Faceless (Sinister Secrets Book 2) by Candle Sutton (best motivational novels txt) 📕

the elevator to the ground level and exited the building.

“He’s lying.” Caldwell hit the unlock button on his key fob and rounded to the driver’s side.

“I thought so, too.” Dak stopped on the passenger side of Caldwell’s SUV and assessed him. “You think he knows something about the abduction?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Lacing his fingers together, Caldwell leaned on the hood. “I sense dishonesty. Can’t say if it’s about Jason Boggess, Taylor’s motives, or something else altogether.”

And that was the problem. While they could read duplicity, they didn’t know what he was lying about.

“Let’s just say that I’m not closing the investigation yet. There’s more going on here and I’m going to figure out what.”

Dak nodded. “Well, I appreciate you letting me tag along tonight.”

With a somber nod, Caldwell climbed into the driver’s side and started the engine.

Time to head home.

Man, was he looking forward to sitting back and relaxing.

His phone vibrated again.

That’s right. He hadn’t looked at the text from Kevyn. And now, apparently, he had another text to read.

He unlocked the screen and accessed his texts.

The most recent was another from Sid, indicating that it appeared Divers was in for the night and he was returning to where he’d left Kevyn.

A chill rocketed through his core.

Left Kevyn? Why weren’t they together?

That was the whole point of sending two of them on a stakeout!

He quickly accessed the message from Kevyn.

A picture of a stocky man, walking through what looked like a dockyard, popped up. The man’s back was to him, so he couldn’t make out any facial features.

The message beneath the photo froze his blood.

This guy talked to me at the coffeeshop 2 days ago. Following him to see why he’s here.

₪   ₪   ₪

Kevyn’s pulse drummed inside her head. The hairs on the back of her neck tingled.

While she itched to look back around the shipping container to see what that guy was up to, she didn’t dare. If he had heard her, or thought he saw her, she’d only provide confirmation.

She stole down the side of the container to the opposite corner. Pulling in a breath, she cautiously peered around the corner.

No one.

She edged around and approached the front corner.

She stopped to listen.

Water lapped against the pier. A truck engine growled faintly in the distance. A low horn sounded across the water.

No voices. No footsteps.

If he was still there, and if he was watching, he was perfectly silent.

She crouched down, trying to avoid being at head-level, and cautiously eased her head out enough to see around the corner.

There he was! Doing something on his phone.

Texting? Or looking something up?

Alarms blared in her head.

That was a weird place to stop to mess with your phone. Especially if he thought someone was following him.

Not that she knew he thought that, but she couldn’t afford to take the chance.

Something wasn’t right. She could feel it like she felt the salt breeze on her face.

She needed to get out of here.

She pulled her gun, angling it toward the asphalt beneath her feet.

The weapon would draw attention, but right now, drawing attention was less important than getting away alive.

She scanned the surrounding buildings. One clearly labeled as a canning factory, one labeled as a shipping company, and five others without clear indicators of what they were. At least two of those five looked abandoned.

They were at the end of the pier, so it’d be easy to find her way back here later.

With backup, after researching the businesses around her.

For now, it was time to go.

She slipped back down the side of the container, then darted across an open area to where three other containers sat.

A glance behind her confirmed no one in sight.

If Coffeeshop Man was up to something, it didn’t seem to include following her.

She forced her breathing to slow.

Keep walking. Act normal.

A shoe scuffed nearby.

Plastering her back against the shipping container, she held her breath and strained to listen.

A seagull squawked as it swooped overhead.

Three others trotted on the asphalt, eyeing her with interest.

Looking for handouts no doubt.

She hoped that whoever had made that scuffing noise didn’t pay any attention to the nuisance birds.

Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other, her eyes constantly scanning the area in front of and behind her.

Nothing.

But that didn’t mean there wasn’t someone there.

In fact, the absolute silence made her think that not only was someone there, they were hunting her.

She should text for help. Sid, Dak, someone on the team. Get them to send backup ASAP.

But that would take time, time she may not have.

No, best to get a little distance between herself and the threat, then ring for backup.

She neared the corner of the shipping container.

Was someone there? Waiting for her to get close enough to strike?

The cloudy sky prevented the sun from casting shadows.

Both a blessing and a curse. While it prevented her own shadow from giving her away, it also kept her from seeing anyone else’s shadow, too.

Her heartbeat pummeled her ribs.

What should she do?

Well, she couldn’t stand here all night. Every passing second increased the chances that she’d be discovered.

She took another step forward.

One of the seagulls hopped closer.

As long as it was the only thing moving closer, she was fine with that.

Another few steps and she’d be at the edge of the container. The next hiding place, a semitruck with an attached trailer, was probably ten meters away.

Run.

Yes, it might draw attention, but no more attention than the weapon in her hands.

It would also make her a harder target for someone to hit if they tried to shoot her.

She pulled