Chasing Shadows (First Wives #3)(64)

Reed scowled. “Aren’t they still on their honeymoon?”

“Yes. And before you scold me . . . I had to call her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s the only one who has Avery on Friend Finder. Guess who isn’t in Seattle?”

“Avery,” Liam said without amusement.

“Exactly.”

“So where is she?” Reed asked.

Lori paused, nose flared. “New York.”





Chapter Twenty-Five

Avery walked out of the print shop holding a hundred copies of the man she was searching for. Much as she wanted to put a reward sign on him and wait for his friends to turn, she figured that probably wasn’t the best idea. Instead, she left the stack in her hotel room after sending a copy to Armstrong.

He called within two minutes of her sending a text.

“This is him?”

“Yup.”

“You’re sure?”

It was only a profile, but it was all she could remember. Maybe it was all she saw. “I’m sure. So go tell all your cop friends that this is the guy.” Not that they would work hard to find him. Still, she had to try.

“Okay. Thank you. You didn’t have to hire an artist. Your tax dollars do pay for this kind of thing.”

“Great. I’ll be sure and tell my new friends you’re hiring.”

Armstrong actually laughed. “We’ll find him, Avery. I’ll do everything I can to get him behind bars.”

Yeah, well, she wanted a shot at him first. One solid punch to the nose, was that asking for too much? Maybe he would attack her again and she could . . .

She blocked out the consequences of those actions and would deal when they came. It wasn’t like she had kids at home, or a husband.

Liam.

Not a husband. Her friends would understand.

Maybe Spider was already behind bars?

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Not sorry.

“Are you back in LA?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Trying to get rid of me, Detective?”

There was static on the line.

“Just making sure you don’t have any vigilante tendencies.”

“Ha.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he said.

Avery reached down and unzipped her boots. “Do I look like a fighter to you?”

“I wouldn’t use that word.”

“What word would you use?”

“The first time I saw you, you were a victim. The next time I saw a survivor.”

“And now?”

He paused. “A warrior.”

She liked that. “I don’t plan on starting any wars.”

Armstrong laughed again. “Women have been starting wars since the dawn of time.”

She kicked her boots to the side. “I’m an army of one, Detective. I doubt I can do much damage.”

He sighed. “Go home, Avery.”

“Have a nice evening, Detective. Take the wife out. It’s Friday.” She hung up.



“God damn it!” Armstrong kicked the side of his tire. Avery’s text came through right as he’d left the station for the night. Now he was marching back inside, pissed.

“Is it Monday already?” Judy, the officer at the desk, joked as he walked past.

“Fuck off.”

She laughed.

His butt hit his chair and he woke up his computer.

Gray poked his head in. “I thought you left.”

“Grant has a sketch.”

“Avery Grant?”

“Yeah.” He sent a copy of the picture she texted him to his computer and brought it up on his screen.

Gray rounded the desk to look at the image. “Half a face.”

“Better than nothing.”

“Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Yeah, but we don’t work Manhattan anymore.”

Gray stood to his full height. “Need my help?”

“No. Go. I just need to send this out and look up a few things.”

Gray pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “This can wait till Monday.”

“Yeah, but she won’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think we have a vigilante on our hands.”

“That little thing?”

Armstrong pressed send to put the image of their suspect, and the case number, out into the police universe. “Hey, Judy could kick your ass.”

“She could try.”

What could Avery Grant do? What was her background? Something told him he was going to come up cold, but he had to look. His hunches were seldom wrong.

“You sure you don’t need me?”

“No. I got it. Go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Gray walked out the door but his voice kept coming. “Sally’s gonna be pissed.”

Shit . . . his wife.



Avery made it into a department store after all. Mainly because she hadn’t packed for a weeklong trip, and it didn’t look like she’d be leaving Manhattan anytime soon.

Now she stood in her hotel room, staring at the few things she’d needed.