Christina Pines sat at another bar in another town, looking for all the world, like she was sipping at a scotch. She swirled the dark liquid in her glass and appeared to be talking to no one.
She was getting closer.
She liked bar patrons. It was easier to erase herself from their minds when they were already liquor-hazed. The day drinkers were a wealth of information. And, for the first time, someone had seen Dr. Marks less than twenty-four hours earlier.
Good, she thought.
She'd considered calling GJ Jansen and asking what she knew about her grandfather, but it seemed wrong to press GJ for information that could easily end with her beloved grandfather getting killed.
Christina had met the youngest agent often enough to know that it wouldn’t be something she’d want to be part of, but she’d feel obligated to tell what she knew. Hunting her grandfather had been hard enough the first time around. Christina considered squeezing information out of GJ and then erasing the conversation from the other agent’s mind, but she wasn’t ready to go that far yet.
This time, Christina saw no other end for Dr. Murray Marks than death. They'd captured him once. Six months ago, he’d disappeared from prison.
Three weeks ago, Christina had disappeared, too.
Being solo was her default setting these days. Christina wasn't one much for partners in the first place, and having finally found one she trusted, it had been beyond difficult to lose Dana Brantley in the line of duty just a year ago. The two little shits that had been responsible for Dana's death had met their own end not much later. But the fact that they were both gone didn't change Christina's need for revenge.
She knew exactly what she was doing.
Heading out the back door, she aimed for the shadows at the side of the building where she’d left her car. She’d picked this spot in part for the location—it backed up to the woods and lacked security cameras.
She was getting close.
Though she'd always believed Marks was headed to the de Gottardi/Little compound, she was now certain of it. She pulled open the door to her car and was about to climb in when a movement just off to her left caught her attention.
A noise made her jump back. Using the car door as a shield between her and the stand of shifty trees, she looked around and saw nothing. It was probably a raccoon. But just as she had that thought, two spots of blue light caught her attention, and she recognize them for what they were: eyes.
Not a raccoon.
Moving slowly toward her with a sway that suggested a four-footed gait, the eyes slowly became clearer, as did the outline of the creature that owned them.
Oh my god, Christina thought in awe. It’s a wolf.