Chapter 9 #2
“Then tell us, so we can help you figure out whatever it is,” he urged.
Kinley looked around the room at the six other men.
They were all focused on her, and she could read compassion and genuine affection in their gazes.
They weren’t pretending to be patient with her, they actually were.
She had a feeling they’d sit there all day if that’s what it took for her to get up the guts to tell them why she was there.
The thought of any of them getting hurt or dying because of what she was about to say made her extremely uncomfortable.
“I saw something I shouldn’t have,” she said after a moment.
When she didn’t elaborate, Doc asked, “What did you see?”
This was it. Right now, there were only a couple of people who knew what she’d seen in that alley.
Her ex-boss, probably Stryker, and her. She doubted either of the men had told the hitman why he was supposed to kill her, but it was possible.
If she told these men sitting in Gage’s living room, it would more than double the people who knew.
Was that a bad thing? She truly had no idea.
Taking a deep breath, she made her decision. “Two weeks ago, right before we left Paris, The Alleyway Strangler killed another victim.”
The men around her all looked confused, but they nodded.
“I remember seeing that on the news,” Grover said. “The girl was found in an alley on the other side of the city from where the conference was being held, right?”
Kinley nodded. “I saw the story on the news when I got back to DC. And I…” This was it.
If no one believed her, she wouldn’t really be surprised.
She could hardly believe it herself, and if she hadn’t gotten fired and someone hadn’t tried to flatten her, she might’ve gone on thinking she was imagining things.
Gage reached over and took her hand in his. He twined their fingers and squeezed. His actions gave her just enough courage to continue.
“I wasn’t very tired that last night in Paris, and I was awake in the middle of the night.
I was looking out my window, wishing I had a better view than just an alley next to the hotel.
A car pulled up…it had diplomatic plates…
and a man came out of a door in the hotel, holding on to a woman.
She was obviously drunk or something because she could barely walk.
I recognized him. It was Drake Stryker.”
“The US Ambassador to France?” Brain clarified.
“Yes.”
“You’re sure it was him?” Doc questioned.
“One hundred percent. He looked up for just a second, and I saw his face as clear as day,” Kinley said firmly. “He got into his car with the woman and they drove away.” She paused, trying to get her thoughts together.
None of the men interrupted her. No one told her to hurry up and get on with her story. They patiently sat, silent, waiting for her to continue.
“When I got back to my apartment in DC, it was late, and as I said, I turned on the TV for some background noise. The news was on. They were talking about another victim killed by The Alleyway Strangler. It was her. The woman from the alley.”
She heard someone inhale sharply but wasn’t sure who it was.
“How do you know?” Trigger asked gently. He didn’t sound doubtful, just curious.
“Her shoes,” Kinley breathed.
“Sparkly wedges,” Gage said from next to her.
She looked up at him in surprise. “Yes, how did you know?”
“You talked about them when you were sick,” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.”
Feeling off kilter, wondering what else she’d blabbed when she was out of it with fever, Kinley continued.
“Right, she had on a pair of sparkly high heels. I remember thinking when I saw her in the alley how much I liked them, feeling sad because I’d never be able to wear them.
High heels hurt my feet. But they were so pretty, and they made me think of Cinderella.
” She laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous sound.
“When the news ran a clip from the crime scene, they showed a body covered in a tarp, but her feet were sticking out. She still had on those same sparkly high-heel shoes. Then I found out she wasn’t a woman at all—she was a kid.
She was fourteen years old. I kinda freaked out. ”
“Rightly so,” Oz muttered.
“I know what I saw. That didn’t mean the ambassador was a serial killer, of course.
But I couldn’t get it out of my mind. He was supposed to spend the evening with my boss, and I didn’t know if he’d picked up the girl after their meeting and then dropped her off somewhere, and The Alleyway Strangler found her after that and killed her, or what.
So I called Walter to talk to him about it.
The last thing I wanted to do was accuse the ambassador when I had no proof. ”
“Shit,” Brain said.
“Yeah. Shit,” Kinley echoed. “He talked me down, told me he’d never seen the girl and that I was imagining everything. He told me the police wouldn’t believe me, that there were probably thousands of women who had those same shoes. I started doubting myself.”
When she didn’t say anything for a while, Grover asked, “Then what happened?”
