Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“I need this done now,” I tell my mom, glancing over at Kynan who is leaning up against one of the walls. “I want this done so I can get my life back. Besides, I can’t keep Kynan around forever.”
Kynan flinches slightly, but I pay it no mind. I’m sure he’d rather get back to his life as well.
“Well, we can talk about this some more over dinner—”
I cut my mom off by standing up. “We really can’t stay, Mom. We didn’t even pack an overnight bag and we took a private jet, which is on standby for us to return tonight. On top of that, we’re scheduled to do our relationship ‘reveal’ on the Cara Peterson show the day after tomorrow. We really have a lot to do to get ready for that.”
“Joslyn, please,” my mom pleads. She’s fearful for me, and she’s trying to hold tight now to alleviate those worries.
“We really can’t,” I state sorrowfully, really wishing I could stay for one of her home-cooked meals. Like the kind she used to make when I was younger—before she started worrying about whether it all went to my hips.
My mom sighs long and heavy. It hits the mark, and I feel guilty.
That interaction is what makes me think we’ll be okay.
CHAPTER 15
Kynan
“You’re up early,” I comment to Rachel as I walk into Joslyn’s kitchen. She’s sitting at the center island, cup of coffee in front of her. Bebe is to her left, tapping away on her computer as they both study the screen.
“Went for a run,” Rachel replies. “But come over here and take a look… Bebe’s just uploaded the video I got from that flower shop yesterday.”
While Joslyn and I had flown to Cunningham Falls so she could hash it out with her mom, Rachel had gone to the shop where we believe the stalker purchased the sunflowers. They indeed had security video, but the owner wasn’t in and was the only one who could authorize the information to be released to Rachel. She had to wait around until late afternoon, and then the owner proved to be quite the bugger. He couldn’t be convinced to turn the footage over out of the goodness of his heart to help catch a sick fuck who tried to murder someone. He did, however, respond to the color green. Eventually, Rachel negotiated a payment of two thousand dollars in return for a flash drive with the security footage.
I grab a cup, pour some coffee, and walk around the island to come up behind Bebe and Rachel.
“Here we go,” Bebe says, then the footage of the inside of the flower shop starts to roll. The camera is set up in a corner, behind the register and facing outward to the interior of the shop through to the glass entrance door. The imagery is grayscale, and the quality just a tad better than overly grainy.
“Go to 11:47 on the video,” Rachel tells Bebe, who then uses the scroll bar to advance the footage forward.
“There,” Rachel exclaims, and Bebe slows the footage to regular speed.
At first, all I see is a female customer perusing a shelf of knickknacks. The flower shop is what I’d expect. A big cooler of premade arrangements on one wall. Shelves with overpriced trinkets.
“There he is,” Rachel murmurs as the glass door opens. A blond man of medium height and build walks in. Everything about him is nondescript except for the fact he’s wearing his sunglasses inside. He doesn’t bother to remove them or push them onto his head. He’s wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt despite the warmth of the day, and that tells me he might have an identifying mark he’s trying to conceal. Maybe a birth mark or tattoo.
He strides up to the counter to talk to the shop employee there. They have an incredibly brief conversation before she steps out of camera range, presumably to a back room. We watch in silence as the time stamp ticks away. About fifteen minutes later, the woman comes back with the exact style of flower arrangement—sunflowers—that was found at the edge of Joslyn’s property.
“That’s him for sure,” Rachel says.
“Indeed,” I mutter, then nod to the screen. “Play it again.”
Bebe rewinds it, and the three of us watch again. I notice a few things. The man is smart enough to keep his face angled away from the camera. The oversized aviators he’s wearing hide a nice chunk of his face, but his refusal to face the camera head-on tells me he’s aware of the camera’s position and knows the power of the more advanced facial recognition software out there. What he doesn’t know is I don’t have the exact product yet, but I’m getting an advanced version that’s being created right now by the Defense Intelligence Agency. Until then, I’ll have to send this video off for scanning, but I doubt we’d get anything useful because the guy is being overly cautious.