Home > Books > Constance (Constance #1)(59)

Constance (Constance #1)(59)

Author:Matthew FitzSimmons

“She tripped the sensors. We already know someone is here,” Pockmark said dismissively.

Had they been staking out the farm waiting for her to show up here? Here. Which meant Pockmark knew something that only she was supposed to know—the location of her original’s body. Was her body bait? A way to lure her here so they could grab her?

“And this.” The young man held up the Smith & Wesson, still in its holster.

Con’s hand went to her hip, and she cursed silently. At least now she knew what she’d heard hit the floor in her panic to get out of the house.

“Since when is she armed?” Pockmark said.

“Well, not anymore. Are we sure it’s her?”

“We have to assume. Who else would know to come here?”

“Yes, sir,” the younger man conceded. “Maybe she already left.”

“Without her car? No, she’s here.”

“Did we get a hit on the car?”

“Registered to a cleaning service in Richmond,” Pockmark said.

“Who owns the cleaning service?”

“A plumbing supplier in Arlington. We’re still working on who owns that.”

“Weird.”

“Yes,” Pockmark agreed. “Very weird.”

“It’s a big farm, sir. If she made it to the tree line—”

“Then Rodgers would have scooped her up. No, she’s here somewhere. Find her. We can’t afford to miss her again. But non-lethals only. She’s not to be hurt under any circumstances. Anything happens to her head, that man loses his.”

“Understood, s—”

Both their heads craned up toward the sky.

“What the hell is that?” Pockmark demanded, dragging them both against the side of the house.

Con couldn’t see what they were looking at without giving herself away, but Pockmark seemed genuinely spooked.

“I don’t know, sir. Do we have anything in the air?” the younger man asked.

“Call it in. Find out.”

It only took a moment for the younger man to report back. “It’s not ours.”

Con was so intent on not being seen by the two men that she didn’t hear the third man behind her until he grabbed her by the neck and dragged her to a standing position. She yelped and tried to struggle free, but he held her easily.

“Have her, sir.”

“Secure her,” the younger man said, hurrying over with a set of restraints. “Let’s get ready to move.”

Pockmark cupped a hand to his ear to isolate his headset. “Say again. We have her in hand. Say again.” Whatever it was, Pockmark didn’t like it. He tried to argue, but the voice at the other end of the conversation shut him down.

Con felt herself lowered facedown in the grass. The restraints bit into her wrists, and a black bag slipped over her head.

“Stop,” Pockmark ordered. “Let her go.”

“Sir?” the other men said in unison.

“You heard me. Stand down. We’re Oscar Mike. Meet at the rally point in sixty seconds.”

The knee came off her back, and she felt the restraints come off. The hood stayed on, though. She heard them retreat but didn’t move for a long time. What had just happened? Pockmark and his goons had been after her from the beginning. What had they seen up there that had spooked them badly enough to leave her behind? She rolled over and pulled the hood free. Overhead, the sky was storybook blue, and it took her a minute to spot what was up there—the black speck circling high overhead like a vulture, waiting and watching. A drone.

Who did that belong to, and who did Pockmark work for? He had been insistent that nothing happen to her head, so clearly he knew about the cluster of voids that Vernon Gaddis and Brooke Fenton wanted so badly. But Gaddis had had her at Charles Island and let her go. And back in DC, Fenton had claimed that forcibly taking Con wouldn’t work. Well, one of them was lying. Maybe both. But first she needed to get out of there. The problem was she didn’t feel safe simply leaving on her own. Pockmark knew her face, knew the car she drove. He would be out there waiting for her.

She looked back up at the sky. The drone was gone.

That did it. She needed help.

She woke her LFD, praying it got any signal out here. One bar. Not much, but it was enough. Pulling up Detective Darius Clarke’s contact, she dialed the number and let it ring.

Voluntarily calling the police—was that really what it had come to? In a day of firsts, it wasn’t the strangest thing that had happened, but it was up there. At least Levi Greer would finally know the truth.

 59/124   Home Previous 57 58 59 60 61 62 Next End