Too Late For Regret, Mr. Mckinney

ice was usually a sound Everleigh loved. Today, it felt

ng with her small team, trying to figure

and entered the glass-walled confer

e. "I just heard back from the agency that

r pen hovering over

efinitely postponed." Mia swallowed hard.

onscious rhythm against the cool surface

eed to ask w

ng crept down her spine. He wasn't just threatening her anymo

. Plan B. Mia, get in touch with the reps for the Nasdaq Tow

ooking out at the chaotic ballet of New York traffic below. She had built this place with her own two hands, every

hed over her, so strong it

on the desk. An

s. She hesitated for only a second before

eigh C

d was ice. Pure, distille

an choose the place. Or

nded like he was on the

phone on his desk, his grip tightening. On his desk, n

le page from

parison between a sample from "John Doe

y of Pater

emed to burn

ged it. A discarded ice cream spoon from a playground trash can

he details. His mind was a

dden his s

blood. The anger was so intense it felt like a physical presence in the roo

the heavy leather seat rolling back until it slammed into t

es white. He strode to the window, the city spre

eet. And in return, she had stood in this very city

the paper i

he said to Jamey, his

ith violent precision until it found her nu

eeting, the sound of her voice a spark o

unspoken threat. She could still feel the barely controlled violence in his voice. It was mor

d it was about

to you," she said, he

ed through the line. "Really? T

axis. Her breath hitch

k

. In front of

ne wen

ing. He had found her son. He had found her one vul