Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Seeing them together is weird as fuck. I feel like a ghost haunting a life I once lived.
I adjust my earpiece when Cameron’s voice filters through the static clear enough for me to note her apprehension. “Here you go.” She hands Macy a takeout container brimming with chicken and rice.
“Oh, poo.” Macy takes in the smeared plate in the sink before lowering her bottom lip into a pout. “I was hoping we could eat together.”
“I’d just finished when you knocked.”
Even with Cameron giving clear signs she wants Macy to leave, she doesn’t. She bumps her hip against the island, her expression casual but persistent. “Have you always known how to cook? I took lessons a while back, but I still burn water.”
Cameron laughs, the jingle tight. “It’s just chicken and rice.”
“That smells fabulous.” Macy often utilizes the ego-stroke ruse. It works well for her, so you can understand my shock when she went straight for the jugular during her interrogation of Samuel. “If you have the recipe on hand, I’d love to return the favor one day.”
“It’s fine.” Cameron dismisses the offer with a wave, then leads to what she’s praying will be Macy’s exit of her apartment. “As I said, it’s just chicken and rice.”
Watching them interact is like having an out-of-body experience. It is haunting and frighteningly beautiful. Cameron is the person I’ve been searching for, the one whose abduction carved my very existence. My job, my life purpose, everything I am is based on how it helped me find Cameron. But Macy was the first person who made me feel alive again. Seeing them side by side is surreal, like two halves of my life colliding in a way that shouldn’t be possible.
As Macy follows Cameron to her front door, she tries to keep their conversation alive. She talks about the weather and a new restaurant she wants to try the next time she visits San Diego. She even mentions the Lamaze class, hoping it might slip Cameron up.
It doesn’t. Cameron isn’t interested in a long conversation. Her expression reveals she’s only seeking one outcome.
She wants Macy gone.
Macy is relentless. She keeps talking, her tone polite but probing. I know her well enough to recognize when she’s fishing, but Cameron doesn’t suspect a thing.
When they reach the foyer of Cameron’s apartment, Macy finally remembers the best part of a fishing expedition—hooking the bait.
“I know a way to repay your generosity that won’t have you worried about food poisoning.” The sheer excitement in Macy’s tone forces Cameron to shift on her feet to face her. “I can sketch you. Maternity sketches are all the rage. They’re far better than a standard shoot, and I have plenty of openings since I’m new to town.”
“You want to sketch me?”
“Yeah.” Macy shrugs. “Why not?”
“Um…” Cameron is lost for a reply. What mother-to-be wouldn’t be? She wants Macy gone, but she’d be a fool to give up an opportunity like this. Maternity sketches cost an arm and a leg. Macy charged four figures per sketch when she used her skills to infiltrate the homes of a handful of Dr. Valdemar’s patients, and the Cameron I knew would never pass up the chance to be the only star under the limelight. “I have a new sketchbook in my apartment. I can do it now.”
“Now?” When Macy nods, Cameron struggles to maintain eye contact. “We don’t have enough time. It’s late.”
Macy clasps her hand like they’re long-lost friends. “I will only do an outline tonight. Then I can fill in the rest at home. It will only take a few minutes.”
“Oh… okay. I guess that’ll be okay.”
Macy appears as surprised as I feel. She just hides it better. “Great. Let me grab my sketchbook. I’ll be right back.”
As she races for the exit faster than I like, I shift my focus to Brandon. “I need somewhere close that sells sketchbooks and charcoal.”
My reply comes from the last person I anticipated. “A local bodega has what you need. Your order will arrive in nine minutes.”
24
MACY
As I gallop down the entryway stairs of Cameron’s apartment, my shoes barely touch the marble stairs. I race toward the surveillance van as adrenaline thickens my veins. I am a live wire, buzzing and sizzling as out of control as my erratic heart rate. Cameron said yes. She agreed to let me sketch her.
It is a trust I didn’t anticipate so early in my latest undercover assignment—or at least the illusion of an undercover sting.
Cool evening air slaps my cheeks when I burst into the alleyway where Grayson parked. The van is where I left it, tucked behind a dumpster, inconspicuous but strumming with quiet purpose.
I yank open the side door and climb in, breathless.
I’m tempted to step back into the salty gusts pummeling the coastline when Grayson cranks his neck my way. His brows are furrowed, and he looks more angry than pleased. I’m clueless as to why. The information I’ve gathered so far today is more valuable than an unmined gold mine. We’re close to unearthing a massive nugget.