Secrets of the Dead by Kylie Brant Page A

now, her nine-year bundle of energy, doing dazzling spins, Ollies and stall combinations on his skateboard. He wore a helmet and protective pads, although they hadn’t spared him a broken arm when he’d attempted a homemade ramp just over a year ago.
    “Nice tail stall!” she called out as he executed a move he’d been practicing for weeks.
    “You wanna try one?” came his response as he whizzed by again.
    “I’m good on feet. Not necessarily on wheels.” When her cell vibrated in her pocket, she drew it out of her jeans while keeping an eye on her son. Sarah, the tutor they’d brought along, was taking a much-needed break, and Royce was not above trying an aerial move if he thought no one was watching.
    “When’s Grandma gonna get here?”
    “Soon.” She had to pitch her voice above the sound his board made on the ramp. “A couple more days probably.” Jaid moved away from the source of the noise as she brought the phone to her ear.
    “I can tell from the background noise exactly where you’re at.”
    “Adam.” There was a quick clutch of pleasure at her husband’s voice, despite the fact that they’d been married nearly a year after their relationship from a decade earlier had been rekindled. Given their history, the man knew her better than anyone else did. Perhaps too well. “You haven’t even been gone six hours. We’re really okay. I’m assuming you’ve made it to Atlanta all right.”
    “Just left the briefing.” It had taken her days to convince him to accept the job consulting on a case for the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. He could fly back and forth as he wished, doing much of the work from this estate. There was no reason for both of them to stay here around the clock. Regardless of the luxury of the surroundings, being holed up for weeks on end was like being trapped in a state of suspended animation. Jaid eyed her son. Which was very close to the state Royce was attempting on the ramp. “Warning one,” she called out to him. He shot her an irrepressible grin, but did a quick kick turn and began to coast.
    “It sounds like an intriguing case.” There was a black widow killer at work in Georgia, who had already left behind a trail of six dead men in her wake. From the little he’d told her about the case she’d predicted two women might be working as a team. She could admit, at least to herself, how much she missed the constant mental stimulation of working intriguing investigations, even though there was none as critical as the one that kept her glued to her son’s side.
    “You may be correct about a pair of killers. There was something in the case files I’ll have to dig deeper into. But that’s not why I called.”
    A layer of ice sheeted her stomach. “Gallagher made contact?”
    “He did, yes. Their meeting was with a female. Xie Shuang. Chinese, according to Eve, although at this point there’s no way to know whom she may be working for. I was able to run the photos two of my people took through the international databases. No matches. Prints might be a better bet, but that may come later when Eve and Declan actually begin working with the woman.”
    Jaid considered the information. Tiny steps toward the plan they’d put in place. It was likely only her imagination that progress was being made in infinitesimal increments. She throttled back her impatience. She wanted her son safe. Their lives back. Before she’d get either, they needed to catch the people who would put him at risk.
    “Well, at least things are moving forward. Thanks for the update.” Her tone was wry. “It’s a special kind of hell to have to hear about the progress from afar.”
    “There should be more to report in the next few days. With any luck they’ll try to move on the compound within a couple weeks.”
    She heard something in his hesitation then that had her all her instincts alerting. “What else?”
    “Nothing about the case. I did hear from Stephen Mulder today.”
    “The man