Flashback
The satisfaction of a tight grouping in the ten ring on her shooting qualification was fading as Alexandra Forsythe sat cleaning her new Glock on her grandfather's front porch.
Charles Bennington Forsythe was rarely jittery. That he was now acting as if he'd been mainlining double espressos for hours was a fact not lost on his granddaughter. When he resorted to pacing the farmhouse porch, she couldn't hold back any longer.
"G.C.?"
Alexandra Forsythe used the nickname with affection and concern. As a child she'd made it up for this beloved man, who was more a father to her than her real one had been, even before his untimely death. "Grandfather" had seemed too distant, and "Charles" far too lacking in respect. The fact that G.C., her shortening of Grandfather Charles, had made her mother wince was merely a side benefit.
He kept pacing as if she'd not spoken, which began to make her jittery in turn. Normally she would not push him, having learned in her years as a forensic scientist for the FBI that patience usually paid off. But this was so uncharacteristic of him that she found she couldn't just ignore his mood.
The afternoon breez ... read full excerpt from Flashback ebook
