Page 22 of Only the Hunter

“I don’t have an estimate yet,” Evie says.

“I know.” I take a step back. “But I was planning to do this anyway. When you get it, I’ll be better able to weigh in if I’ve checked it out.”

Besides, I want to get eyes on her brake lines.

I point at Scott. “Taking her to see some cars, just in case. That’s a good call.”

“Knowing this one, she’ll probably get another Jetta.”

“It’s a good car,” she says, defensively.

“Let me see this space you have to park. Dad said something about you need a smaller car….”

For half a second, I consider staying.

I don’t.

I’m two steps down when the door shuts.

It’s good Scott’s there. Good he’s showing her car options. It’s good I’ve got the time to go see her car for myself. And after seeing the evidence board on her office wall, I’m not leaving anything to chance.

Professional instinct. But the truth is, it isn’t only that.

Chapter 6

Gabe

Monday morning I’m sitting in my home office, logged in for the team meeting. Alicia Morgan is working from home as her daughter doesn’t have school, and my colleague, Noah Bennett is dialing in from Alicia’s basement. Given he’s on site with her, I’m also working from home today.

Evie is in her office in the Capitol. Safe for the day.

Saturday afternoon I assessed her car. At first glance, it could have been age or a maintenance oversight. But it was the mechanic looking over my shoulder who cinched my theory. “A line doesn’t just crack like that.”

He’d been spot on. I snapped photos. Asked Hudson if he had a contact with the DC police. The cops at the crash had been most interested in clearing the vehicle to minimize traffic impact. But a second look is warranted.

When I shared the update with Evie, she took it in stride, like she already knew.

Evie should drop this Safe Passage case as instructed. Trust that WITSEC kept Lina safe and she’s choosing to remain off-grid—untouchable.

She’s doing important work on authorized cases. There’s no need for her to take this one on. But judging from her home office, she’s in too deep. Backing off isn’t an option—not from her perspective.

My phone rings, and I read the name. Scott.

I’ve got a few minutes, so I answer. “Morning.”

“What’s it going to take to get you to come up?”

“To New York?”

“No. Toronto. Yes, New York.”

He can be such a schmuck. “My strip club days are over, man. No interest.”

I don’t say that lightly. Yes, as a military guy, I’ve been to my share. But it’s not my scene. I also don’t drink like I used to. Maybe it’s age, but it doesn’t deliver a thrill anymore.

“Who said anything about a strip club? It’s a private club. And it’s phenomenal. Like, seriously, you’ve never seen anything like it. Membership fee is sky high but lucky you, I’ve got a guest pass.”

“I’m good. Thanks.”