by Jon Mills
“On a private lot, buried in Yosemite National Park. Owned by one William Banks. They have him in custody and a shit load of dead bodies.”
Isabel jumped to her feet, grabbed up her bag and headed towards the door eager to speak with those overseeing the raid.
“Isabel, hold up.”
Cooper caught up with her and grabbed a hold of her arm.
“Cooper, we need to—”
“You’re not going to believe this.”
Her brow knit together. Again he tried to catch his breath. “When asked how they managed to escape, the boys said a man helped them. He locked William Banks inside the same room they had been confined to and then he phoned the FBI.”
“He didn’t kill him?”
“No.”
“Did he leave a name?”
Her heart was beating a little faster.
“Yeah, he did.” He paused. “Jack Winchester.”
She couldn’t hide her smile. “Holy shit.”
Epilogue
The ocean swelled against the shore as Jack prepared coffee in a French press that morning. It had been three months since the boys had been returned to their families. Besides seeing a newspaper article a few days after, he hadn’t given it much thought. His wounds had healed nicely and he was now sporting a tan from the southern weather.
He scooped up an open magazine on boats, took his cup of coffee out onto the small wooden porch that overlooked the turquoise waters and settled down to relax.
He’d been out there around an hour when the sound of a boat’s engine made him glance up. It was getting close to the isolated island, which had only five other homes on it. Folks who lived on the mainland used three of them in the summer, one was owned by an entrepreneur who spent most of his time working on some online business and the other was owned by a retired military vet. The homes were nothing special, at least his wasn’t. His was a small, one-bedroom cottage with a fair size living room, and an open-concept kitchen with a few acres of property. It was peaceful and exactly what he needed after traveling non-stop.
He cupped his hand over his eyes to see a trawler down by the dock. He had considered getting a larger boat but for now he was content with a Mako Pro 17 Skiff. Jack squinted and saw a fisherman step out and tie off the boat. It wasn’t unusual to see the occasional friend of Frank Edwards, his military neighbor, paying him a visit.
It was the sound of feet coming up the small stone walkway to his property that made him glance up again. This time he smiled.
“The Florida Keys? You stalking me now, Winchester?” Isabel said stopping at the foot of his porch. She was wearing a light summer dress, with sandals. The way the light caught her, he could see the outline of her physique.
“How did you find me?”
She stifled a laugh and looked around taking in the landscape of the island. “You tend to leave a lot of shit behind.”
“I got to work on that.”
He laughed and invited her inside.
“This your place?”
He nodded.
“How can you afford it?”
“I’ve done a few odd jobs here and there.”
She glanced up at him and cupped a hand over her eyes to block the glare of the sun. “So you’re thinking of putting down roots?”
“Maybe. Someone told me that I should consider leading a slower pace of life.”
“Is that so?” She paused. “Anyone I would know?”
He smirked and went inside to make another pot of coffee. She followed him in and browsed around while he glanced at her a few times.
“You’re looking well,” she said taking a seat at the breakfast bar.
“A little bit of sun can do that.” He took a carton of milk out of the fridge. “You’re not looking too bad yourself. They still got you working all hours?”
She traced her fingers over the spine of a book he had on a shelf.
“Ah, I’m still in the field but I’m thinking of putting in for some vacation time.”
“Any place in mind?”
She ran a hand through her long dark hair and removed her mirrored sunglasses. “Somewhere local. Perhaps I’ll do a little bit of fishing.”
“Fishing? I didn’t know that was your thing.”
“No? What did you think my… thing was?”
He paused as he poured out two cups of coffee.
“Oh, I don’t know. Long walks through the jungle and the company of insane men.” He let out a chuckle.
“Um, you might know me a little too well.”
He returned with the coffee and handed it to her. Her gaze fixed on him and he noticed her green eyes. They were vast like a forest, and seemed to pull him in. He cleared his throat and diverted his gaze.
“Sugar?”
“One.”
He scooped a teaspoon in, then set a cup of milk beside her. She poured some in and stirred.
“So,” she said taking a sip. “There were a lot of people that went down with that network. William Banks gave up the names of teachers, ministers and politicians. Hell, they even took away the chief of police in Albany.”
“There’s no honor among thieves,” he said taking a seat across from her.
“Certainly not when you’re staring down a term of life imprisonment.”
“That’s for sure.”
She snorted and considered him carefully. The shutters were open and a warm breeze blew in. It was the first time since knowing her that he actually felt relaxed around Isabel.
“I have to say, Winchester, giving your name on the phone was either clever or the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen a person do.”
“I don’t know about that. I don’t see any warrant out for my arrest.”
“How do you know I’m not here to bring you in?”
“Because you haven’t cuffed me.”
“Maybe I was thinking of doing that after coffee?”
“Is that a promise?”
She broke into a warm smile and this time she was the one that looked away. Her cheeks went a little flushed. She set her coffee on the table beside her and her fingers drummed lightly against the wicker chair.
“So what’s next for you, Winchester?”
“Jack. Call me Jack.”
She gave a nod. “Okay, Jack.”
“I don’t know.” He smiled staring back at her and taking her in. “Perhaps I’ll stick around a while, do some fishing, and see what catches my eye.”
THANKS FOR READING
Debt Collector Book #6
Book 7: Narc - Debt Collector 7 is now available.
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About the Author
Jon Mills is originally from England. He currently lives in Canada. He is the author of The Debt Collector series, Lost Girls, The Promise, the Undisclosed Trilogy and many other books under pen names. To get more information about upcoming books or if you wish to g
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