Already Gone (A Laura Frost FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1) by Blake Pierce (e book reader TXT) 📕

were you last night?” Lauraasked, switching tactics. They could get to the bottom of this easily. Eitherhe had an alibi, or he was guilty.

“I was at home.” Dockhand paused,looking at his own hands. He moved them slightly, picking at a bit of looseskin on his thumb. Was that a tell? “On my own.”

“Not really an alibi, is it?” Nate spokeup for the first time, grunting.

“Not an alibi at all,” Laura said, hervoice hard. “And the night before last?”

“I was watching TV on my own, at home,every night this week,” Dockhand said, taking care of her next question aswell. “I know. It’s not proof. But I live alone and I’m not going out afterwork. I’m sober and I don’t want to get into anything again. I just… ask meabout what I’ve been watching. Go on. I can tell you anything you need to know.Or—you can access my viewing records, right? See what I’ve streamed?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Nate toldhim. “You could have set it up to run and then left home, and got back beforeyou ever needed to press another button.”

Dockhand sighed. Miserable, notimpatient or angry. “All right. But that’s where I was and what I was doing. Iswear.”

“Do you hate me?” Laura snapped. “Isthat what this is? I put you away for years. You must have missed so much. Doyou want to hurt me with this?”

Dockhand blinked at her. “No,” he said. “Ihaven’t even thought about you for years.”

Laura sat back in her chair, studyinghim. He didn’t look up at her. He looked, strangely, contrite. But that couldeasily be an act. She’d come across psychos before now that were able topretend convincingly enough.

But this one… she wasn’t so sure. He wastotally different from how she remembered. He had been hot-headed back then,always ready to scream abuse and insults at anyone who crossed him. But acoward, otherwise. And now he was so meek, so quiet, just sitting there andaccepting the accusations as if they didn’t matter.

The only reason Laura could think of fora man to act that way would be if he truly was innocent. Even if he wassupremely confident that he wouldn’t be caught, Laura would have expectedarrogance, flippancy, not calm and quiet.

She wanted it to be him. She wanted itbadly. If it was him, then their work was done. They’d caught the killer,brought him off the streets, prevented any more women from being murdered. Butjust because she wanted a thing to be true didn’t make it so. One of the key tenetsof being a good FBI agent was to keep your mind open, to avoid hemming yourselfin to one theory. If you blinded yourself, you wouldn’t be able to see thetruth.

Was that what was happening here? Lauraknew she hadn’t had any new visions, even when she’d touched him to put thecuffs on. Sitting here opposite him now, she felt nothing. Did that mean thathe wasn’t the killer? That she was touching the wrong things, putting herselfin the path of the wrong people?

Of course, it could just have meant thatthey did have the right guy. No more visions because there were no morekillings to come. It was over.

On the other hand, it could mean thatshe was now so far off base with her guess at who the killer was, that she hadundone all of her earlier work and put herself at too much of a distance for avision to come.

There was only one thing Laura knew forcertain. They couldn’t let him go until they were sure he was innocent. Whichmeant that they were only just getting started with the mind games.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

He loitered in the doorway of a store,pretending to look at the window display, waiting for his next victim to passhim by on their way to lunch.

A man, this time. He’d thought, backwhen he planned all of this, that it was the right time to vary the pattern.Let them get absolutely sure it was only women who were at risk, and then takea man instead. That would put them all at a loss. He’d thought, back then, thatit would be just a random agent keeping track of his misdoings. By the timethis one was done, though, they would surely have made the connection and sentfor her.

How lucky that she had been the one tocome right away. That he had been able to savor every moment of her failure tocatch him.

He had spent weeks preparing for this,and now he knew every moment of these people’s schedules. He even had reminderson his phone. It was noon, and that meant that his next target was heading tothe same bakery that he always stopped at, picking up one of his favoritesandwiches for lunch before moving on to the park.

Did he vary his routine when wintercame? The watcher could only wonder. He hadn’t been following them for thatlong. And it wouldn’t matter now, anyway. After tonight, this man would bedead, and he would never be going anywhere for lunch again.

The reminders on his phone were thinningout rather nicely now. It was so rewarding to delete them all one by one, tothink about that FBI agent tearing her hair out as she tried to find the linkbetween all of it. He liked to think of her, despairing, no idea who was goingto be next. It was all rather fun.

The only unfortunate thing was that hecouldn’t see her reaction in person. He had no idea whether Frost had yetworked out that it was all linked to her. He would have loved to have seen the fearon her face when she made the realization. Maybe she already had. Maybe itwouldn’t happen until much later. Until the number of dead bodies piled up inher name made her collapse with despair.

Yes, that would be sweet. How he wouldlove to see her life ruined, the way his had been. How he would love to get hisrevenge.

The watcher caught a glimpse of areflection passing by him, and he turned casually as if he was done withlooking into the window. He stepped out into the street, shielding his eyes againstthe midday