Page 18 of Final Vendetta

“It doesn’t?”

“No.”

He took a few steps back into the room, but didn’t sit down. Still, his presence seemed to fill the space, suffocating me and reminding me what was at stake.

“When I started looking at the big picture, a few things stood out. Starting with you being sent those necklaces, then being attacked in the alley.”

His words hung heavy in the air, each one landing with a thud and leaving me reeling. I tried to maintain my composure, flashing a poker face I’d perfected all those years ago while living with my sperm donor. But as he continued reciting off all the suspicious events, I felt it slip.

“Approximately two weeks later, a body was found on Mr. Pierce’s boat that belonged to the man who’d given you the necklace in the club, Benjamin Astor. Then less than a week later, Alton Sinclair was found dead of a supposed self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head, and a glass containing Samuel Tate’s fingerprints was found at the scene. Just a few days after that, James Turner paid Brian McGuire a visit in Atlanta, who then turned up missing. Then just a few weeks later, a recording of their conversation was released, which would have resulted in Turner’s arrest, had he not attempted to flee from the cops.”

As he leveled his stare on me, my heart pounded in my chest, making me think it was about to burst out of my body.

“And your theory is?” I prodded, despite every voice in my head telling me to put an end to this conversation right now.

“That maybe these recent deaths aren’t simply attempts to cover up what happened all those years ago, but are acts of revenge. By Samuel Tate himself.”

“But he’s dead,” I protested, surprised at how convincing I sounded. Hell, if I didn’t know any better, I would have believed me.

But I knew better.

“We don’t know that,” Agent Myers argued. “In the recording, Brian McGuire confessed to selling Mr. Tate. He could have survived and escaped, and is now getting back at everyone who he believes wronged him. Alton Sinclair. James Turner. Brian McGuire. Now with William Pierce having essentially disappeared, it’s possible he’s also eliminated him. Which means you’re the last name on his hit list to cross off. Hell, the necklaces and the attack in the alley could have been his first attempt at doing just that.”

“That sounds a little far-fetched,” I said, praying my voice didn’t sound as nervous as I felt right now. “Like something out of a movie.”

“My boss said the same thing, considering the only proof we have that Samuel Tate is still alive is a single fingerprint, which could very easily be several years old.” He arched a single brow, his unnerving gaze locked on mine, as if looking for the slightest indication I might believe him.

Agent Myers seemed determined to get a reaction out of me, waiting for me to slip up and reveal something incriminating.

“Samuel Tate was the kindest, most gentle person I knew,” I declared with vindication. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not like you’re suggesting. And he certainly wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You’d be surprised what people are capable of when they’re pushed to their limits.”

I didn’t respond. Just glared at him.

I expected him to turn and leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he stated, “It’s my understanding Gideon Saint is the one who came to your rescue that night in the alley.”

“What does that have to do with everything?”

He raked his scrutinizing stare over me once more. “I’m not sure yet.” He smirked. “Good day, Ms. Prescott.”

With one last look, he turned around and disappeared into the hallway, leaving me on edge and making me regret ever agreeing to answer his questions.

Chapter Nine

Imogene

“You must be happy to be breaking out of here,” Mom said as she folded some of the clothes Henry had brought to me from my townhouse at the beginning of my hospital stay.

After two long weeks, my doctors had finally cleared me to go back to San Diego. As grateful as I was for everything the staff here did to save my life, I was looking forward to being somewhere other than this damn hospital. Somewhere peaceful.

Somewhere that I wasn’t woken up every few hours to have my vitals checked yet again.

“I’m definitely ready for life to return to normal.” I gritted a smile. “Or as normal as possible, all things considered.” I gave her a knowing look. “Are you sure you and Lachlan don’t want to come down to San Diego?”

“We’ll be back to check on you soon, but we thought it was better if we gave you some time to get settled in with Gideon.” She winced slightly. “Samuel. I’m not really sure what to call him.” She laughed under her breath.

“I’m not sure, either,” I admitted honestly. “All things considered, it’s probably best to stick to Gideon.” I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, growing uneasy as I recalled my conversation with Agent Myers several days ago.

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