Page 27 of Concrete Evidence
Determination seized control to face her future with caution and not fear, which meant trusting God’s sovereignty.
Shoving aside the vise holding her mind and body captive, she opened the blinds to evening grayness and the parking lot. For sure the air quality made the outside a risk to breathe. Rather ironic.
She used the hotel’s notepad to list her thoughts, questions, and conclusions.
God manned the control panel. No more doubts. She chose to trust Him for whatever the future held.
What caused Granddad to hide, and where was he?
Would life ever feel normal again?
Would this nightmare ever end?
He’d sent her to see Agent Wilkins, although the man infuriated her with his know-it-all attitude.
Realization twisted as though she’d swallowed a pine cone. Granddad had not killed Liam. Someone else pulled the trigger, an enemy. She didn’t know why Liam was in the cemetery withGranddad or if the man on the motorcycle who’d just threatened her had killed Liam.
But one thing she knew without a doubt—Granddad refused to state his innocence because the killer had him in his sights too, and Granddad would do anything to protect her.
She must move forward to find him and draw out the truth beginning—
The room’s phone alerted her to a call, and she answered to a female voice. “Miss Elliott, a man is here in the lobby who wants to talk to you.”
Her heart seemed to squeeze tight. Had the messenger-assassin shown up? “I’m not interested.”
The young woman relayed the message. “He says it’s important.”
“What’s his name?”
“FBI Special Agent Marc Wilkins.”
18
A WOMAN HADN’T CAUGHTMarc’s attention for a long time, but watching Avery Elliott’s jean-clad figure approach him at the hotel front desk caused him to rethink his statement to Roden. The allure in her pecan-colored hair, deep-blue eyes, and curvy figure had caught him off guard.
Logic slapped him in the face. Avery ElliottIII topped the list of complications he didn’t need.
Marc walked her way. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Her sad eyes met his gaze, then she lifted her chin and showed inner strength. “Has something happened?”
“Not at all. I’d just like to talk.” Marc motioned to the dining area. “There’s a small booth in the left corner away from other people.”
Not a muscle moved on her smooth face. “I suppose. And I have a few things to tell you.”
He gestured, and she led the way to an isolated booth. No danger of anyone hearing their conversation unless they got into an argument. Adozen people occupied the dining area, and the aroma of fried chicken wafted in from the kitchen. A young man from the waitstaff asked for a drink order, and they each ordered a Coke.
“Any appetizers?” the young man said.
Marc glanced at Avery, and she shook her head. His stomach rumbled but that took a back seat to why he needed to talk to her.
Avery turned her attention back to Marc. “Is my grandfather okay?”
“I have no idea. Have you heard from him?”
“No.” She paled. “Do you have a lead? I’m afraid with your father’s and Liam’s deaths, he might be a suspect after what I’d told you. Or he’s the next victim.”
“Miss Elliott, we’re working to find an explanation. However, my father passed from a heart attack. Are you rethinking what you witnessed?”
