Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
I made the gesture for a phone, but he said a bunch of things I didn’t understand.
What the hell was I going to do? I didn’t know where I was, how to communicate—
“Osterhägen bier,” I said abruptly.
That did absolutely nothing to help. He’d go home to his family tonight and tell them the story of the belligerent, filthy woman who’d shown up in his store with no shoes and demanded beer.
I put my hand to my chest, trying to make him understand. “Osterhägen.”
He turned away to grab something off the back table. It was a newspaper, and he unfolded it, flattening it on top of the counter between us. I didn’t need to translate anything. The front page was a picture of the brewery on fire.
“Yes! Yes! Osterhägen.” I pointed to myself, the picture, and back again. “I was there.”
A thought darted through me.
This is taking too long and Juric will find you. And when he does, he’ll kill this man, who has already seen too much.
I dipped a shaky hand inside my shirt to extract Shawn’s business card and set it down on top of the newspaper. The logo on the card perfectly matched the one on the side of the burning building. I left my fingertips on the paper for a moment, struggling to let go.
“Call him, please. Tell him about me.” I made the phone gesture again, motioning to the card and then myself.
Worry creased the man’s face, and he said something that sounded alarming while pointing at my waist.
Blood stained my shirt below my arm.
“Shawn Dunn. Bitte,” I whispered, backing away until I was against the door.
He moved to come out from behind the counter, perhaps wanting to stop me, but I shook my head and put up my hands. For this to work, I needed him to stay put.
“Nein,” I said. “Nein.”
My wounded body forced the door open, and I went out into the overcast, gloomy day.
Giving up the card had been difficult, but it wasn’t anywhere near as difficult or risky as what I was about to do. The man in the shop would call Shawn. It had been too bizarre for him not to. If I somehow managed to get away, this would only prolong the inevitable. Juric would come after Jason and Laurel again.
There was no way I’d let him get away with what he’d done.
No, Shawn would tell Jason, and they’d devise a plan to save me and get the man hunting my sister. Jason would be able to strike offensively, and without a CIA agent standing in his way.
I wandered back the direction I’d come as the rain began to fall, putting distance between the butcher shop and myself, back to the broken stone wall. When Juric caught me, he wouldn’t suspect I’d made it that far and doubled back.
Because what sane person would do that?
He’d never know about the business card or the butcher shop. He’d continue to believe his location was safe, a secret.
Shit, this was the worst idea I’d ever had, and I was literally gambling with my life.
The cold rain numbed my aching body as I followed the wall away from the road. There was no evidence of civilization here in the forest, except for the stacked stones someone had put there long ago. Only the quiet raindrops and earthy smell of damp leaves.
A large oak provided shelter from the worst of the rain. I curled up beneath it, the lumpy roots uncomfortable and making it impossible to lie down.
I leaned back against the trunk and surrendered to my exhaustion.
28
SHAWN
The ride back to Munich was a blur. When had it become day? I’d phoned my CIO at home and woke him, asking for the number of his best person in networking. Since the email came into an Osterhägen server, we’d start there.
I’d also forwarded the email to Ethan, who gave a vague statement about sending it to their technology department. The struggle against the irrational, possessive desire to not share the image of Kara in her underwear with a bunch of strangers was something I pushed aside.
When we neared the gate to the brewery, Ethan asked to get out. “There’s going to be press.” He unbuckled his seat belt and pushed the door open. “I’ll be in touch.”
It left me alone with my brother to face the blackened building and scorched lawn. I stared out the window as he navigated the car through the throng of reporters who were using my damaged brewery as their backdrop.
“She’s still alive,” Jason said, his voice quiet. “Focus on that. You know she’s tough. She puts up with you.”
I couldn’t even manage a smile. “I’ll shower and get changed and meet you at the safe house,” I said when we pulled alongside my Audi.
“Be careful.”
“You, too.”
Security followed me home. They said they’d remain in the lobby for me because I’d told them I’d only be a few minutes. It wasn’t until I was alone in the elevator that I allowed myself to experience the panic I’d been holding at bay.