Thin Ice by Irene Hannon

Author:Irene Hannon [Hannon, Irene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042060, FIC042040, FIC027110, Women police chiefs—Fiction, Murder—Investigation—Fiction
ISBN: 9781493401697
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2015-11-10T16:00:00+00:00

Nathan ran his finger over the curving edge of the pewter Arch on the keychain, looked up at the autographed photo tacked to his bulletin board, and smiled.

Things were going well.

Very well.

Sitting in his cold car near Christy’s condo hadn’t been a great way to spend his Saturday morning, but watching her come out to retrieve her mail had made all the uncomfortable hours worthwhile. He might not have been able to identify his letter through the binoculars, but her expression had confirmed its arrival. Distress, fear, dread, surprise . . . all the emotions he’d wanted her to feel had been on display for the world to see.

He wrapped his fingers around the cool pewter ornament and squeezed it tight.

Best of all, every one of those emotions would be magnified next week, when his careful months of planning paid off and she found out what her abandonment all those years ago had wrought. That revelation would bring her to her knees.

He could almost taste the . . .

A door creaked open in the hall, and he tuned into the noise. Shuffling steps sounded on the worn carpet. Another door clicked shut.

The old woman had gone to the bathroom.

He set the keychain down and picked up a broken wire hanger, poking at the mouse in the box at his feet through the wire mesh over the top.

Mevlida had been quiet lately. Responding to his comments but never initiating conversations. Staying in her room instead of coming out to watch TV. Was she sick and keeping it to herself? Were her ribs hurt worse than she was letting on?

Possibly.

He’d been clear since she arrived that he couldn’t afford a bunch of medical bills. That if her health deteriorated, he’d throw her back on the street.

But she was getting older and more decrepit. One of these days she’d develop some condition that required attention—and he didn’t want her talking to anyone who might ask nosey questions about their arrangement.

He jabbed the mouse again.

Once this was over, he’d have to decide what to do about her. The government money, plus having her under his total control, was nice—but that would be less important if he got the promotion at work. And he had a decent chance at it. He knew how to play the game, how to be Mr. Nice Guy when it suited him. His boss liked him. Everyone there did.

Yes, the old woman was a problem—but he could worry about her after he finished carrying out his plan for Christy. For now, he wasn’t going to let anything hamper his enjoyment of this long-overdue payoff.

He cornered the mouse, a shiver of anticipation slithering through him as he blocked its frantic efforts to escape. Christy would try to escape too—but she wouldn’t be any more successful than this rodent.

It would be just like the day soldiers had destroyed his family—only in reverse.

Because he’d learned his lesson well.

People in power decided who lived and died . . . and now it was his turn to take control.

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