A STRANGER'S GAME excerpt
A STRANGER’S GAME "How the hell did you get in here?” Breed demanded. Grace found herself facing a Glock that was locked and loaded. She was sitting at Breed’s kitchen table in his condo in Austin. It had been a tossup whether he would show up here, or at the ranch he owned with Jack McKinley, when he returned home after the Victims for Vengeance meeting. She’d guessed right. She put her hands up to show she was no threat to Breed and said, “I broke in.” “Why?” “I need your help.” “You’re wanted for questioning by the FBI. You’re a convicted felon in violation of your parole. The only help you’re going to get from me is a ride to federal lockup. You will not pass GO, you will not collect two hundred dollars.” “Vincent Harkness murdered my father and stepmother.” “Bullshit.” “It’s true. I can prove it,” Grace said. That wasn’t precisely true. But she hoped it would keep her from getting shot or whisked off to jail, where Vincent Harkness would be sure to arrange an accident to silence her. “Stand up,” Breed ordered, grabbing a plastic cuff from a kitchen drawer. She remained seated. “I’m not going to allow you to handcuff me, Breed.” He gave a nasty laugh. “I’d like to see you try and stop me.” “May I show you something?” “Keep your hands where I can see them,” he said, training the Glock on her center mass. She pointed with a finger that was still high in the air. “It’s right there. The pink book on your kitchen table.” When she started to reach toward the diary, he snapped, “Hold it right there.” “It’s a diary,” she continued. “It belongs to Stephanie Harkness.” “Vince’s wife?” Breed said incredulously. “You stole a diary from an FBI ASAC’s wife? Are you out of your mind?” “I think you’ll find it very interesting.” “I’m not reading my boss’s wife’s diary,” Breed snarled. “Even if it contains evidence that Vincent Harkness is a murderer?” “If you stole that, you’re going to have trouble using it in court to prove—” “I don’t intend to settle this in court.” “Oh, yeah, you’re one of the Victims for Vengeance,” Breed said viciously. “Since when is vigilante justice the answer to anything?” “You aren’t the one who spent eight years locked up for a crime you didn’t commit,” Grace snarled back. “Every criminal I ever met was innocent,” Breed said with a sneer. “I am innocent,” Grace said. “That diary proves it!”
©2008 by Joan Mertens Johnston, Inc. Order Amazon | Order Barnes & Noble | Order Booksense
|
New!
| |
|
© 2008 @JoanMertensJohnston, Inc.
|
||
