Jon floated a couple of inches above the floor at the safe house, his agitation not allowing him to remain still. “How are we going to prove this Stryker person killed you when he’s dead?”
“Go searching for his ghost?” Brody replied. “Not an option, since I seriously doubt he’s hanging around somewhere. He has no reason to.”
“To find out who killed him?”
“I doubt he cares. Anyway, he probably knows.” Brody tapped the screen on the laptop. It belonged to the safe house. One of the amenities for whomever they put under protection there. He’d been able to boot it up, surprised there was no password needed. “I know that between uses they’re supposed wipe the old one but they should have entered a new one. Someone screwed up, or was too lazy.”
Jon drifted over, settled on his feet, and peer
