Page 10

Isabel hadn’t operated that long without having a few tricks up her sleeve, even while wearing orange.
She was a planner, she was experienced, and she hated when things didn’t go her way.
And she blamed Kilkenny for her current predicament.
All that meant Raisa’s entire body was tensed, waiting for some shoe to drop.
It didn’t take long.
Kilkenny’s phone pinged, loud enough for the judge to shoot a warning look in their direction. The hunger on Isabel’s face was clear and terrifying.
Raisa couldn’t help but glance at Kilkenny’s screen.
On it was a headline.
SEVENTY-TWO HOURS BEFORE EXECUTION, SERIAL KILLER SAYS FBI AGENT’S WIFE WASN’T ONE OF HIS VICTIMS
Beneath it, the subheadline read:
While giving an interview for an HBO documentary, the Alphabet Man admits that Shay Kilkenny, the wife of the FBI agent who eventually caught him, didn’t die by his hand.
Rage burned bright and hot in Raisa’s veins. It wasn’t enough for Kate Tashibi to make sure that monster’s name lived on long after he was put down. No, she had to upend Kilkenny’s life in the process, and for what? A lie and some ratings.
“Kilkenny,” Raisa said, though she wasn’t sure if it was in warning or to comfort him.
It didn’t matter, because Kilkenny pushed to his feet, the courtroom door banging behind him a moment later.
Raisa met Isabel’s eyes across the distance that separated them.
Isabel smiled, a victorious thing that confirmed exactly what Raisa suspected. She wasn’t sure how Isabel had managed to get Nathaniel Conrad to lie about Shay.
But she knew, without a doubt, that her sister’d had a hand in it.
There was no reason to stay around to watch her gloat. Raisa slipped out of the room in a slightly less dramatic fashion than Kilkenny had, but she knew there would be people noting her exit, just as they had his.
Kilkenny had been faster than she would have given him credit for, though. When she searched the area around the courthouse, she came up empty. She called in a favor to get his address, then checked at the FBI office as well. Three texts went unanswered, as did two phone calls.
She wondered if Kilkenny was hiding from the world, hiding from her, or a little bit of both. She wasn’t arrogant enough to think she was front of mind for him right now. Kilkenny had been pulled into her family’s mess on his own—or rather, through Delaney—but it was stillRaisa’sviper nest of a family that had played a role in this.
Or a suspected role, at least.
Raisa wouldn’t blame him if he held her a little bit responsible, even if that wasn’t a completely rational reaction.
She did recognize a brick wall when she ran headfirst into it for several hours in a row, though.
“Shit,” she breathed out.
Because if she couldn’t reach Kilkenny, there was only one other place to turn.
Prisons didn’t make Raisa nervous.
The muffled clang of bars, the guards with guns, the shouts—none of that was what had Raisa’s hands shaking.
It was knowing what she had to do, being terrified to do it, and then sucking it up anyway.
The Styrofoam pieces Raisa had picked off the rim of her coffee cup were tucked in her clenched hand as if she could hide her own nerves the same way.
Turned out, she would march into hell for a person who, three months ago, she had barely considered anything more than a distant colleague.