Page 67 of Shadow of Death
“Um, sure.”
Hunter watched as Amy began with a basic face, letting Ian tell her how to shade it in to get an idea of the way the woman who had once approached him looked. Narrower cheeks, a bit younger, not a kid, not old...eyes, hair...
Hunter stepped in as Amy was fixing the brows on her creation. He frowned, feeling a strange, heated, and angry sensation sweep through him. He set his hand on the table and looked at Amy.
“Remarkable,” he said.
She looked back at her drawing and then at him, winced and nodded slowly.
“Ian, thank you,” Hunter said. “We’ll still have an artist coming in, but...trust me, you’ve helped already. Amy, let’s get some sleep. I believe we’ll be traveling tomorrow.”
“I—I’m glad if I helped,” Ian said.
Hunter and Amy smiled and nodded and stepped from the room at last.
They’d found Mateus, previously Leonard Filmore, and he was dead.
Now, Hunter believed they knew who Mother Mary just might be, too.
“You saw what I saw?” Hunter asked Amy.
“I mean, I’m not a great artist, I—”
“Amy, the drawing sure as hell looks like Hayden Harper.”
Amy nodded miserably. Andy Mason emerged from his office and headed their way.
“Ian just talked and Amy did a sketch. Her sketch resembles a supposed victim—Hayden Harper,” Hunter said.”
“But my sketches aren’t... Well, I’m not a professional sketch artist.”
“Professional or no, she’s good,” Hunter told Andy. “But let’s make Amy feel better. Do we have any sketch artists on now?”
“We do,” Andy said. “I’ll get one in there. And don’t worry. We’ll keep Ian in holding here for the night and worry about what to do in the morning.” He hesitated and shrugged. “Between every law enforcement agency, we are running thin on protecting this many people. We’ve got to get a handle on whatever the hell is going on.”
“I swear, Andy—” Hunter began.
“No, no, I know you and Amy are about run dry, too. I didn’t mean that. Go. I’ll get done here what I can—”
“We’ll be back in early. We’ll see what the next drawing looks like. Ian may have just given us something we need, and the fight might be moving south again.”
Andy nodded grimly. “Sleep,” Andy said, and grimaced. “We’ve all been in this game, and we all learn being zombies doesn’t help anyone. Decisions in the morning.”
“You need some sleep, too,” Amy told him.
“Not to worry—I get to sleep,” Andy assured her.
At last, Hunter escorted Amy out of the building. She fell asleep in the car. Hunter didn’t wake her. She was still sleeping when they reached the hotel’s parking lot.
He smiled as he watched her. Life was strange. In the most god-awful circumstances, they had come together. He had found the woman he loved, a life partner, in the middle of pure horror.
An intended Armageddon.
That made him wonder about the endgame, but he couldn’t dwell on it then. He exited and walked around, wondering if he could lift Amy out of the car and just carry her up to the room.
But her eyes opened as he reached in for her and her brows arched in a questioning shape.
“I was going to try and let you stay asleep,” he told her. “You know, carry you romantically through the lobby, onto the elevator and into the room.”
