Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Cora fucking Preston.
I knew that woman was going to be trouble the moment I met her. First, I saw judgment when she looked at Kincaid. By the time the meeting was over, she seemed okay with the idea of Cerberus working on her sister's case but I didn't see the confidence in her eyes that we'd normally see after speaking with a client.
I rip my phone from my back pocket and call Kincaid.
"Find something?" he asks the second the call connects.
"The older sister just drove up to the fucking house," I growl, but it's not his fault. This woman is making her own damn choices. "She's going to burn this case."
"People think they're helping by doing shit like this," he mutters, and I can hear the irritation in his voice. "She called earlier for an update, and I should've expected something like this when I had nothing to give her.
"She needs to be redirected."
"She wants to find her sister. I say head over to the house and make sure she doesn't get herself into too much trouble. I don't know that the brother would want us digging around, even if the second sister vanished."
"They won't let me in that goddamned door."
"Eddie Yarrow wouldn't get access, but Anthony Weidman is just the type of guy they want there. Plus, you have a sack full of cash at your disposal, and the green shit opens a lot of doors. Hurry before she blows the entire case."
I move the second the call ends, rushing to the bedroom and pulling a suit sans tie from the closet.
The drive in DC is no different from the drive in East Tennessee. It's slow and frustrating, especially considering the urgency of the situation.
As I slow for yet another red light, I can only hope that Cora doesn't demand entrance before grilling everyone she sees about her sister. If people in the house are connected to Sadie's disappearance, then it's a surefire way for her to find out exactly what happens when people threaten to make a ripple in such a lucrative business.
Chapter 8
Cora
I can't count the number of times I've been under the scrutiny of an entire stadium of people.
As the oldest Preston child, I was a baby when Dad ran for Senate the first time. For his second run, I was nearly seven and old enough to stand beside him, the picture-perfect image of an American family. By his third run for Senate, all of us kids were there on the stage beside him, smiling proudly for the cameras.
So being the center of attention has never been a problem for me, but my hands tremble as I produce my driver's license for the man at the door.
"Good evening, Ms. Preston," he says as he looks down at the identification.
I know he at least recognizes the last name. I'm not egotistical enough to think he knows who I am specifically, but he's a man who knows a lot of names in this neck of the woods, and my dad served as a senator for many, many years.
I keep from scrunching my nose at the thought that my dad would've come to a place like this. He avoided scandal as much as possible, considering his own daughter brought our name into the light for a lot more than my father's stance on certain political issues.
"Follow me," he says as he takes a step back into the house, allowing me access.
I don't know what I thought this place would be like, but I know I had formulated more ideas than I realized when I step inside and grow a little disappointed that it looks just like any other fancy foyer would look.
"This way," he urges toward a closed door. "You'll have to put all your personal belongings into a locker."
I blink at him when he points to a wall of lockers very similar to the ones at the country club, but it isn't the fact that he wants me to put my things in there. It's the fact that he's holding one of those security wands like TSA uses at the airport to make sure I put everything in there.
"I'm waiting for an important call," I say, holding up my cell phone.
"Everyone here is waiting for an important call, ma'am. Would you like to come back after you've received it?"
I shake my head and walk toward the bank of lockers, putting all my things in it before subjecting myself to his wand.
"This way," he says again, backing out of this room and directing me to another door. "Please have a seat while we work through your application."
I feel like I'm doing something wrong as I enter the small sitting room and take a seat on the expensive settee. I shouldn't be here. There are a million warning bells going off in my head, screaming that I should get my things and leave, but that won't get me any closer to figuring out where my sister is. I run my hands over the velvet texture of the sofa for the tactile distraction it provides before remembering exactly what this place is.