by Mary Stone
By the time she’d finished catching up with Dan and Blake, Wesley had corralled Clay over by the kitchen. The FBI agent threw back his head and laughed at whatever Wesley said, making Ellie smile. The two of them together were the best kind of trouble.
She watched them until her mom pressed a champagne glass into Ellie’s hand. “Merry Christmas, Eleanor dear.”
Helen Kline looked exquisite with her flame-colored hair piled on top of her head and emerald-cut diamonds flashing from her ears. Ellie and her mom hadn’t always seen eye to eye about Ellie’s job, but in the end, the Kline matron had come around.
“Merry Christmas. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too.” Ellie’s mother blinked before narrowing her eyes. “Wait, is something wrong?”
Ellie laughed. “No. Tonight, everything is just right.”
Her mother’s astute gaze studied Ellie for several more seconds before she nodded. “I agree. Or at least, everything will be all right once we corral these ruffians in the dining room. Shall we?”
Helen Kline held out her arm for Ellie to link hers through. Together, they led the group to the elegant dining table laden with holiday china and glittering crystal, while Ellie once again counted her blessings.
The last week had been tough, but now was the time for Ellie to let go of her cases and focus on all the wonderful things in her life. She settled into her chair, determined to do precisely that. As her gaze roved over each and every person at the table, her heart swelled and began to overflow.
Yes, Kingsley would have to wait. For the next few days, Ellie was going to count her blessings and draw from the well of good in her life.
After the holidays, she’d be back to sifting through evil soon enough.
31
Milos sat alone at a high-top table near the bar, sipping his IPA and pretending to read a newspaper. The scattered TVs were all tuned-in to college football. Most of the other patrons chatted and drank while keeping one eye on the nearest screen. Every once in a while, a cheer would go up when someone’s favorite team carried the pigskin into the end-zone. The rowdiness of the celebrations increased as the sun beyond the tinted windows sank out of view.
“Yeah, baby! Way to go, Hurricanes!”
He surveyed the man who’d jumped to his feet to pump his arms in the air and perform an excited little dance. He wondered idly why the dancer was so excited about a team from a state that was over two thousand miles away, or if the man had ever even been to Miami before his gaze drifted back to the couple tucked away in a booth near the back.
The light hanging over that back booth was out. Whether a coincidence or by design, Milos wasn’t sure. He only knew that the poor lighting made his job more difficult, especially since his perspective only gave him a view of the woman’s profile. That was okay, though. Difficult didn’t faze him. In that way, he was like a spider…he knew his patience would pay off.
As if he had all the time in the world on his hands, he sipped his beer and waited. Eventually, the man in the booth signaled a passing waitress over to them.
He leaned forward.
Sure enough, the dark-haired woman turned her face in his direction as she smiled at the waitress and placed her order.
He lifted his phone, zoomed in, and snapped a photo before scrolling to his gallery to compare. With the low lighting and distance, his shot wasn’t perfect, but that was also okay. He wasn’t here for his photography skills.
His assignment was clear: locate the woman in the picture his boss had provided. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that the woman he sought and the woman seated in the booth were one and the same.
A rare smile formed on a face that had been called everything from cadaverous to creepy.
Gotcha, Katarina Volkov.
An hour later, the couple closed out their tab and left the bar. He tossed enough cash on the table to cover the tab and a fifteen-percent tip. No more, no less. Always left fifteen percent because a run-of-the-mill tip meant not standing out. In his line of business, blending in was key. After waiting ten seconds, he followed the couple out.
The woman kissed the man from the booth before climbing into her car. As she reversed out of the parking spot, he surreptitiously snapped a photo of the license plate.
That task complete, he headed to his car and exited the parking lot in the same direction he’d watched the woman turn, allowing another car to pass first so that there was a buffer between them. He bided his time, always keeping at least eight car lengths between them.
Ten minutes later, Katarina Volkov pulled into a driveway.
