Page 130 of Allegiance

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Page 130 of Allegiance

Jinx hoped it was enough.

Then, she saw it.

The two cops stared at her, and there was lust and calculation.

Yeah, she’d bet that the cops weren’t only making missing people disappear, but they were also grabbing them when one crossed their paths.

She’d bet on it.

These guys were not only dirty but sick too.

“Mrs. Wilcox, I’m Detective Cecil Schultz, and this is my partner, Detective Stellan Sterling. We talked to you on the phone about your missing husband.”

She clutched her chest, trying to keep them focused on her body, and not her face. She wasn’t sure if they ran her or not, and she was being careful.

Not because they might hurt her.

No.

Because if they ran, she had to find a way to stop them, and that meant death. If they died, Jagger couldn’t interrogate them.

“Oh, please come in. I’m so worried. I’ve only been married a year, and my husband is older. He’s never done this before, and I have no one else to call. My family is deceased, and he’s my only lifeline in the city. You have to help me find him!”

The more she told them she was alone, the happier they looked.

That was all it took.

They followed her into the house, and when they were inside, they passed a closet.

From it, Rogue was watching, and the detective who wasn’t wearing a sportscoat had zip ties tucked into the back of his pants.

There was no doubt what they were going to do.

Someone was going to be abducted.

He’d bet on it.

It appeared that these two cops were all about taking what wasn’t theirs. Jinx had a husband, and that was not happening.

That was a negative.

He was worried, but he almost wished he could see their faces when his wife went all Mamba on them. That was always a good time.

One would be out cold before the other even suspected anything.

“In here,” she said, luring them to the biggest space where she could move more freely. Honestly, she was surprised they let her get this far.

A smart predator would have struck the second she turned her back. That was going to be a big mistake.

For.

Them.

She took a picture from the mantle in the living room of an older man, using all of the props that she could.

“Here he is,” she said. “This is my husband, James Wilcox. Please find him.”

The one man pulled out his pen and notebook. Then, he focused on her.




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