Mortal Faults Read Free Page B

ways to earn a living.”
    “How long have you been at this?”
    “Eight years.”
    “Background in law enforcement?”
    “You mean, did I get canned because I was a cop who didn’t play by the rules? No. I’ve never worn a badge. My background is in psychology. I have a master’s degree.”
    “You’re a shrink?”
    “I’m not licensed. It’s just my academic training.”
    “How did somebody start off in psychology and end up being a ...?”
    “A personal security consultant? I thought it would be more interesting than sitting in an office all day listening to people’s phobias. I wanted to do fieldwork.”
    “Psychological fieldwork.”
    “That’s what my job consists of, basically.”
    He grunted, taking this in. “Have you always worked freelance?”
    “Yes. I used to consult to security firms. I was an off-the-books contractor. Now I work for clients directly. No middleman.”
    “You come highly recommended—though I probably shouldn’t mention any names.”
    “It’s best to keep my clients’ names out of this. The work I do is confidential.”
    “So I can count on you not to talk about what you’re doing for me?”
    “I haven’t agreed to do anything for you yet. But yes, you can count on my silence. If I ever started blabbing about my clients, I’d be out of business in a hurry.”
    “A woman who knows how to keep her mouth shut.” Reynolds grinned. “You may be unique.”
    His charm, if such it was, wasn’t working on her. “I like to think of myself as discreet.”
    “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I thought you’d be younger.”
    “How could any woman possibly take that the wrong way?”
    He didn’t seem to notice her sarcasm. “Well, I guess it’s good you’ve got some miles on you. I’m paying for experience.”
    “I have plenty of experience.”
    “I’ll bet you have.” He said it with a peculiar emphasis. “How many jobs have you done?”
    “I stopped counting. Roughly a hundred.”
    “A hundred cases in eight years? You’re a busy little beaver, aren’t you?”
    She wasn’t sure she liked the “beaver” reference. “I stay active.”
    “These bad guys you deal with—you have to cozy up to them, right? And sometimes do more than get cozy?”
    Now she grasped the subtext. She was no better than a hooker in his eyes. “I try to remain in control of the situation,” she said. He could ask Leon Trotman about that.
    “Anyway, I’m told you’re the go-to gal when there’s a dirty job to be done.”
    “How flattering.”
    “Don’t misunderstand. The service you perform—it’s necessary. Not always pleasant, but that’s life. a lit of people don’t have the stomach to do what needs to be done. They’re wishful thinkers, romantics. You and I—we’re realists. We know how the world works.”
    She disliked being included in his company. “What can I do for you, Mr. Reynolds?”
    “I’m running for reelection. I’ve been doing a number of campaign appearances locally. A particular woman has attended nearly all of them. She stays toward the back of the crowd.”
    Abby shrugged. “Political supporter. Stringer for a local newspaper.”
    “I don’t think she’s either of those things. I think she’s someone who was formerly in my employ.”
    “You recognized her?”
    “I’m not sure. It’s been years. And her hair is different. It could be a wig. At the outdoor events she wears sunglasses. What I’m saying is, it’s hard to tell.”
    “But there’s a resemblance to someone in your past.”
    “Yes.”
    “When did you start seeing this woman in the crowd?”
    “Three, four weeks ago. I began coming home on weekends to do campaign events. Fundraisers, rallies, town hall meetings. At the ones that are open to the public, she’s almost always there.”
    “And does this ex-employee hold a grudge against you?”
    “She may.”
    “Why?”
    “The obvious reason. I terminated her employment. She was unhappy about that.”
    “What