Page 16 of Final Vendetta

“Okay.” She turned and disappeared down the hallway.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I told myself it would be okay. That I hadn’t done anything wrong. But I couldn’t help but feel anxious about what questions he might ask.

“Ms. Prescott?”

I snapped my eyes open to see a tall man standing in the doorway. Everything about him screamed law enforcement. From the dark suit, to his perfectly groomed silver hair and shaven jawline, to his no-nonsense demeanor. I got the feeling this was a guy who took his job seriously.

“I’m Agent Myers with the FBI.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” I replied with a congenial smile.

“May I sit down?” He gestured to the chair beside my bed.

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” He walked across the room and sat in the chair, his eyes focused on me with every step.

It was unnerving.

“What can I help you with today, Agent Myers?” I asked, trying to keep my tone friendly and composed.

“I’m investigating a cold case in Georgia that appears to be connected to recent criminal activity, both in Georgia and here in California.”

“Okay,” I drew out, my anxiety increasing with every second. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy and oppressive, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for whatever question he was about to ask.

Much like I was.

“When was the last time you saw William Pierce?”

It took me a moment to figure out he was referring to Liam. I hadn’t heard anyone call him William in years.

“About three weeks ago. He stopped by my townhouse.”

“What did you discuss?”

“We’d gotten into an argument a week prior, and he came over to apologize.”

“What was the argument about?”

“He doesn’t approve of my current choice in romantic partner.”

Agent Myers arched a brow. “Gideon Saint?”

I swallowed hard, wondering how he knew of my relationship with him. In all actuality, we’d only spent a handful of nights together. Yet, this FBI agent knew about us.

How?

And why did he seem so interested in my response?

“Yes,” I finally answered, keeping my expression even.

“And you haven’t seen or spoken to Mr. Pierce since that day?”

“No.”

“Did he say anything else when he came to see you? No matter how insignificant, it could be helpful.”

“He did mention he was heading out of town that night and wouldn’t be back for a few days,” I offered, hoping that was enough to satisfy him.

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