Blood Line (A Tom Rollins Thriller Book 1) by Paul Heatley (book recommendations based on other books .txt) 📗

He nodded.

He hasn’t shared his suspicions with anyone. He can’t. Can’t run the risk of anyone tipping her off, helping her out. Being on the same side as her.

He can’t trust anyone.

He’s felt sick all day. Carly has not been the only one he’s viewed with suspicion. He’s looked upon all of his fellow agents with wary eyes.

Now he’s pulling up outside Carly’s home. He hasn’t driven straight over from the office. He’s circled a little first, given her a chance to get home. More than that, he was building up his nerve. Preparing himself.

He rings the doorbell, and she’s surprised to see him when she answers. “Oh, hey, I thought you were gonna be busy,” she says. “You get all that work done?”

“Almost. Can I come in?”

She lets him in. Ben goes straight through to the front room. He waits until she joins him, until she gets in front of him so he’s blocking the way out; then he doesn’t waste any more time. “Are you the mole?”

Carly blinks at him. “Uh, what?”

Ben runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth, over his ragged cheeks. “Did you leak the details from my laptop?” he says, speaking slowly. “Did you go onto my laptop, find out about Anthony, and tell the Right Arm of the Republic? Did you tell all the other cells about all the other undercovers and informants? Did you cause the purge? Are you the fucking mole?”

Carly takes her time answering. She tries to play it cool. “I don’t know what to say to that, Ben.”

“Then just answer the question.”

“Ben, I shouldn’t have to answer. You should already know. Do you really think I could do such a thing?”

Ben chews his cheek, feels a piece of flesh come off in his teeth. He looks into her face, into her eyes. He wants to believe her. Doesn’t want to think this could be true. That she has betrayed him. That she was with him only to betray him.

Carly looks right back at him. She’s not backing down. She’s looking into his eyes. She’s daring him to doubt her.

“I need you to answer me,” Ben says, but his voice is weak, it wavers. It’s lost the authority he was earlier able to imbue it with, before she spoke.

“You know I didn’t, Ben,” she says. “You know it wasn’t me. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Ben bites his lips now. He doesn’t know what else to say. He’s losing the situation.

Then there’s a voice. A new voice. It comes from behind him. It’s familiar.

“I don’t know that,” it says.

Ben turns. It’s Tom.

“I don’t know that at all. What I do know is that my brother’s bones were broken, his skull was fractured, and his pregnant girlfriend was murdered in the middle of the road. So now you can look me in the eye, and you can tell me what you’re telling him.”

Carly doesn’t look so calm anymore. “Ben, who is this?” she says. She takes a step back.

Ben is as surprised to see Tom as Carly is. “What’re you doing here?”

Tom doesn’t answer, just stares straight ahead at Carly. He hadn’t liked the sound of Ben on the phone. He came to Dallas. Has followed him since he left the office. Followed his loops around the block, then to here. Had a feeling that if Ben was involved with the woman he suspects might be the mole, that he may not have the nerve to follow through on his accusations. Tom sees that he was right.

“Get out of my house,” Carly says. “Both of you. Get out. Now.”

“Or what?” Tom says. “Answer the question.”

Carly looks between them both. Her eyes silently plead with Ben. Ben can’t look back at her. He gives the room to Tom.

Carly sees this. She grits her teeth. Looks back at Tom. Her earlier, cooler demeanor returns. “So who are you?” she says. “His heavy? Running around doing his paranoid wet work?”

She’s backing up. Tom notices. He watches her.

“What’s he got you doing, huh?” she says. “You said something about your brother, about his girlfriend – what happened to them?”

“I think you know what happened to them,” Tom says.

She backs up into the coffee table, knocks the edge of it. The remote control falls, hits the ground. Tom thinks she did it on purpose. Carly looks back to see what has fallen. She raises her hands. “I’m just going to pick that up,” she says.

“Leave it where it is,” Tom says.

“Just calm down, big boy,” Carly says, already lowering herself, lowering her arms, reaching.

“Stand up,” Tom says.

She snorts at him. “Relax,” she says. “I just hate mess, is all. Ben will tell you it’s true. Isn’t that right, Ben? I can’t leave it lying there. It’ll drive my OCD crazy.”

As she reaches the ground, the remote control, she moves faster. Her hands lash out. There is a gun strapped to the bottom of the coffee table. She pulls it loose. She stands, spins, but Tom has been watching her, expecting this. Ben sees her pull the gun, too. Tom’s own gun is already out. He fires, hits her in the arm, the one holding the gun. She drops it instantly; it hits the floor with a louder clatter than the remote. Ben fires a second after Tom. Carly jerks with the impact of Tom’s shot. As Ben’s bullet reaches her, it hits her in the chest. Through the heart.

Tom snaps a look at Ben, furious. “I had it,” he says.

Carly remains upright for a moment, stunned. She looks down at her chest, where the blood is pumping through her white blouse. She falls back, hits the ground.

Tom goes to her, checks her pulse. She’s dead. “We needed her incapacitated, not killed.”

“How was I supposed to know you had a gun?” Ben says.

Tom looks at him like he’s an idiot for not making such an assumption.

Ben goes to her body, looks down. Carly’s eyes are still open. They look back up at him. He