She’d arrived at twilight. For a moment, she appreciated the fine lines of the house, and the size of it. She’d been in New Orleans plenty of times before, and she had always loved the city and the architecture. But Jackson Crow was supposed to have been there. She had a key, but she didn’t want to take him by surprise. He had been an ace agent who had brought down one of the country’s most heinous serial killers of recent times. He might be quick on the draw. Hopefully, a member of the Behavioral Science Unit of the bureau would have the sense not to shoot her, but she did know that he’d been out on leave, and she really didn’t want to die that way. She knocked again, saw the bell and rang it, and waited, and no one came. He was in the city, she knew, because she’d received a terse text from him. At the house. She hadn’t even known how to reply. Good? Good for you, hope you’re comfortable? About to board the plane, seemed the simplest response. She checked her phone.
What do You think about Krewe Of Hunters 1 Phantom Evil?
