Terminal Vendetta (A Diana Weick Thriller Book 3) by Cate Clarke (book suggestions .txt) 📕

and often wore loose-fitting T-shirts and dresses to keep her body under wraps.

“Uh, well...” Christina cleared her throat, trying to glance over Kennedy’s shoulder at what she was doing. Kennedy stepped in front of her, staring at her, bringing her gaze back down. “Your uncle and I are going to the movies. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“You could have just sent a text,” Kennedy muttered.

“Yeah, but I hadn’t seen you all day and…” Christina pointed to the desk. “What’s that there?”

Kennedy replied, “Homework.”

Pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows, Christina said, “Look, honey. I know you’ve been through a lot. Maybe you should come with us to the movies? You can just relax and not think about any of this stuff for a little while.”

“What movie?” Kennedy furrowed her brow, tapping her socked feet against the carpet.

“That new John Krasinki one…. The guy from The Office.”

“Seen it,” Kennedy said.

“What?”

“Saw it last week with my friends.” There was a small awkward pause before Kennedy added, “Is that it? Sorry, I got a lot of schoolwork to do.”

Christina raised her hand like she was about to touch Kennedy, something she rarely did. She seemed to decide against it, lowering it and making it into a stiff thumbs-up instead. Without waiting for another reply or attempt to talk about their problems, Kennedy softly closed the door.

“Bye!” Christina called from the other side.

“See ya,” Kennedy replied, immediately going back to the letter.

Christina was trying. That was new. None of this was her fault. After getting back from London and recovering from the explosion at the funeral, Kennedy had isolated herself. She had just gone back to school a couple of days ago, and the return had been absolutely terrible. Everyone, teachers included, looked at her like she was either about to suddenly burst into tears or strangle them. It was so annoying.

So annoying that Kennedy had skipped class yesterday just to avoid those looks. And when she’d gotten the letter, it had just given her another justification for it.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Kennedy called the emergency number. The last time she’d used it was right before Ratanake and Mrs. Babich had been killed.

“Kennedy,” Mom answered from the other side of the phone. “You okay?”

“Yup.”

“Did you—” There was a mumbled pause. “What’s up, honey?”

“You got a letter,” Kennedy said, putting the phone on speaker so she could send the picture of it through. She couldn’t be sure if she had all the details right because of how slanted and messy the writing was.

“What is this?” her mom said, probably struggling with talking on the phone and looking at a picture message at the same time.

“It’s from that guy… the one you used to work with,” Kennedy said. “I think it’s important.”

“You just opened it up, hey?”

“Well…” Kennedy clutched the back of her office chair. “Is it important?”

“Yeah. It is.” Her mom covered the receiver again, more muttered secrets. “Laird always finds a way to stay involved.”

“He was talking about the guys that blew up the funeral, right?”

Ignoring Kennedy’s question, her mom said, “Kennedy, you’ve got to do me a favor.”

“Anything, Mom.”

And Kennedy meant that. She also needed to feel involved somehow.

“Burn that letter. Get rid of it, okay?”

“Sure.”

More muttering.

“Mom?” Kennedy asked.

“Yeah, honey?”

There was a short silence as Kennedy took a deep breath in and out of her nose, fighting back the welling in her throat and pushing down the knots in her stomach.

“I miss you.” Kennedy wiped at the sides of her eyes, sitting down on the edge of her bed. The blankets pooled under her one hand, squeezing the comforter that she and Mom had bought together last year at Ikea. Back when Mom was in between fighting off terrorists and was training meatheads at the gym instead. Kennedy didn’t miss that. But she missed the mom she could spend time with. She missed her brother. She missed her father.

Kennedy was absolutely alone.

“Oh, Kennedy,” her mom cooed, her voice changing as if she had stepped somewhere more private. “I miss you too, more than you could ever know. Things here… they aren’t good. I’m doing my best but there are a lot of unknowns right now. You sending this letter helps so much, okay? You did exactly what you should have done. I’m going to be home soon, and we’re going to be a family again. Whatever that means for us.”

“I miss Wes and Dad too,” Kennedy said quietly, thinking this may be one of the only times she felt safe and vulnerable enough to say it out loud.

“Me too,” Mom replied and sighed into the phone. “Are you back at school now?”

“Christina took me back a couple of days ago.”

“How’s that going?”

“Terrible.”

“Do your best,” Mom said. “You keep your head down. No fear. Understood?”

“No fear.”

“I love you, Kennedy.”

“I love you too.”

“Burn the letter.”

“Understood.”

Chapter 17

Diana Weick

Dawson City, Yukon

As soon as Diana was off the phone with Kennedy, she sat down on the edge of the motel bed to look at the picture of the letter. Her eyes scanned quickly across the screen, Amber pacing in front of her, waiting for her to pass it to him.

“So they wanted Hoagland out of the picture…” Amber said as she passed the phone to him and he read through Laird’s letter. “Because they couldn’t get through his security. But these other candidates, Axtell and Stone, would give them the opportunity to get into the Veteran Benefits Administration…”

“But why?” Diana asked.

“Call Laird?”  Amber suggested.

“Shit,” Diana muttered.

Laird was trying to cover his ass by disclosing the information that he had, but this disclosure didn’t change the things he’d done and was doing for the Readers. They were paying him off. Diana had been to that farm in Texas years ago and it had been run-down then—she couldn't imagine how it looked now. He did need the money. Still, there were different ways to approach this than teaming up with Cameron Snowman and Zabójca.

The letter was simple—it really only said what Laird was doing