Eye for an Eye, an (Heroes of Quantico Book #2): A Novel by Irene Hannon Page A

navigate it blindfolded.
    The muffled putt-putt of the outboard motor, throttled low, echoed in the stillness as he headed downstream. Given the late hour and the dark windows in the few weekend cabins he passed, he doubted the precaution of traveling to an isolated area was necessary. But he’d thought through every step of his plan and saw no reason to change it. He couldn’t afford to get caught.
    Especially since the job wasn’t finished.
    According to the evening news, one person had been wounded this morning. That hadn’t surprised him. He was a good shot. But an unexpected move by his quarry just as he pulled the trigger had sabotaged his aim. His second shot had been a gamble, and it didn’t appear to have paid off. The reporter on TV had mentioned only a single gunshot wound, and indicated the victim was hospitalized but stable.
    He nosed the bow of the boat toward the center of the river, turned upstream, and set the throttle high enough to keep him stationary in the rapid current. Woods ran down to the shore on both sides here, and a quick scan of the secluded bank revealed no sign of life.
    As he pulled the pieces of metal from the sack under his seat, he fingered the remains of his dismantled hunting rifle. The stock had been splintered and fed into his barbecue pit this afternoon as he’d cooked a steak. The barrel had been cut into three sections in his workshop, the smaller parts hammered beyond recognition.
    Now, one by one, he dropped each piece overboard, watching as they were swallowed by the dark, swirling water.
    The necessity for this clandestine trip was galling, and a surge of anger welled up inside him. In a just world, he wouldn’t have to cover his tracks. He would be applauded for following the Good Book, for settling this score. But the cops didn’t see it that way. If he was caught, he’d be thrown into jail. And he couldn’t let that happen. He wanted to right a wrong, not give his quarry a chance to commit more sins.
    His failure today left a bitter taste in his mouth. But he consoled himself with the belief that it had to be part of God’s design. The Lord must want revenge exacted in a different way. And it was up to him to figure it out. He’d pray about it, and when he understood what was expected, he’d formulate another plan. A better plan.
    Because the next time he set his sights on his target, he didn’t intend to miss.

5
    “Morning.”
    At Coop’s greeting, Mark stopped in the kitchen doorway. His partner sat at the small oak table, a sheaf of papers spread out in front of him. Judging by the half-empty pot of coffee on the counter, it looked as if he’d been there a while.
    “When did you get up?” Mark moved to the counter and poured himself a cup of the dark brew.
    “An hour or two ago. I already worked out. Nick has quite a home gym.” He gestured to the papers. “Your friend is one busy lady.”
    “The background material showed up?”
    “Nick found it on the fax this morning.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Gone. He said something about having to chase down a new lead on a bank robbery.”
    “He’s been hot on that trail since I got here. I’ve been working the case with him.” Mark sat at the table and took a sip from his mug. It had been a long, restless night, and he was feeling the effects. He needed a few jolts of caffeine to jump-start his brain. “Find anything interesting?”
    “Depends on how you define interesting. Personally, I think she’s a very interesting lady.”
    Mark gave him a wry look. “Okay. I’ll rephrase that. Did you find anything that would mark her as a target?”
    “Hard to say.”
    That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. “You want to explain that?”
    “In addition to her private practice, she takes corporate referrals for troubled employees from a number of EAP programs.
    According to the file, she’s quite an authority on workplace violence. That was the subject of her PhD dissertation, and she’s done a lot of