The Vargas Cartel Trilogy: Books 1 - 3 by Lisa Cardiff

Author:Lisa Cardiff [Cardiff, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Limitless Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-09-12T23:00:00+00:00

Me: Where are you?

He replied almost immediately.

Evan: Office hours. I’ll be here for another twenty minutes. Why?

Perfect. I wanted to search the apartment before he came home.

Me: At your place. I want to talk.

Evan: Okay. I’ll be home in thirty minutes.

I tossed my phone on the counter.

I didn’t waste a second. I darted into the bedroom. The room looked partially abandoned. Nails littered the wall where I had hung pictures of Evan and me. He had stripped the bedding from the mattress. It didn’t look like he’d moved back into the bedroom after I left. I shrugged, pushing away any emotions. I couldn’t worry about Evan anymore. He sure as hell didn’t care about me.

I flung open the closet doors. I had left some clothes in the bedroom closet, not because I thought I’d be back, but because I didn’t have much room at Vera’s apartment. I stripped off the dress I wore last night and changed into some old jeans and a blouse. I stuffed my dress and a few other clothes into my purse.

After I had finished dressing, I ran into the guest bedroom. Evan used it as his personal study. I flung open every drawer. I didn’t know what I thought I’d find. After all, as of two weeks ago, I shared this study with Evan, but I couldn’t search Senator Deveron’s private files.

Keys.

An empty notepad.

Receipts.

Bills.

Nothing. I propped my elbows on top of the desk, thinking where Evan would keep incriminating evidence. As my eyes scanned the room, I spotted the black leather case of his iPad.

I stared at the keypad, searching the recesses of my memory for clues to Evan’s passcode. I recalled a conversation when he revealed he used birthdays for all of his passcodes. I tried his birthday. My birthday. Then, I tried a combination of our birthdays—eleven and fifteen. It worked. Icons filled the screen.

I scanned through his email looking for anything referencing me. Then, I searched through his folders. One named HWC caught my attention. My initials? Hattie Waverly Covington? Maybe he organized all our correspondence into one folder.

I carried the iPad into the kitchen so Evan wouldn’t surprise me when he came home. Sitting on a chair facing the front door, I touched the screen, opening the HWC folder. As I scrolled down the page, I saw at least fifty emails with subject lines referencing me, but none of them were from me.

I clicked on one from a few days ago.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.