Flashback

Flashback
Justine Davis

THE WOMEN OF ATHENA ACADEMY WERE BECOMING KNOWN AS A FORCE FOR JUSTICE AROUND THE WORLDAnd when new clues surfaced about the decade-old murder of Athena Academy founder and U.S. senator Marion Gracelyn, FBI forensic scientist Alexandra Forsythe jumped to investigate the stone-cold case. With fellow Athena alums and special agent Justin Cohen rallying to the cause, Alex uncovered an intricate web of deceit and murder.The evidence she uncovered could send shock waves around the nation: D.C.'s corridors of power and privilege were harboring a ruthless killer. And this time, all Alex's special skills couldn't protect those she loved from the killer's wrath.…

Flashback

Justine Davis

Special thanks and acknowledgement are given

to Justine Davis for her contribution to the

ATHENA FORCE miniseries.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Coming Next Month

Chapter 1

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 breeze swirled her hair, and she shoved red-gold curls back from her face. Determined now, she quickly finished up on the Glock, put it back in the case, then got up from the cushioned wicker chair that sat near the porch railing. She leaned forward onto the rail, taking in the expansive view of Forsythe Farms.

This was the place she loved most, the place she considered home, and of late the only place she found peace. But peace was obviously not within her grandfather’s grasp this afternoon, and neither, apparently, was patience within hers. Not when G.C. was this edgy.

“You have two choices,” she said without preamble. “You can either tell me what’s chewing on you or I can go saddle Twill and he can beat it out of you.”

She’d finally gotten his attention. He turned to look at her, one corner of his mouth quirking.

“So, you’d like to see your old grandfather groveling in the mud, would you?”

As she knew from personal experience, the big bay hunter was a handful, by turns all heart or all contrariness as the spirit moved him on any given day. But her grandfather had been a horseman for decades, and there were few he couldn’t handle.

“As if even Twill would have the nerve to toss you,” she said, in exaggerated outrage.

He gave her that smile that had always made her feel as if she could conquer the world. “Only because you’ve taught him to trust.”

“True. Now, if I could only get you to trust me with whatever it is that’s bothering you,” she said, looking at him steadily.

Her grandfather sighed. “I trust you,” he said. “You know that I always have.”

“But?”

“I’m not sure that what’s bothering me matters after all these years.”

She studied his face for a moment, saw the troubled look in his eyes and the furrow between silver brows that matched his still-thick mane of hair.