Surveillance (Ghost Targets Book 1) by Aaron Pogue Read Free Book Online Page A

table tucked in a back corner. She had never done a lot of entertaining, so that was more than enough. She had eight small boxes of belongings in a storage unit in Brooklyn, and she could get those delivered while she was at work tomorrow, but she'd need a change of clothes and some toiletries. The complex would probably have a welcome service capable of setting her up, but she decided on a whim to run into town later and pick up some necessities. It would be fun.
    First things first. She set upon her chow mein like a man starving, and finished her entire meal without stopping to take a drink. Hathor had  ordered a Coke for her, so she took it over to the plush love seat in the living room and crashed in front of a dark television, taking occasional sips and enjoying a moment of deep silence.
    After a while, her lips quirked into a smile, and she said, "Hathor, connect me to Dad."
    She waited for the timeout, and started a new message. Then she discovered she had no words. She sat there in silence, staring at the wall as her smile faded. Once again, Hathor snapped her out of it with a buzzed warning.
    She shook her head and said simply, "I'm scared." Her dad wouldn't like that, but it was the plain truth she'd been hiding from all day. "Dad, in Brooklyn I was the big dog. Out here, I don't even know where to start."
    She took a calming breath and spread her hands before her. She thought about it for a moment and smiled. "But you know," she said, "after what I saw today, I don't think I could go back."
    She told him all about it, forgetting her decision to go shopping. She told him about the Cincinnati kids and then went on to describe the doctored Hathor report from the Secret Service case. Even though she recognized the subtle buzz of Hathor censoring some of the more sensitive details, she laid it all out. In town for a day, and already she was caught up in plots she could barely imagine.
    Again, she knew all too well how her dad would react if he were on the line. Even with thirty years on the force, he wouldn't have a clue how to investigate this stuff. In her imagination she could hear his low whistle, and the words that had been plaguing her all day long. "How do you even deal with somebody so far outside the law?"
    And once again, she had absolutely nothing to say. After a long moment, she sighed. "I don't know. I know it's only my first day and all, but I've got my case and I've spent hours battering at it, and it just kills me because I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to be doing."
    She frowned. "I know what you would say. 'Give it time.' That's what Rick says, and he's my boss, but...it's just...." Her breath caught, and she made sure it didn't come out a sob. She wanted to admit that she was only getting frustrated to hide from the fact that she was lonely. Or homesick. Whatever. She wanted to tell him she missed him. But, as she reminded herself for probably the tenth time that day, she knew how a cop behaved, and it wasn't like a scared little girl. Her dad didn't need to hear about all her little problems.
    She glanced at her watch, just for something to do, and said, "Oh, holy cow. It's late, Dad, and I've got work to do tomorrow." She smiled. "Thanks for keeping me company." She wished for an answer, one real word of encouragement, but it was a voicemail after all. Her smile turned sad, but didn't go away. "Goodnight, Dad," she said. "Goodbye."
    The click from Hathor let her know the line was dead. She glanced at her watch again, and thought about going shopping anyway. Someplace would be open. She didn't really want to anymore, though. She contacted the front desk to request a welcome basket, and the system told her one was waiting in her mailbox. She grabbed her handheld, pulled up her apartment details, and found a map to the mailboxes, right down on the other side of the courtyard.
    The welcome basket was a cardboard box with a handful of necessities. She dumped it in a pile on the kitchen table,