AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Two more skateboarders stepped off the Boulevard and approached the kiosk, grinning and high fiving each other.
One of them wore a T-shirt with a symbol for the Navy.
He couldn’t have been much older than sixteen.
She looked away.
What had been bothering her about the night before was something she had picked up whileinthe Navy.
Even with the move she had used back in the serial killer’s house she had remembered learning it from a foreign special forces team.
Different countries had different signatures to the way they executed their missions.
In Cora’s case, she found that her missions could be interpreted by someone, analyzed, scrutinized, and then pointed directly back at her.
It wasn’t just the strategic portion, though. But also, the movements and the way heads turned. The small things, like footsteps, like the cadence of reloading. It was like a dance, something you trained in from a very young age. The country you grew up in, the leaders you trained under, heavily influenced the outcome.
Cora frowned and gave a little sigh. Her phone was in her hand now.
The thing that had bothered her was the way some of the private security had moved. The man she had fought in the bathroom. Not a cop. Certainly not local police. Ex-military.
But that was just it. Not from any branch of the military she knew.
At least, not on this side of the pond.
Russian special forces, though? They had a distinct training about them. A distinct tactical and physical awareness. Sometimes they had been on the same side, but in recent years, it seemed as if they were on opposite sides. And Cora had grown to know that particular dance.
Now that she thought back, playing through the night’s events in her mind, she realized that more than one of the soldiers had engaged in that same sort of motion.
Why was the mayor of Miami employing ex-Russian soldiers? Special forces by the look of them. Probably not very good at their job, judging by her experience from the previous night.
She considered this, frowning and then, she glanced down at her phone.
She had already made up her mind that she would continue with all of this. Johnny’s sister was dead, and Cora had promised to do something about it. And in order to bring Janice to justice, she needed to find who did it.
Unless, of course, she was completely deluded. No one had found the body of Janice.
Maybe she was still out there, alive, trapped in someone’s basement like Rain.
Cora scowled at the thought.
But no. No, she decided, she didn’t think that was possible.
And then she placed a call.
Even as the call attempted to connect, she knew it wouldn’t be received well.
She began pacing back and forth, listening as the two skateboarders harassed the sandwich seller. One of them was trying to wheedle free food.
The other kept trying to steal packet condiments from a jar just within the window.
Cora glared, looking away, her phone still pressed to her cheek. As the call connected, she could feel her anxiety mounting. He would not be happy with this call.
But what else was she supposed to do? The only lead she had required someone to help.
“Cora?” said the voice after the fifth ring.
Polite, calm as ever. But there was a level to that tone. Something just hidden behind the veil.
