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She was older now, of course. But even after all these years he had still recognized her. What were the chances he’d found her? And that she was a reporter, covering his…work. He didn’t believe in coincidence. It was almost as if it were meant to be.
Allan’s inner voice—the voice of reason—spoke.
She got away and you got lucky. It’s too dangerous. You have to forget about her now.
Pick someone else.
He’d gotten rusty, that was all. Too much time spent trying to keep a low profile, until his darker urges had finally won out. No more Mr. Sloppy, he admonished himself.
The morning’s paper had said the FBI’s Violent Crimes Unit was being called in. That couldn’t be helped now and truth be told, it made Allan feel important.
His lips formed a thin smile as he thought of Special Agent Eric Macfarlane and the bond they had shared.
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