Free An Act of Deceit: Book 2 of the Sarah Woods Mysteries by Jennifer L. Jennings Page B

door closed. The guy headed down the street and disappeared into the darkness.
         I looked at Carter. “What wasthat all about?”
         “No idea.”
         “I couldn’t see the guy’s face. Should we follow him?”
         “We’re done for tonight. Besides, he’s on foot. Are you suggesting that we drive five miles an hour behind him? That shouldn’t be too obvious,” Carter teased. “Maybe I’ll get some idea who he is when I search her apartment tomorrow.”
         I bit my lower lip and leaned my head back against the headrest. “I didn’t know breaking and entering was part of the job description. What do you expect to find?”
         “If I’m lucky, maybe some sort of connection to Lance Harding.”
     
    * * *
     
     
         We pulled up to my house a half hour later, after filing a stolen vehicle report at the police station.
         “I’ll be here at eight o’clock sharp to pick you up,” Carter said. “We’ll go get you a rental car.” As I reached for the door handle, Carter gently grasped my other arm. “You did a great job tonight, Sarah. Thank you.”
         I smiled and climbed out. Exhausted, I willed my legs to carry me the short distance to the front steps.
     
     

 
     
    Sunday, March 11
     
     
     
    A loud knock on my bedroom door woke me from a sound sleep. I opened my eyes and looked over at the clock on the nightstand: eight fifteen.
         “Mom, are you awake?”
         I sat up just as Brian opened the door, a look of concern on his face.
         “There’s a guy sitting in a brown car across the street. He keeps looking over at our house and it’s freaking me out. Maybe we should call the cops?”
         “Damn it,” I gasped, grabbing my cell from the nightstand. There were three texts from Carter. “It’s okay, honey, he’s my ride.”
         “Where’s your car?”
         “It was stolen last night. I’m getting a rental today.”
         “Why don’t you just drive dad’s car?”
         “I’d rather not.”
         “Who’s the guy waiting for you out in the rust-bucket?”
         “Just a friend,” I said while rifling through my closet.
         Brian shrugged and left the room. I threw on some clothes, grabbed my makeup bag, purse, and jacket, and out the door I went.
          “What the hell?” Carter inquired when I got into his car.
         “Sorry, overslept,” I said, smoothing my hair; there hadn’t been time for even a brief look in the mirror.
         “We have a busy day, and you look like shit,” he said with a smile.
         “Well, you’re not going to win any friggin’ beauty contests, either,” I shot back, studying his bloodshot eyes. “I need coffee.”
         “No time. A lot to accomplish this morning. First stop, Marty’s restaurant. Then we’ll go see about your rental car.”
         I commenced to putting on my face as Carter drove.
     
* * *
        
         Marty’s was a fat wallet type of establishment. The plush furnishings and swanky décor indicated no expense had been spared in outfitting the joint. Marty had been a restaurateur with good taste. The smell of fresh herbs and onions hung heavily in the air. My stomach began to growl.
         An attractive woman in a navy blue outfit strolled toward us. Her black hair was slicked back into a tight bun. She looked all business as she extended her hand and smiled.
         “Abigail Rodrigues,” she said. “You must be Carter and Sarah.” She escorted us to a nearby table. The place was empty at this early hour. “Please make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you some coffee or tea?”
         “No thanks,” Carter said.
         “Actually, I’d love some coffee,” I said. “Black, please.”
         “Sure. I’ll be right back.”
         Carter gave me an impatient glance.
         “What? I need caffeine.”
         He rolled his eyes.