Deserves to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli) - Page 71

“You know, Anne-Marie.” The pale woman seemed so certain of herself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessica lied.

Grace’s lips twisted into a disbelieving smile, but she didn’t argue. Instead, in a voice without inflection, she said, “You’re no longer safe. Trust no one.”

“Lady—” Jessica began in protest.

Grace struck as quickly as a snake, her hand streaking forward, her fingers wrapping over Jessica’s forearm.

Jessica gasped and dropped the box holding her pizza. “Let go of me!”

“No one,” Grace repeated then released her grasp.

Neither dog so much as glanced at the cardboard container though the lid had popped open, pizza slices jumbling together.

Freak, Jessica thought. Weirdo! Her pulse raced, fear and adrenaline pumping through her blood as she picked up the ruined pizza.

She glanced back as Grace added, “Remember. Not a soul.”

Jessica stood up, shaken. “Okay.”

To the dogs, Grace ordered softly, “Sheena. Bane. Come.” Then she walked across the street and disappeared into the darkness of an alley.

Her appetite gone, Jessica hurried to her vehicle. She tossed the box onto the passenger seat. How did that woman know my name and what the hell was she prattling on about danger? How could she know? How the hell could she know?

Fingers shaking, nerves stretched to the breaking point, Jessica hustled into the driver’s seat and started the Chevy. The smell of pepperoni, garlic, and onion was nearly overpowering.

Now, of course, she saw others on the street—two guys hanging out by the pub, smoking near the doorway; the couple she’d seen in the pizzeria huddling close together as they made their way to a sedan parked just around the corner from Dino’s; a Prius cruising past in electric mode. Where had they been during her exchange with Grace?

She started to pull onto the street and was rewarded with a blast of a loud horn. She jumped, hit the brakes, and watched as a Jeep painted in camouflage nearly clipped her. The driver with a shaved head and a furious glare looked across the passenger seat and flipped up his palm as if to say, Stupid woman driver! Watch out!

Once the Jeep had passed, she pulled out and drove, checking her rearview mirror every five seconds, trying not to be rattled, telling herself that no one was following her. Yet, despite all her internal pep talks, the weird woman’s warning echoed through her brain.

Trust no one.

Chapter 19

“I found her.” Lying on his bed in his room at the

River View, his cell phone pressed against his ear, Ryder stared at his computer monitor. The grainy black and white image was clear enough to observe Anne-Marie as she slept restlessly on the old couch in her cabin. He watched as “Jessica,” or, really, Anne-Marie, tossed and turned, her pistol tucked under her pillow, her sleep broken and tortured. He felt more than one niggle of guilt for observing her every move, but he reminded himself it was just a job, nothing more.

At least, that’s the level to which it had dissolved.

“You’re sure it’s her?” the voice on the other end asked, the slight Louisianan accent discernible.

“Oh, yeah.” Shifting, the back of his head moving against the stacked pillows, Ryder nodded as if the SOB on the other end of the wireless connection could actually see him.

“Why haven’t you finished the job?”

Good question. “I had to be certain. Now I am.”

“Then get to it.”

“I will, when the time is right. She should have a day or two off work.”

“She works?” A sneer in the voice.

“She’s a waitress.”

Tags: Lisa Jackson Mystery
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