30
The man calling himself Simon Reid peered through the blinds of an upstairs bedroom window. He ran a hand through his gray-frosted, sandy hair, his pale-blue eyes narrowing behind his glasses. The street below was quiet.
Not that he expected much less with a police car parked across from the house.
He uttered a sigh of frustration. It had been a very long night. First, he had been jumped at the retirement home by a gang of masked thugs and dragged to the basement of an abandoned mansion, only to be rescued by Kira Brightwell. His lips twitched at the irony.
He knew rescuing her from her accident and taking her to the hospital had been a good idea. Everything had come full circle.
But then he had been taken down to the police station for what had seemed like an eternity. He had gone
