she kept Cassy’s movements in time with the child’s, smiling at the cute way the feathered tail bounced. “Thanks for the assist, kiddo.”

It made a certain sick kind of sense that this holiday would be the backdrop for a mission involving her least favorite thing: ghoulish murder journalists.

When Cassy was close to the SUV, Carlee hit the appropriate button, and the drone’s electro-magnet activated, snapping her to the car’s underbelly. She’d now know everywhere Mandy went, and Cassy’s sophisticated listening suite would pick up any phone call she made while driving.

Not that she intended to let a drone have all the fun today. She had cleared her schedule precisely to keep tabs on Mandy herself. It had taken three days and no small amount of effort to get this far, and she intended to do as much work personally as she could.

After reading the salacious article, it quickly became apparent that the author was not the young, handsome amateur sleuth on the site’s “about me” page, which claimed he “worked hard to beat the cases the cops couldn’t.” That handsome young sleuth, Carlee knew from experience, didn’t exist—he was merely a glamorous face to hide the real blog team operating from the shadows. In order to narrow down potential suspects, she had to work

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