Chapter 29
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
I watched things unfold from a safe but intimate distance across the street.
The glass doors of the office building slid open and shut, people coming and going in neat patterns, unaware of how their routines put them at risk. I leaned back against a nearby tree, unhurried and savoring the moment the way some people savored a good drink.
Anticipation had always been my favorite sensation.
The Arctic Circle Murder Club was moving faster than I’d expected.
That pleased me. They were worthy adversaries.
Worthy adversaries were hard to find.
Andi had sharper instincts than most. She asked the right questions. Looked where others glanced and kept walking.
And the man with her? Duke. He was trained. Controlled. Dangerous in a way that could make things . . . interesting.
Good. A smile curled my lips.
I’d always enjoyed a challenge. It went back to the days when I would pass time playing games—strategic ones were the best. My sister always wanted to challenge me, but she could never match my skills. Sometimes, I let her win just because I felt badly for her.
The best games were those I’d played in the barracks in the Middle East with my military colleagues. We’d done so during the reprises of battle, when we’d needed an escape from the real world.
I’d learned so many things during those days.
Right now, I didn’t want the game to be easy.
I was methodical, and I needed adversaries who were an equal match.
I’d finally found them. As soon as I’d heard about their tour, I’d gotten to work. Preparation was everything. Everything.
I knew exactly how many days I needed for my plan to unfold. I accounted for distances. For travel. For observing.
One misstep could ruin things, but so far I hadn’t let that happen.
And I didn’t plan on doing so.
The next part of the game had already been set into motion. Small adjustments. Careful nudges. Nothing flashy. Nothing rushed.
I preferred inevitability over force, preferred watching people arrive at the truth just in time to realize how little it could save them.
I shifted my gaze as Andi and Duke stepped into the street, blending back into the flow of the city. They had no idea how close they’d been. How close they still were.
Soon, they’d leave San Francisco.
I knew this. Actually, I’d planned for it.
Games didn’t require the players to stay in one place. Sometimes the best moves happened when people believed they were stepping away, regrouping, catching their breath.
I smiled again.
There was so much more waiting to unfold—threads they hadn’t seen yet, patterns they hadn’t recognized. They thought they were chasing answers.
They weren’t.
They were following the path I’d laid out for them.
Seemingly random yet perfectly planned.
I smiled. I even managed to alter the security footage at the parking garage.
Most people didn’t suspect I knew so much about computers. But I did. In fact, I’d started my career working in IT. Those skills I’d learned back then were valuable. Very valuable.
My thoughts drifted back to Gina.
Cold. Tired. So very alone.
I found comfort in that . . . just as I’d found comfort in the others who’d felt that way as well.
Yes, this was a game. But the winning play was always the same.
After all, my favorite saying was: There is no death like death alone.
I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate.