Killer Harvest. Tanya Stowe

on.” Officer De Luca interrupted whatever Kopack meant to say. “You said Sam told you his ID bracelet was yours.”

      Surprised, Sassa wiped the tears from her cheeks, sat up and opened her hand. She’d forgotten Sam’s gift. She’d clutched it so tightly during this interrogation that deep imprints grooved her skin. In fact, a small, slightly bloody spot showed where the latch had pierced the inside of her palm.

      “May I see it?”

      Officer De Luca’s request jarred her. Numb, she handed it to him with a jerky motion.

      He ran his fingers across the numbers engraved on the face of the ID plate. “These numbers look like they could be a code of some sort, or maybe a combination.”

      Sassa shook her head and lowered her forehead back onto her hand. “No. It’s nothing like that. Sam’s grandfather was a pastor in Germany during World War Two. Like many other Christian leaders, he protested the treatment of the disabled and the mentally ill so loudly, he ended up in a concentration camp. That’s the number assigned to him. Sam was very proud of his grandfather’s actions. He put the number on that bracelet to honor him. He meant to give it to Christopher. After his son died, Sam told me he wanted me to have it. It has nothing to do with the formula. I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m no help.”

      She looked up and tried to focus on Agent Kopack. “Can I go home now?”

      The agent nodded. “Yes. We’ve arranged for transportation. You’re in no shape to make the three-hour drive back to Fresno.”

      She sighed with relief. “Kingsburg. My home is in Kingsburg.”

      Now Kopack looked blank.

      “It’s a small town a short drive out of Fresno.” Officer De Luca supplied the information. “I’ll take her there.”

      “My agents are perfectly capable—”

      “I’m taking her.” De Luca’s tone allowed for no arguments. He came around to her side of the table and assisted Sassa from her chair. She wasn’t certain she wanted him to make sure she got home safely but the grip on her arm was steady. In fact, his big, broad-shouldered body seemed to be the only thing holding her up. Her legs refused to work. She leaned on him as he half carried her out the door.

      “My bag and my luggage.”

      “I’ve got it, Sassa. Don’t worry.”

      Don’t worry? If only.

      Jared glanced at Sassa in the passenger seat next to him. The minute they’d climbed into his government-issued SUV, she’d pushed the seat back and fallen asleep. Three agents followed behind them; two in her car and another in a government car. Two of the agents would stay to guard Sassa at her parents’ house near Kingsburg. As soon as they dropped her off, Jared and the other agent would return to the small office in downtown Fresno.

      They’d set up a temporary office four days ago when Sam had notified him that June was missing. The FBI had mobilized and was on site quickly. He’d been impressed. The same day he’d returned from Los Angeles and retrieved Sam’s message, they had him traveling to Fresno. Still, it hadn’t been fast enough to save his friend.

      Jared stumbled over the thought of Sam’s death. The Black Knights had moved like lightning. After months of no activity and no contact with Sam, they’d snatched June off the street and attempted to blackmail Sam into handing over the formula. If the Black Knights couldn’t force Sam to hand over the formula, they had a “Plan B” to steal it.

      Whirlwind fast. Jared would never underestimate them again—or rather, he’d never underestimate Nikolai Chekhov. He was the mastermind. A brilliant sociopath. Sassa had called him the Terminator, the robot-like creature from the movie of the same name. She’d referred to the unusual look of his skin and the emotionless features, all caused by the nerve damage that was killing him. But his mind, his brilliant mental capacity, was as robotic as his physical features. Like a computer, the man seemed ten steps ahead of the authorities. At least, he had been so far. They would have to scramble to get ahead. That was Jared’s sole purpose now. He would think further ahead, move quicker and never underestimate Chekhov. He wouldn’t fail again.

      Sassa stirred and groaned. He glanced over. Her neck was in an awkward, twisted position. She groaned again, quiet and soft. A nice sound. Kind of personal. He liked it. In fact, now that he’d finally met Sassa, he’d discovered he liked a lot of things about her.

      She was bright. Jared should have realized that. Sam wouldn’t have chosen an assistant who wasn’t extremely capable. In the interrogation, Kopack had intentionally left out information. Sassa had put the pieces together with skill. Sam’s murder had devastated her. That was obvious. But she hadn’t let emotion control her. She’d responded with a calm balance most people could not have summoned.

      Those capabilities, combined with some nice features—eyebrows with little pointed peaks and bow-shaped lips—made it look as if she was always on the verge of a smile. Her appearance exuded likability. Usually, he didn’t go for curvy women. He preferred them tall and slender like Jessica...

      Thinking of his wife—ex-wife now—was not a good idea. That whole situation had sent him into a tailspin and caused this disaster. If Jared hadn’t been forced to attend his divorce court date in LA, he might have received Sam’s call. He’d have been able to alert the authorities earlier and his friend might be alive today.

      Jared’s jaw tightened. Now he could add that to his list of mistakes. He’d spent the last year of his separation from Jessica going over what he’d done wrong, wondering how he might have changed things to make his marriage work. He still didn’t have the answers and hanging on to a dead marriage had only made him seem pitiful in Jessica’s eyes. She didn’t understand how or why making it work mattered so much to him.

      Sometimes he didn’t understand himself.

      Maybe it had something to do with his grandfather and his Christian values...values Jared wasn’t sure he shared anymore. He’d lost faith in a God that didn’t seem to care. He’d learned that early in life with his alcoholic mother. But he’d been so busy trying to prove himself worthy of all the kind people who’d tried to pull him out of the mess and mire, he’d forgotten who had allowed him to be there in the first place. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he believed God existed anymore.

      One thing was for certain. If He did exist, He didn’t care about Jared De Luca. That was apparent. Everything he’d ever wanted and worked for had been taken away. His marriage with Jessica was only the latest example of that.

      They’d had such plans for their marriage. They were going to go so far, him with his high-profile position in some exotic place like Miami, and Jessica with a PR firm representing big names. Jess had kept up her end of the plan. She’d made a name for herself in Hollywood. He couldn’t blame her for dumping him when his career fizzled and he ended up in the backwater station of Riverside, California.

      Still, the divorce papers had been a shock and had put his life in a nosedive. He’d faced the fact that they were never going to be the power couple they’d envisioned, but he always thought they would work it out...until she told him she’d found someone else. Someone she worked with in the PR firm. A man “much older and more established” she’d said. What she’d meant was the “perfect power partner.”

      Like a fool, he’d gone to Hollywood hoping to convince her to give it one more try before the court session. Their meeting was a pointless, painful debacle that ended in their divorce being finalized...and him not being there to answer Sam’s call when he’d needed him. He’d failed. He should have been there to protect Sam.

      End of sentence.

      Sassa jerked and raised her head, her eyes blinking rapidly. Her hand shot to her neck.

      “Owww.” She rubbed the spot then scooted up in the seat and