He had followed his sister from Nyleena’s apartment to the restaurant. The car had crisscrossed through the city as they made stops at different places, getting different things. How much stuff could one person need?
Finally, they pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant. He parked in the free spot directly behind them. He got out and waited, his legs were sore from being in the car that long. Age had brought muscle spasms and cramps. It had slowed his walk, but only a little. Lines had formed in his face, his hair had turned grey at the temples, but not on the rest of his head. A feat considering he was nearly eighty-seven.
However, he’d kept in shape. A small paunch had formed at his mid-section from too many TV dinners, but that was it. No arthritis or dementia, no diseases associated with aging had set into his body. He was slim and not bad looking for a guy his age. The ladies at the VFW’s Friday Night Bingo swooned over him.
The women emerged. The younger one fussing over the movements of the older. He watched his sister for a second, wondering whether to call her name or not. He opted not to. Instead, he drew a gun from a holster on his waist.
“Excuse me,” he said, grabbing both their attention. The gun fired. The younger woman collapsed, blood flowing from her cheek. Bubbles formed as the air escaped her sinus passage. His sister looked shocked. He didn’t know why. He fired at her. She crumbled to the ground.
He walked over, straddling her as she lay bleeding and put a second bullet into her head. He sighed, relief washing over him, he’d done as she asked. He waited another second before getting back into his car and driving away.
The VCU had taken the bait, tracing the call to some place in Maine. He’d been right outside the police department when he’d made the call. He’d watched his favorite granddaughter rush out with her team to track down his sister and her wretched son. He’d watched Malachi Blake leave with his team of federal officers. He’d even waved at the younger man.
The secrets might not have been kept, but he was sure Aislinn and Nyleena wouldn’t tell. And if Nina hadn’t told them, they’d eventually figure out the connection with Tennyson Unger.
Now, he had other business to attend to. Business that would require him to cross the state again. He’d gotten a lead on the sniper that Aislinn was desperate to catch. A friendly visit to the man wouldn’t hurt, at least it wouldn’t hurt him. It might hurt for the sniper.