Page 25 of The Hunter

Page List

Font Size:

“Did you have a chance to run facial recognition or his prints?”

“Nothing’s come back, but it could take a while.”

I knew how these things worked. It wasn’t like in the movies where you immediately got a hit. There were thousands of databases to comb through. Even then, it wasn’t always successful.

“Why do you think this guy was after her?” Blake asked.

“I’m staring at fifty thousand reasons right now.” I sat back in my chair, my eyes focused on the duffel bag full of cash.

“But who hired him? And why?”

“That’s what I need you to figure out. This guy was familiar enough with her and the household staff’s schedule to know she was alone. And he had a gate code. I want to know why. And how.”

“Do you think this could have a connection to Sarah?”

I peered into the distance, struggling to get my thoughts in order. That was the million dollar question.Wasthere a connection? Or were they two completely unrelated events?

I had absolutely no reason to believe they were connected. Arianawasa high-profile target. But the entire operation seemed planned. Organized. Methodical.

It was rare that Ariana was alone. I’d watched that house for weeks. Months. There was usually staff around.

But not today.

Could it have just been a coincidence? Or was it planned? DidVictorplan it?

Or was I grasping at straws, desperate for there to be a connection between Sarah and Ariana?

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“And your plan?”

“What about it?”

“Has that changed?”

“What do you think?” I snapped. “You think I brought her all the way to Maine to play house?”

“It’s not every day you go out on the boat and end up rescuing the woman you’d planned to abduct.”

I barked out a laugh. “I didn’t rescue her. Not like that.”

“Are you sure?”

I glanced at the monitor, where the live feed showed her sleeping. Still as death.

“I did what I needed to do.”

“You’re protecting her.”

“I’m protecting my investment,” I shot back harshly.

“Right.” Blake didn’t argue. He knew better than to push when my voice sounded like this.

“I’ll let you get some sleep,” I told him, clearing my throat. “You’ve probably had a hell of a night.”

“You should get some rest, too. You sound like shit, boss.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”