Page 60 of The Girl Who Survived

“Not that I can think of. That’s it for now.”

“Good.” Squaring his hat on his head, Connell turned toward the parking lot, but stopped after taking a couple of steps, as if he’d had a sudden thought. “And, Tate?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself.” His eyes held Tate’s for a second. “Revenge or obsession, or whatever you want to call it, can eat you alive. Don’t let it.”

“If you say so.”

“And don’t do anything stupid.”

Too late,Tate thought.Too damned late.

He watched Connell disappear through the snowfall, slipping like a ghost through the veil of icy flakes.

Tate smiled to himself. Slipped his sunglasses over the bridge of his nose.

Despite his objections, Connell had taken the bait.

Could be that Connell had wrapped his acquiescence in all kinds of do-gooding rhetoric, but the truth of the matter was that Connell was intrigued. Mystified. And there was nothing more he liked than figuring out a puzzle—through legitimate means or not. Yeah, he was definitely on the side of justice, which was just fine, but he was intrigued.

Stuffing his hands deep into his pockets, Tate stared at the water as it tumbled and fell over the time-worn stones below the surface.

Whether he knew it or not, Wayne Connell was in.

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