Page 15 of So Twisted

She shook her head. “My best guess is that it’s some animal rights activist who thinks that violence is the answer to the world’s woes. There are still people like that out there, I’m afraid. I don’t know who, though. I don’t associate with people like that, and I don’t follow any kind of news that talks about them. That’s the wrong way to get people on our side.”

Faith nodded. “I agree.” She stood. “If you think of anything else, please call us. I promise you we won’t stop until we find the person responsible for Marcus’s murder and bring them to justice.”

Lisa smiled. “Thank you. I’m so glad to have you helping us.”

“One last question,” Michael said. “Did Marcus ever talk about a woman named Alison Chen?”

Lisa’s brow furrowed. “No. No, I don’t think so. Not to me, at least. I can ask around if you’d like.”

“Please do. Let us know if you hear anything.”

“I will.”

The three agents started from the room. Lisa smiled at Turk as he trotted out. “Go find that bad guy for me, okay, boy?”

Turk barked a firm promise. Faith smiled at him and assured Lisa, “That’s what he does best.”

CHAPTER SIX

Lillian Martin hated men like Grant Monroe. She hated most men in general, and she didn’t have a much higher opinion of women for that matter, but she especially hated men like Grant Monroe. He reminded Lillian of her father. Always scowling, wearing a stupid crew cut that only made him look insecure, angry at everyone for no reason and acting like everyone had to march and salute and grovel like the damned military.

She was going to have a lot of fun killing him.

But it wouldn't be easy. Grant Monroe was old—fifty-eight, according to her research—but he was in good shape. Lillian was also in excellent shape, but he was a man, and as much as she hated it, men were much stronger than women on average, and they remained that way well into old age. Lillian would need to get the jump on him and use a weapon like she did on the clerk at the electronics store.

Grant got into his car—an old Toyota T100 pickup truck—and pulled out of the parking lot of the Philadelphia Field Office. That was an odd choice for someone so “All-American.” She would have expected an old Chevy K-body or a Ford Highboy.

Well, whatever. He could drive a Smart car for all she cared.

This was the tricky part. If she wasn’t careful, he would know he was being followed. So instead of taking her car, Lillian was going to take the bus.

She stepped on the bus and watched through the windshield as the truck drove ahead. She would ride this bus until the truck turned, then figure out the next bus line she should take and what time the bus arrived at what pickup bench. Then tomorrow night, she would take that bus and follow it until the truck turned again. Little by little, she would map out the route from the Field Office to Grant Monroe’s home until she found outwhere he lived. He would notice her in a car. He was far less likely to notice who boarded the bus.

It was going to be tedious. It had taken her a whole month just to figure out who to stalk. She originally considered tailing Faith’s partner, Michael Prince, but Prince was married to Franklin West’s ex-wife, and that woman was likely to be too sharp for Lillian to approach safely.

She allowed herself a momentary fantasy of beating Ellie to death. Why the hell Frank would have wasted his time with that cutesy, smarmy, little housewife bitch was beyond Lillian. Why did West obsess over these whores who didn’t deserve him?

She heaved an exasperated sigh and let the fantasy die. If she dwelled on it too much, she might act on it, and she had bigger fish to fry than her jealousy right now.

The next potential target was the other woman working at the Field Office, the Latina girl. She was taller and prettier than Faith, and Lillian thought it would be fun to make her look ugly. But it was clear that she wasn’t close with Faith, so Lillian dropped that idea.

After that, she spent a week considering the boyfriend, but she wanted to save him for later. She needed that one to hurt, and it would hurt more if she was vulnerable from the other deaths Lillian would plague her with.

But she had finally settled on her target: the man who had saved Faith’s career and protected her from the consequences of her persecution of Frank.

And it would be so sweet to kill him.

The truck turned right onto the freeway, and Lillian cursed. She’d forgotten about the fucking freeway.

She pulled the handle, and the bus came to a stop. She jumped off, and the bus driver offered a snarky, “You’re welcome.”

Lillian flashed him a perky smile and extended both her middle fingers. “Stick it down your throat and choke, asshole.”

The driver muttered something under his breath and drove on. Lillian sighed and shook her head. “Damn it, Lily. Stop being an idiot. He might be the driver next time.”

Oh well. She’d just give him an apology card and make up a story about her grandmother dying or something. Sob stories always smoothed things over.

Still, she needed to control her anger. People remembered loud, angry people. She needed to be unmemorable.

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