Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) by Blake Pierce (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📗

not be minded. We have to be strong. I get it. I’ve doneit myself. But there’s also a strength in being able to say when you’re wrong.Can you do that, Agent Sharp? Can you let it go?”

Adele swallowed, staring at Paige. For a moment, shewondered what it would have been like to have her own mother here, speaking toher. She wondered what it might have been like to have someone who understood,who could put themselves in Adele’s shoes.

Her stomach twisted again, but also an ache formed in herchest. A longing, and a grief.

To her surprise, Adele found her eyes misting, and sheglanced off angrily, trying not to let Paige see. She was too exhausted for allthis. She needed sleep. She needed to regroup. Maybe Sophie was right. Maybethey needed to return to London and question witnesses more thoroughly. Butmaybe the real clue would be found in Germany. They’d never even spoken to thehusband, and they hadn’t gone through the financials. But what about Italy? Thefoul-mouthed board room member was worth another look as well, wasn’t he?”

And yet, even as she contemplated these thoughts, Adelecouldn’t shake the small niggling worry in her gut. It was becoming more andmore difficult to focus. More difficult to make a choice.

“Well?” Paige insisted, and her tone had softened somewhat.If anything, she seemed gentle. “Are you ready to let this go?”

Adele closed her eyes for a moment. Then she glanced back towardher phone, scrolling to the final address she’d been given. It was close. Onlyten minutes away. Would it be worth it? Would it be worth risking Agent Paige’sanger once more?

“I,” Adele said, hesitantly, trailing off. “I guess maybe…”she began, but then biting back the words.

Paige just stood there, her arms crossed, her expression assevere as ever, but her eyes holding a strange, unusual compassion.

Adele didn’t want to disappoint the older agent. The firsthome had been strange, but this one was normal, just another house. Yes, in thesame region, but far enough away that did it even matter? Still, she glancedback down at her phone, at the third address. The final victim’s house.

They’d come so far…

She nodded, convincing herself first, before, in a shakytone, saying, “I’d like to look at the last place.”

Paige went stiff, her eyes hardening like flint.

“It’s only ten minutes away. I’d like to just check it out.”

Paige breathed slowly through her nose, shaking her head.

“I know you think I’m wasting my time.”

Paige growled, “No, I think you are wasting ourtime. More importantly, I think you’re wasting the time of whoever the nextvictim will be. He’s going to kill again. And we’ll be over here, with ourfingers up our noses, staring at houses.”

Adele winced but pressed, “I just want to check it out.”

“Adele, let me put it this way. You either come with me,return to the airport, or you go on your own. I’m done with this foolishness. Iflew here with you, and you need to know when it’s time to say quit.”

Adele winced. Maybe she was being too stubborn. Maybe…

No. She couldn’t back out now. She’d already made up hermind. Besides, Paige would never be her friend. She wasn’t here to make connections.The less Paige liked her, the safer the older woman was. The fewer people whospent time with her, the safer they all were. The Spade Killer was looking formore victims, no doubt. The closer she got to people the more danger they werein.

So instead of protesting, Adele just shrugged. “Leave ifyou have to. But I’m going to check out the final house.”

Paige snorted, staring at Adele one final time as ifsearching for a glimmer of doubt, but then grunting in disgust, turning on herheel and marching back toward the sidewalk. “I’ll call my own taxi,” shesnapped. “This one smells like fish.”

Adele felt a slight chill along her back, and with nervesstill flitting about her stomach, like a rookie on the job, she turned aroundand began moving through the gate past the Jacuzzi and to the waiting taxi. Thedriver seemed relieved when Adele was the only one who slid into his car and gaveinstructions for the next house.

Paige stared through the tinted windows, glaring at boththe occupants.

Adele refused to look back. She’d come too far to back outnow. Undoubtedly, Paige would call Foucault to complain, to try and get Adelethrown from the case. The third house had to hold the answer for when that callinevitably came.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The tripto the final vacation home was a lonely one. Adele lodged in the backseat, andno sooner had the car scraped to a halt against the curb than she launched outthe back, calling a quick, “I’ll be right back,” over her shoulder.

This final house was the largest of the three. The thirdvictim had only passed away in the last thirty-six hours, and yet, as sheapproached the house, she spotted a man standing out front with a mallet and ayard sign.

The man was pounding the sign into the ground, whistling ashe did.

Adele frowned in the direction of the fellow. Behind him,the house was the strangest of the three. It looked like the renovated portionof some castle. A courtyard angled off where a newer looking garage had beenbuilt, using a similar stonework to match the stony façade of the castleitself. Not a castle in size, so much as build. Stone turrets flanked eitherside of the main hub. Stone walls encircled thick windows. Most of the glass onthe second floor was stained. The house seemed odd, archaic, like something offa postcard or out of a history book.

Adele’s brow twisted, but she summoned her nerves andapproached the man with the mallet.

“Excuse me,” she said.

The man whirled around with a start, his eyes dancing fromAdele to the waiting taxi in the back. He cleared his throat. “Who are you?”

The left side of the man’s face was still, and didn’t movewith the rest of his expression. His eyes were half hooded, his mouth slightlydownturned, suggesting, perhaps, the man had endured a stroke recently. Hisface was wider than his physique might have normally allowed, suggestingperhaps a man who had lost weight, but