Chapter 19

chapter

nineteen

Nia leaned back in her chair as she waited for Chatterbox to work.

Chatterbox had almost been sold to police departments across the country—before a judge had ruled it illegal and the project had been shelved. However, Nia still had the prototype.

The program was brilliant, really. When someone entered a phone number, Chatterbox pulled call records. The creator’s hope was that it could help law enforcement skip getting a warrant and going through phone companies to get these records in time-sensitive investigations.

Just don’t get caught.

That was what she kept telling herself.

As she waited, she tried to call Hector Backus, Rob’s attorney.

The call went to voicemail. She’d try again later .

After several more minutes, a log of Rob’s phone calls populated her screen.

Nia’s breath caught.

Would this information pinpoint who the killer was?

If that was the case, what would she do with whatever she discovered?

Thirty minutes after Nia left, Gage figured out—through the process of elimination—where she’d gone.

She was too smart to go back to her apartment, and the cops were probably still at Rob’s place.

Going back to Avenue 12 probably wouldn’t provide any answers, and she didn’t seem comfortable in that place to begin with.

She could have left the hotel and gone to talk to Rob’s lawyer—not that the man would share anything with her. But Gage didn’t think she’d done that.

The place that made the most sense was her office. Maybe Nia would look at her contract with Rob again. Talk to her employees to see if any of them had seen Rob after he left the office. Maybe she’d use some of the technology at her disposal.

Gage had bought a hat and some sunglasses from a street vendor and purchased a newspaper from a news rack on the corner. Then he found a spot across the street from Nia’s office building where he could linger and pretend to read as he watched her window.

He’d done some research and knew which window was hers. He could vaguely make out her figure at the desk behind the tinted glass.

With one shot, a skilled gunman could take her out.

His muscles tightened at the thought.

What had Nia been thinking? Why had she left when she did?

She was putting herself at risk.

Or she was acting as a cunning killer?

Gage wasn’t sure which one yet. A frown tugged at his lips.

When he’d shown up at her apartment earlier, he’d seen some art on her wall by the entry. It was a picture of Jesus calming the storm. Below it had been the Scripture reference. Mark 4:39, He got up, rebuked the wind, and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

Nia presented herself as a Christian—something Gage could appreciate. But he could only appreciate it if the walk and the talk matched.

Then again, he had no reason to talk.

The job he worked required subterfuge. Lies. Sometimes violence.

Who was he to judge someone else?

Maybe he needed to get his act together first.

He’d become a believer a few years ago, but he was never in the same place very long, so getting involved with a church community was difficult. At times, he struggled with what to do. To find balance in his life.

His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen.

Perfect. His colleague, Austin Greenwich, had just arrived in Miami and picked up a rental car.

Gage texted Austin his current location.

When he got there, they’d switch spots. Gage would let Austin keep an eye on Nia while Gage checked out a few other leads.