Aftershocks Read Online Free

on one of her clients. Or they’d inadvertently been connected to someone running a porn site, though she worked very hard to make sure that didn’t happen. There were dozens of reasons the FBI could have sent an agent to her office.
    But Zoe had learned a long time ago about the futility of denial. She was an expert at facing reality, and it was about to hit her in the face. Hard, since that was the only way reality hit.
    “This is a cool office,” Henricksen complimented as they passed through the main area.
    “Thank you.” Instead of cubicles, she’d let her design staff separate their work areas in any way they wanted. The converted warehouse, with its polished hardwood floors and high ceilings, echoed wildly when too many people were talking. Throw rugs, curtains hanging from rods suspended from the ceiling a story above, and thick screens divided the spaces. She’d had acoustic panels hung, which helped muffle the noise, and the art on the walls had all been created by her staff.
    When she launched her web design and hosting company several years ago, it had been a typical home-based enterprise. She’d built it at a steady pace from herself and one freelance designer to a million-dollar company with fourteen employees. They created websites and e-commerce portals for businesses all over the world. The thought that whatever had brought Agent Henricksen here could jeopardize what she’d built made her want to throw her body over the whole thing and protect it with her life.
    She unlocked her office door, a tall panel of maple set between glass walls, and ushered the agent inside. He stood patiently in front of her desk while she stowed her briefcase and jacket. She almost offered him coffee, but that was another delaying tactic. When she motioned for him to sit, he waited until she’d done so before sinking tensely into the well-padded guest chair in front of her desk.
    “I’m not sure if you’re aware of the reason for my visit,” Henricksen started.
    “How would I be?” she asked.
    “A notice would have been sent to you.”
    Her gaze landed on the three-day pile of mail on the corner of her desk. It wasn’t large, as Sherry would have sorted out the junk. Sure enough, when Zoe flipped through it, she found a thin envelope with an official-looking seal in the corner. She fingered the edge but didn’t move to open it.
    “I guess you should start at the beginning,” she told the agent. Her heartbeat slowed, her breath taking longer to drag in and push out.
    “Of course,” he said graciously.
    His voice sounded deeper, stretched. She knew what was coming. Not the details, but the essence. And she really, really didn’t want to hear it.
    “Patron Rhomney and Fredricka Thomashunis have been granted parole.”
    Everything rushed back toward her, a rage of noise and color and light. Heels tapped on the floor as they passed her door. One of the designers laughed. A phone rang. The red snapdragons and orange lilies in the flower arrangement on her desk tore at her eyes. And her voice, when she managed to work it up through the despair closing her throat, sounded weak and groggy.
    “Would you close the door, please? And the blinds,” she added. No one was looking through the windows, but she couldn’t take the movement out there. Nor did she want to have to explain to anyone later what had happened. She was sure her devastation showed on her face.
    “Ms. Ardmore?” Henricksen returned to the desk and hovered uncertainly. “Are you all right?”
    “Give me a moment.” She managed a deep inhale, and the bombardment receded somewhat. “I’m sorry. I should have been expecting it.”
    “It’s understandable.” He waited while she breathed a few more times, trying to keep memory and emotion at bay. Finally, he must have deemed her composed enough, because he went on.
    “Mr. Rhomney and Ms. Thomashunis underwent their sixth parole hearings last month. The parole board found no reason to deny either