But when I pressed my finger against the bandaged wounds on the side of my torso, I realized something much worse. A cold sweat ran down my back, and suddenly nausea washed over me.
“Christ…” I whispered, seized with fear.
This is the work of a professional. My God… everything’s been cleaned. A professional.
Suddenly a series of things came to mind. A string of isolated events. Places, behaviors, ideas, fears, pressures—not only mine, but my wife’s as well. A person. A stranger who had been circling the property for a couple of weeks. Someone I had made very clear should not interfere with my life or the lives of my family. Motives? He certainly had plenty.
And then I thought of her.
It wasn’t true.
It couldn’t be that my wife…
That Anya had sent someone after me?
Without meaning t
