The Federal Agent Who Returned to Reclaim Her Shattered Home and Child
They had given her a pediatric sleeping aid, likely mixed into her juice.
I pulled the pink quilt up to her chin and kissed her forehead.
“I am here, baby,” I whispered. “I am going to take you home.”
I stood up and placed the fourth transmitter behind the wooden headboard of her bed.
If anyone entered her room, I would hear every breath.
“Fourth active,” I told Marcus.
“Understood,” Marcus said. “We have complete coverage of the estate now.”
“I am moving back to the corridor,” I said.
I stepped out of the nursery and pulled the door closed until it latched.
As I turned, I heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the main staircase.
I pressed myself into the recess of the linen closet door.
Grant walked past, holding a stack of manila folders.
He looked tired, his tie loosened and his collar damp with sweat.
He entered the study and closed the door behind him.
Through my earpiece, I heard the audio from the third transmitter activate.
“The Delaware bank just initiated the pre-authorization,” Grant said.
“Excellent,” Vanessa replied. “Input the transfer code.”