Page 25 of The Devoted Game

“I think you should add my number to your cell,” she suggested, reaching into her purse for her fob. She hit the remote to unlock the vehicle’s doors. If they were going to be working together, they might as well act like partners. “And I want you to know I appreciate your vote of confidence. That you trust me enough to work closely with me, is”—she shrugged, going for nonchalance—“flattering.”

Oh God. Did that sound as stupid as she thought?

McBride took one last drag from his cigarette before putting it out and finally meeting her gaze across the hood of her SUV.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it trust, Grace,” he corrected in that arrogant way that he somehow managed to pull off as sexy. “My options were limited, and you seemed like the safest bet. Let’s just hope we can get through this without regretting it.”

There was something about the way he said the words, the blatant uncertainty coming from the man whose reputation as the best had been unparalleled, unmarred by failure—except that once—that triggered her own insecurity.

For the first time in her career she wondered if she really had what it took to do this. What if everyone else was right and the past had damaged her somehow and doomed her to failure?

Only one way to find out.

Eight

Walmart Supercenter

Hackworth Road, 11:00 p.m.

Almost time.

Martin’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He had planned for so long. Waited and waited. Finally the time had come.

Nothing could stop him from succeeding with this mission.

At first the most difficult part of this challenge had been how to avoid the surveillance cameras. Every Walmart was outfitted with equipment for continuous monitoring of both the interior and exterior of the building, including the parking lot. The idea made a person wonder about the clientele of a business that found such all-encompassing surveillance necessary.

But Martin knew it wasn’t entirely Walmart’s fault—or the everyday ordinary shopper’s, for that matter. Unfortunately, as Walmart should have learned, there were ways to get around even the tightest security. It was such a shame there weren’t more heroes like Special Agent Ryan McBride around to protect the innocent.

Rage lashed through Martin at the idea that those FBI fools had set McBride aside as if he were unimportant.

They had used him for their own purposes, then tossed him away as if he no longer mattered. Martin knew this for a fact. He and Deirdre,his beloved wife, had watched McBride’s career from the first time they had seen him on the news.

“Idiots,” he grumbled. Most of those FBI fools were nothing more than rats trapped in their humdrum offices, running around in circles and bumping into dead ends at every turn. None of them were as good as McBride. All put together they could not hope to fill his shoes.

Solving crime was Martin’s passion. He and Deirdre watched all the good crime and investigation programs on television. Not the make-believe ones likeLaw & OrderorCSI.The docudramas that exposed the true story behind real-life events. They followed cases in the news religiously until their resolution. Nothing was more frustrating than having a case go unresolved, like the one involving young Natalee Holloway from right here in Alabama who had been abducted on her high school class trip to Aruba. McBride should have been on her case.

Foolish, foolish FBI.

Martin would show them. Walmart’s cameras wouldn’t stop him. He was well out of range and his plan was foolproof. Utterly and completely foolproof. He had studied the behavior of one employee in particular for a very long time. Some part of him had always known that his connection to her would play some pivotal role one day.

Now, that day had come. A few minutes from now, the next stage of his strategy would be set in motion.

Shewould have been first, but then he had read in the newspaper about the sealing of tombs at the cemetery. The concept hadn’t been part of his original strategy, but his dear, sweet wife, his beloved Deirdre, had found it inspiring and urged him to use the opportunity. He could never let her down.

Whatever she wanted, she would have.

But now he was back on schedule with the oblivious Mrs. Katherine Jones.

Five nights per week Katherine left her second-shift job at Walmart and drove home to her empty house. Her husband had been killed in an automobile accident two years ago, and she had chosen not to remarry.Martin understood that kind of loss. There was no way to replace a lost loved one.

There was only vengeance, atonement, and mercy. Before he was finished, those FBI rats would know all three intimately.

For Katherine Jones, life had been so sad for so long that she wondered at times why she bothered. Approaching fifty now with no children and no prospect of romance, she had decided that nothing would change this monotony of sadness. She had said so in the journal she kept on her bedside table. She had also written about her one mistake ... that long-ago blip in time for which she had never forgiven herself. She remembered that evening, not as vividly as he, of course, but she had not forgotten.

She would never forget.

Katherine Jones needn’t worry that her life was over. Her time had finally come. Tonight was her night. Her life was about to change, to become a part of something much bigger. This was her chance to redeem herself, to make up for that one momentary lapse that had cost so very much.