The Last Justice: A Suspenseful Legal Thriller With a Shock Ending by Finlay Alex

Author:Finlay, Alex [Finlay, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller
ISBN: 9781800245365
Amazon: B097FBDVQN
Goodreads: 113987829
Publisher: Head of Zeus -- an Aries Book
Published: 2021-06-10T07:00:00+00:00

33.

11:10 a.m.

Watergate Hotel, Washington, D.C.

McKenna and Kate stood near a maid cart outside the hotel room of the man with the mustache they had followed last night. McKenna put his ear to the door.

“I don’t hear anyone inside,” he whispered.

A man came out of a room across the hall and, as he passed by, turned and looked, his glance lingered as if he were seeing an old friend whose name he couldn’t remember.

A maid came out of a room, and Kate called her over. “Could I trouble you to please let us in our room? My silly husband forgot our key card.” She smiled endearingly at McKenna.

The maid hesitated for a moment, but let them in.

They entered cautiously and, satisfied that no one was in the room, began a hurried search.

“Look for anything with a name on it,” McKenna said. He started in the closet, where a garment bag hung from a hook on the door. He rifled it but found nothing. Noticing a small duffel bag at the foot of the bed, he opened the top zipper—again, nothing. Kate, meanwhile, was rummaging through the drawers of an armoire, searching for the hotel bill or anything that might help identify the man.

“I’m not seeing anything,” she whispered. “We could just ask the front desk.”

McKenna continued searching the duffel, unzipping the front pocket where he found a manila envelope. Inside was a small flat sleeve for a computer CD. He pulled it out. “Got something,” he said. In black marker on the CD’s sleeve was written “CJK/JC.”

They were startled by the sound of the door opening, and darted inside the nearest closet. McKenna grabbed the hanging garment bag, using it to pull the door closed. Squatting on their heels in the dark closet, they watched the shadows under the door as someone moved about the room.

The light under the closet door darkened—someone stood directly outside. McKenna and Kate held their breath, trying not to make a sound.

The closet door opened, and they heard an alarmed shriek. They both darted past the frightened maid and out of the room. Minutes later, they walked out of the hotel, toward where McKenna had parked the motorcycle near the Watergate visitors’ lot. Sirens were headed toward them—nothing unusual in the District. But as the wails grew louder, they quickened their stride.

“You did turn the cell phone off, right?” Kate asked, worried that the signal had been tracked.

“Yeah, I made sure.”

They rode out of the lot as a dark sedan with a glowing blue siren on its dash came to a quick stop at the hotel entrance. McKenna tried to look casual as he eased away from the curb and merged onto New Hampshire Avenue as several dark sedans passed by. One of the cars, however, broke away and swerved around after them.

McKenna shifted gears and gunned it as Kate tightened her hold around his waist, and they heard the honking and sirens recede behind them. More sirens, however, were coming from the east on I Street.

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