He continued driving past until he reached the end of the street, where he turned left and cruised the neighborhood for exactly five minutes. When he was certain he’d given it enough time, he circled back around and headed down the woman’s street from the opposite direction.
As he approached her address, he eased up on the gas, readying his phone in his right hand. Once his nondescript Ford rental drew even with the neat little house, he held his thumb down on the screen. The camera shutter clicked multiple times in rapid succession, snapping pictures as he passed.
He didn’t stop or park. He knew better than to risk any unwanted attention. Besides, he had what he needed. For now.
He continued down the street and out of the neighborhood until he hit the main drag. A right turn and a mile later, he pulled into a drugstore parking lot. The only thing saving the squat brown building from ugliness was the sweeping view of mountains in the background.
After checking his rearview mirror to make sure he wasn’t followed, he pulled up his pictures and texted several of them to his boss. Images of both the house and the woman’s face.
Less than thirty seconds after he hit send, his phone dinged.
Good job. Wait for further instructions.
The reply made him smile as he tossed his phone to the passenger seat. That text might read like faint praise to most, but from his boss? The text qualified as effusive. Good job meant his boss was pleased with him, and in his mind, that was a fortuitous thing.
People who displeased Abel del Rey tended to wind up dead, and Milos planned to live for a very long time.
The End
To be continued…
***The next in the Ellie Kline Series (#8) is scheduled for FEBRUARY 2021!***
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A killer is watching… Thirteen years ago, Winter Black came home early from a sleepover to find her parents brutally murdered and her little brother gone— taken by a serial killer called The Preacher. Now a rookie FBI agent assigned to her first murder case, Winter has returned to the small Virginia town where she grew up. But when bones found by a hunter lead to the discovery of a secret burial ground containing the remains of children, the investigation suddenly hits close to home. Will they find her brother’s bones in the makeshift graveyard next? Click HERE to Get Your Copy Now!
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Ellie Kline Series
Cold Truth (Ellie Kline Series: Book One)
Cold Hunt (Ellie Kline Series: Book Two)
Cold Threat (Ellie Kline Series: Book Three)
Cold Highway (Ellie Kline Series: Book Four)
Cold Grave (Ellie Kline Series: Book Five)
Cold Shadows (Ellie Kline Series: Book Six)
Ellie Kline Book 8 is scheduled for a February 2021 release!
Acknowledgments
How does one properly thank everyone involved in taking a dream and making it a reality? Here goes.
In addition to our families, whose unending support provided the foundation for us to find the time and energy to put these thoughts on paper, we want to thank the editors who polished our words and made them shine.
Many thanks to our publisher for risking taking on two newbies and giving us the confidence to become bona fide authors.
More than anyone, we want to thank you, our readers, for clicking on a couple of nobodies and sharing your most important asset, your time, with this book. We hope with all our hearts we made it worthwhile.
Much love,
Mary & Donna
About the Author
Mary Stone lives among the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains of East Tennessee with her two dogs, four cats, a couple of energetic boys, and a very patient husband.
As a young girl, she would go to bed every night, wondering what type of creature might be lurking underneath. It wasn’t until she was older that she learned that the creatures she needed to most fear were human.
Today, she creates vivid stories with courageous, strong heroines and dastardly villains. She invites you to enter her world of serial killers, FBI agents but never damsels in distress. Her female characters can handle themselves, going toe-to-toe with any male character, protagonist or antagonist.
Discover more about Mary Stone on her website.
www.authormarystone.com
Donna Berdel
Raised as an Army brat, Donna has lived all over the world, but no place has given her as much peace as the home she lives in with her husband near Myrtle Beach. But while she now keeps her feet planted firmly in the sand, her mind goes back to those cities and the people she met and said goodbye to so many times.
With her two adopted cats fighting for lap space, she brings those she loved (and those she didn't) back as characters in her books. And yes, it's kind of fun to kill off anyone who was mean to her in the past. Mean clerk at the grocery store...beware!
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