Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Or he could wait and talk to her and see if she told him anything.
He almost smiled. Giving people the benefit of the doubt wasn’t what he did. If his family’s history had taught him anything, it was that if left to their own devices, people would barely wait for a person to turn around before stabbing them in the back. It was smarter to go into any situation, whether it was a date or a confrontation, with all the cards and a plan for every contingency. Jude pushed to his feet and headed for the door.
He almost made it, too.
Jerry Steinback, town mayor and all-around pain in the ass, appeared as if out of thin air, a wide smile on his face showing off too-white teeth. Everything about him was trying a little too much. Skin too tanned to come from Oregon summers, hair too perfectly combed, clothes always impeccably pressed as if he’d just put them on. There was nothing overtly wrong about him, though, other than his making it his personal mission to find out Jude’s story. He held out a hand. “Nice to see you in town.”
Torn between the desire to walk right over this little man and the need not to make a damn scene, Jude gritted his teeth and took his hand. “Jerry.”
The mayor gave him a significant look. “Our new waitress has perked everyone’s curiosity. I knew you’d be in eventually.” He extracted his hand from Jude’s with a grimace, which was what made Jude realize he’d been gripping it too tightly. Jerry continued, undeterred. “So, you and the new girl, huh? One town stranger and another, traveling across untold distances to end up living right next door to each other. It sounds like something out of a novel, though not one of yours, of course.”
That was the other thing about Jerry that pissed him the fuck off—the man had more imagination than was good for him. Jude took a drink of his scalding hot coffee and strove for patience. “If you’ll excuse me…”
“Right, right. Those words won’t write themselves.” He stepped out of the way quickly, almost as if he was uncomfortable being in Jude’s shadow. “It was nice seeing you in town for a change, though. We’re a family here, for better or worse.”
Jude wasn’t staying. Even if by some freak accident he ended up stuck in this little town, he sure as fuck wasn’t interested in a family. He’d lost the only family he’d had before he knew them and he wasn’t looking for a replacement. Caring about people was like issuing handwritten invitations to his enemies telling them how best to hurt him. He couldn’t afford to miss a step because he was worried about anything other than his mission. He wouldn’t allow himself to.
But he couldn’t say any of that to Jerry. The man was already too curious by half, and while Jude wasn’t above taking out problematic individuals, he’d hate to have to kill a man because he couldn’t keep his shit together.
So he faked a smile. “See you around, Jerry.” Then he walked out the door and into the cool summer morning.
The interaction had served to remind him what he was here for. It wasn’t Sloan. She might be a source of information, and she might be an enjoyable distraction in the meantime, but she wasn’t his endgame.
Which meant he had no reason to play nice.
His questionable honor only went so far, after all.
Jude walked out onto the beach, putting some much-needed distance between him and the rest of the town. Only when there wasn’t a single person in sight did he pull out his phone and dial. It only rang once, just like always.
“What?”
“I need some information and I don’t have much to go on.”
Stefan snorted. “When do you ever have much to go on? It’s a good fucking thing I’m a goddamn miracle worker, isn’t it?”
It was true that no one seemed as adept as ferreting out information as the hacker. Jude had only met him in person once—and only because he refused to work with someone he hadn’t seen face-to-face—and Stefan reminded him of a mole or some other underground creature. He kept his apartment closed off from the outside, not even opening the curtains, and surrounded himself with more computer monitors than any man had a right to. From what Jude could tell, he lived on Cheetos and Mountain Dew and didn’t leave his nest, but none of those things mattered, because he was the best at what he did.
Information.
“You’re wasting my fucking time. Give me what you got and I’ll get you what you need.”
Jude glanced over his shoulder, but there was still no one in sight. Even if there had been, the sound of the tide coming in would have drowned out his low words. “A woman—dark hair, dark eyes, petite. Her name is likely Sloan, and she’s just as likely got a connection with Boston and/or the Sheridan family.”