Kinley sighed. “I was fired.”
“What? Why?” Gage asked.
It felt good that he sounded pissed on her behalf, but it didn’t change how she felt about being fired. “I was called into HR two days later and informed that I was being fired on suspicion of treason.”
“Treason?” Lucky exclaimed. “That’s bullshit!”
Kinley smiled at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. But HR had proof that I’d emailed Walter’s schedule to an unsecured Gmail address—some reporter’s—three days before we left for Paris.
And that sort of thing is definitely against all protocol, for obvious reasons.
That’s how politicians get assassinated.
They said that since I couldn’t be trusted, my employment was terminated immediately. ”
“Did you see the email?” Brain asked.
Kinley nodded. “Yeah. It was just the itinerary and a note, supposedly from me, saying that everything was going on as planned. But I didn’t write or send it. I swear.”
“No one thinks you did,” Gage soothed.
But Kinley wasn’t done. “Right. Well, I had to clear my desk out right then. They had a security guard watching over me the whole time, making sure I didn’t steal anything, I guess.
It was extremely humiliating, and I was so confused, because I was accused of something I didn’t do and didn’t even get a chance to defend myself.
“I was on my way home, with my things in a cardboard box—so cliché—and wasn’t really paying attention to everything around me.
I was waiting for the Metro when someone pushed me.
Hard. I had just decided to go back and try to plead my case and…
suddenly my things went flying. The box I was carrying fell onto the tracks.
Luckily, I caught myself right at the edge of the platform—and two seconds later, the Metro went flying by.
I remember my hair blowing in the wind from the train.
When I looked around, I didn’t see anyone who looked like they might be trying to kill me, but I knew that’s what had just happened. ”
No one said a word for a moment, but Brain got up and began pacing the room.
“I went back to my apartment and grabbed my go-bag. I always keep one packed with some of my important stuff. I learned that as a foster kid. A lot of times, I didn’t get a chance to pack all my things.
Anyway, I threw in some clothes and left a note for my landlord, plus the next month’s rent, but I’m guessing by the time I’ve figured this out, he’ll have cleared out my stuff and rented the apartment to someone else.
” She shrugged. “I waited until it got dark and snuck out to my car in a parking garage a few blocks away. I got five thousand dollars out of my savings account the next day, and I haven’t used any credit cards since then. ”
“Smart,” Brain said as he continued to pace. “If someone was able to plant a fake email in your account, they’d probably easily be able to track where and when you’re using your credit cards.”
“That’s what I thought,” Kinley admitted.
Then she took a deep breath. She’d done it. Told them what happened. No one said she was crazy for suggesting the ambassador might be a serial killer or thinking someone had pushed her on that train platform.
All her life, people had second-guessed her. It felt really good to be believed now.
“Why’d you come here?” Trigger asked.
Kinley looked down at her hand clasped in Gage’s.
She was embarrassed to admit her real reason, but she’d been honest so far, she didn’t want to start lying now.
“I hadn’t planned on it. I was going to go northwest. To North Dakota or somewhere.
And I did. I drove around aimlessly for a while, but then I found myself heading south toward Texas.
I didn’t want to put anyone else in danger.
I know what I felt on that train platform, but I also knew that if I was going to get someone to listen to me, to believe me, I needed help.
I figured Gage would maybe know someone in the FBI who was trustworthy. ”
She felt fingers under her chin, and she turned her face toward Gage.
He caressed her cheek with his thumb before he said, “You did the right thing. My team and I are going to help you. If the ambassador is a pedophile and a murderer, he’s not going to get away with it.
Not to mention, I’d bet any amount of money that your ass of a boss is in this up to his eyeballs.
I’m sorry I wasn’t home when you got here. ”
Kinley shrugged. “I should’ve known you might be on a mission.”
“I’m gonna keep you safe, Kins,” Gage said tenderly, staring into her eyes.
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can, and I am,” he swore.
Kinley knew if Stryker or Brown really wanted her dead, they had the money to hire someone to make sure that happened, but it still felt good that Gage was willing to do what he could to keep her safe.
She wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing in confiding in him and his team, but what was done was done.
She’d have to live with the consequences of her actions.
She just hoped those consequences wouldn’t be the death of the man sitting next to her…or his friends.