Had someone been inside her cottage? And if so, why?
Eric had not bothered to turn on the light. He pointed to the desk in the corner near the sliding glass doors, and she noticed the drawer ajar in the darkened room. A few of her notes were scattered on the floor, the various files sheâd collected from the private investigator shuffled through as if someone had searched them.
Her pulse clamored. Someone had been there. But why would they be interested in her files?
Ericâs hand gently touched hers. âSomeone was in here.â
She jerked her head up. âI know.â
âDo you have any idea why?â
Because they know why youâre in Savannah, she realized. And they donât want you to learn the truthâ¦.
Eric CaldwellâA scarred man in search of revenge.
Melissa FaganâShe was abandoned as a child and is on a dangerous quest to find her identity.
Luke DevlinâEricâs FBI contact. Does he know something about CIRP that heâs hiding?
Ian HallâThe new director of CIRP. Is he whom he claims to be?
Arnold HughesâThe former director of CIRP who is wanted by the police. Has he resurfaced from the dead with a new face?
Candace LatoneâIs this psychotic woman really Melissaâs mother?
Robert LatoneâThis powerful foreign diplomat will kill anyone who threatens his power and his name.
Edward MoorâLatoneâs right-hand man and confidant.
Dennis HopkinsâA scientist dabbling with brainwashing techniques.
Wallace ThackerâA chemist who has recently transferred to CIRP. Could he be Hughes?
Helen AndersonâThe elderly nurse has been at the research hospital for years. Does she have secrets that might help Melissa find her birth parents?
Walter StinsonâOne of Melissaâs patients. Did he really lose his leg to diabetes?
Louise PhiligreenâA confused woman who lost a baby years ago.
Eric Caldwell walked a fine line with the law, but he didnât care. He had trusted the Feds before and people had died. He didnât intend to let it happen to this witness.
Even if he and his brother, Cain, fought again. Cain, always the good guy, the one on the right side of the law. The man who never saw the grays.
The only color Eric did see.
âCome on, Eric, whereâs the witness in the Bronsky case?â Cain asked.
âWhat?â Sarcasm laced Ericâs voice. âDid the police lose another witness?â
âWe do the best we can,â his brother said. âDo you know where he is?â
Eric grabbed a Marlboro and pushed it into the corner of his mouth. âSorry, canât help you, bro.â
Cain hissed, his message ringing loud and clear. Eric was lying, but Cain knew better than to push it. Eric would do whatever he could to keep the witness alive. âYou canât go around undermining the cops and the FBI, Eric, or killing every criminal who escapes the system.â
He glared at Cain over the duffel bag heâd been packing. âI didnât kill anyone.â
Cainâs gaze turned deadly. âI donât want to see your vigilante ways get you in trouble. Itâs like youâre on a death mission, taking everything into your own hands.â Cainâs voice thickened. âOne day youâre going to cross the wrong people.â
Eric ignored the concern in Cainâs warning, zipped his bag, then threw it over his shoulder, grabbed his keys and strode toward the door. âLike you donât cross the wrong kind all the time.â
âItâs not the same thing,â Cain argued. âI have people covering me. Youâre on your own.â
Eric hesitated. âYou could quit the force and help me. Make it your New Yearâs resolution.â
âNew Yearâs has come and gone,â Cain said. Their gazes locked briefly and Ericâs stomach clenched. His brother was serious. âJoin the force, Eric, and work with the law, not against us.â
But Eric could not fit the mold. âI guess we hit that impasse again.â He snagged his laptop off the counter.
Cainâs jaw tightened. âWatch your back. If you get into troubleââ
âThen youâll be there to help me.â A cocky grin slid onto Ericâs face. âNow, Iâd love to stay and talk politics but I gotta go.â