Agent to the Rescue (Special Agents At The Alter Book 3) by LISA CHILDS
Authors: LISA CHILDS
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with concern. “Claire didn’t upset you, did she?”
She shook her head. Claire hadn’t upset her, but meeting the other woman had. “I just wish...”
“What?” he asked.
“I wish I knew what kind of person I am,” she said. “If I’m like her...” Or if she was someone who’d earned another person’s hatred? “I just wish I knew who I am...”
“You may not know your name,” Dalton said, “but you know who are you are—you’re strong and smart and brave.”
But she felt like none of those things. She was terrified—terrified of the person determined to kill her, terrified to be away from Dalton Reyes and terrified to find out who she really was.
* * *
A LL HE ’ D HAD to do was bide his time. Eventually the dark-haired agent had left—along with the other federal agents. They weren’t bodyguards; they were investigators.
He wasn’t worried about what they would find. He’d been careful so that nothing could be traced back to him. Not even her...
But still she had to die.
And it would be easier for him to kill her now that the agent was gone. He’d left behind the bald-headed trooper for her protection.
All he’d had to do was wait him out. With the amount of coffee the man drank, it was inevitable that he would leave her to use the restroom. He was waiting for him there—hiding inside a stall.
He waited until the trooper was preoccupied at the urinal before he stepped out. The trooper didn’t have a chance to pull his gun—to catch more than a shadowy movement in the mirrored wall—before he struck him. Hard. Harder than he’d even struck her.
As the trooper dropped to the tile floor, he dropped the bloodied pipe next to him. He was wearing gloves, so it couldn’t be traced back to him. He was careful to leave no evidence behind. Anywhere.
He reached for the buttons on the trooper’s uniform. Dressed like the trooper, he would have no trouble getting into her room and finishing the job he’d started. He looked quite official in uniform—every bit the lawman he’d always hated. He grinned at his reflection in the mirrored wall.
The woman was going to be dead soon.
Very soon...
Chapter Six
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Dalton asked. He glanced over at the passenger’s seat to check on her. He expected to find her eyes closed as she rested or passed out from exhaustion. She had been through so much—had lost so much blood.
But the doctor had assured him that it would be all right to take her out of the hospital. And she had insisted that she was strong enough to be released.
Maybe she was right. She wasn’t sleeping or passed out. She leaned forward, straining against her seat belt, as she stared through the windshield. She had studied every street and building between the rural area of lower western Michigan and the urban skyline of Chicago as if trying to recognize it or hoping something might jog her memory.
The bridge rattled beneath the tires of the SUV as Dalton drove over the Chicago Skyway into the city. “Anything familiar?”
She groaned.
“I thought this would be too much for you,” he said. “You should have stayed at the hospital with Trooper Littlefield protecting you.” The local lawman had been offended when Dalton had asked him to protect an empty room. He thought that Dalton didn’t trust him anymore.
That hadn’t been the case at all, though.
He was pretty certain that the killer was watching her and waiting for another opportunity to get to her. So Dalton had wanted him to think that she was still at the hospital—still protected.
Instead of alone with just him for protection. But Blaine was on standby. Dalton could call him in or several other agents for backup...if he needed it. But nobody had followed him. He had taken a circuitous route and had kept a vigilant watch on the SUV’s rearview mirror. So he was certain they had no tail. But her attacker was the least of his concerns at the moment.
“Are you all right?” he
She shook her head. Claire hadn’t upset her, but meeting the other woman had. “I just wish...”
“What?” he asked.
“I wish I knew what kind of person I am,” she said. “If I’m like her...” Or if she was someone who’d earned another person’s hatred? “I just wish I knew who I am...”
“You may not know your name,” Dalton said, “but you know who are you are—you’re strong and smart and brave.”
But she felt like none of those things. She was terrified—terrified of the person determined to kill her, terrified to be away from Dalton Reyes and terrified to find out who she really was.
* * *
A LL HE ’ D HAD to do was bide his time. Eventually the dark-haired agent had left—along with the other federal agents. They weren’t bodyguards; they were investigators.
He wasn’t worried about what they would find. He’d been careful so that nothing could be traced back to him. Not even her...
But still she had to die.
And it would be easier for him to kill her now that the agent was gone. He’d left behind the bald-headed trooper for her protection.
All he’d had to do was wait him out. With the amount of coffee the man drank, it was inevitable that he would leave her to use the restroom. He was waiting for him there—hiding inside a stall.
He waited until the trooper was preoccupied at the urinal before he stepped out. The trooper didn’t have a chance to pull his gun—to catch more than a shadowy movement in the mirrored wall—before he struck him. Hard. Harder than he’d even struck her.
As the trooper dropped to the tile floor, he dropped the bloodied pipe next to him. He was wearing gloves, so it couldn’t be traced back to him. He was careful to leave no evidence behind. Anywhere.
He reached for the buttons on the trooper’s uniform. Dressed like the trooper, he would have no trouble getting into her room and finishing the job he’d started. He looked quite official in uniform—every bit the lawman he’d always hated. He grinned at his reflection in the mirrored wall.
The woman was going to be dead soon.
Very soon...
Chapter Six
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Dalton asked. He glanced over at the passenger’s seat to check on her. He expected to find her eyes closed as she rested or passed out from exhaustion. She had been through so much—had lost so much blood.
But the doctor had assured him that it would be all right to take her out of the hospital. And she had insisted that she was strong enough to be released.
Maybe she was right. She wasn’t sleeping or passed out. She leaned forward, straining against her seat belt, as she stared through the windshield. She had studied every street and building between the rural area of lower western Michigan and the urban skyline of Chicago as if trying to recognize it or hoping something might jog her memory.
The bridge rattled beneath the tires of the SUV as Dalton drove over the Chicago Skyway into the city. “Anything familiar?”
She groaned.
“I thought this would be too much for you,” he said. “You should have stayed at the hospital with Trooper Littlefield protecting you.” The local lawman had been offended when Dalton had asked him to protect an empty room. He thought that Dalton didn’t trust him anymore.
That hadn’t been the case at all, though.
He was pretty certain that the killer was watching her and waiting for another opportunity to get to her. So Dalton had wanted him to think that she was still at the hospital—still protected.
Instead of alone with just him for protection. But Blaine was on standby. Dalton could call him in or several other agents for backup...if he needed it. But nobody had followed him. He had taken a circuitous route and had kept a vigilant watch on the SUV’s rearview mirror. So he was certain they had no tail. But her attacker was the least of his concerns at the moment.
“Are you all right?” he
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