Silent Weapon Read Free

of a historical landmark. I found it hard to imagine any of Sawyer’s friends being buried here.
    Did you do this to me? Sawyer demanded. The perpetual glower he wore had morphed into a savage scowl and was directed at the grave at his feet. Since the back of the tombstone faced my position I couldn’t see anything but the surname, Bradshaw. Sawyer’s tendency to constantly survey his surroundings allowed me to follow his words. Celeste, you stupid, coldhearted bitch, I’ll hunt down every friend you had. Every freakin’ relative until I find out who you told. I’ll kill all of ’em. Do you hear me? He smirked. Maybe not. It’s probably hard to hear over all that cracklin’ in hell.
    Celeste? Who was Celeste Bradshaw? Think. My heart pounding hard enough to jar my insides, I squatted amid the bushes near the fence I used for camouflage and tried my level best not to react to the words. The woman was dead, for God’s sake. How could he do this? I gave myself a mental shake. What was I saying? He was a murderer. Nothing he did should surprise me, but somehow it did. At least I didn’t have to worry about him trying to hurt the woman. She was already dead. Surely I could bring him down before he got around to her friends and relatives. A massive weight suddenly settled on my shoulders. I made a mental note as to the location of the grave for future reference, assuming I had a future.
    I’d almost made a horrible mistake. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might blame someone for what he assumed was a leak of information. Maybe this cop business wasn’t for me after all. I hadn’t thought out all the variables.
    Too late to be backing out now.
    He snatched a gun from under his jacket and fired three times into the ground—into her grave. I jerked with each shot, imagining the accompanying explosions and the path of the piercing bullets plowing into the protective vault that entombed the dead woman’s coffin.
    Casting one last sour look downward, Sawyer did an about-face and started to walk away, then hesitated abruptly.
    My heart all but stalled in my chest.
    I held my breath…held perfectly still as he scrutinized the shrubbery that concealed me. Reason told me that I was too far away and hidden too well for him to see me. But I couldn’t be certain. For what felt like an eternity, he stared directly at my position as if some sixth sense had warned him that I was there.
    Please, God. Oh, please don’t let him find me.
    Just when I thought my chest would burst from holding my breath, he walked away. Ten full seconds passed before I could move. I quickly retraced my steps and climbed into the relative safety of my Jetta.
    Thank God. Thank God.
    I watched in the rearview mirror as his SUV tore out onto the highway, and it took every ounce of courage I possessed to execute a U-turn and follow him.
    I stayed as far back as possible while still keeping him in sight. As we moved back into the city limits, tailing him grew easier with other vehicles to use as camouflage, allowing me to get closer. If anything about this could be called easy. I suddenly felt ill-equipped all over again for the task I’d set out to accomplish. Where was all that confidence I’d woken up with this morning?
    Sawyer returned to his office, presumably to resume the business of overseeing his numerous legitimate working assets. I waited in my car a safe distance away but well within sight of the exit and his SUV.
    Three years ago he had purchased more than a dozen convenience stores for the sole purpose of cashing in on the lottery cow. He also owned a number of apartment buildings, which probably contributed to his motive for killing a man. The guy had stood in the way of a major deal and Sawyer had eliminated the problem, though no one, not even the detective assigned to his case, had been able to prove it.
    First and foremost, no body had ever been recovered. That was the essential element of the defense’s entire case.