“You’re early.”
“Bonus time. For being a faithful client.”
“I asked for Jewel.”
“Jewel’s not feeling well.” She shifted her weight, swiveling her hips. “If you don’t like what you see, I can always…”
“What’s your name?”
She went with a shortened version of her real name. “Charli.”
“Is that your real name?”
She bit her lip shyly. “We’re not supposed to give our real names.”
“Ah.”
“And your name?”
“Donald.”
“Real name?”
He hesitated, let his eyes crawl down her again. Though she’d expected him to look at her like this, it still made her feel used by him.
The doctor stepped aside. “Come on in.”
She joined him in the living room, and he shut the door behind her.
Okay, now that she was inside she needed to offer him the truth — that she wasn’t really from the agency but was here to find out what he might know about her friend’s murder.
Tell him, Charlene. Just explain it; tell him what you really want.
But she felt nervous, uneasy, unsure how to shift to the topic of Emilio.
Collect your thoughts, Charlene. You need to—
“May I use your bathroom? Freshen up for a moment?”
“Of course.” He pointed down the hall to a door near the base of the stairs leading to the second floor. “Would you like a drink?”
“What are you having?”
“Bourbon.”
“Bourbon, then.”
Derek stood beside Calista, whose face was twisted in pain.
It might take awhile for her to die; he didn’t know, he’d never killed anyone this way before.
He nudged her with his toe as he phoned Garcia. “The engineer is a no-go.”
“What? You led me to believe that—”
“I know. And you said you’d take care of Banks and Antioch. What did you have in mind, exactly?”
Garcia told him.
“Do it,” Derek said. “We can still make this happen tonight.”
Charlene stared at her reflection in the mirror.
You should have just told him at the door who you are. What are you doing? The longer you wait, the harder this is going to be!
She took a deep breath, tried to center herself, then left the bathroom, rehearsing in her mind what she was going to say: “There’s a friend of mine that you knew. Emilio Benigno. He’s…”
No, you need to start out telling him who you are. The worst he can do is kick you out of the house.
“Listen, I’m not really who I said I was. I’m not really from the agency…”
That’s what you need to say.
Charlene was at the base of the stairs when she heard the dull thud of something heavy landing on the floor in the kitchen and the simultaneous shattering of glass. As she was about to call out to see if Dr. Schatzing was okay, she heard a voice that was not his. “Find her. Go.”
Oh.
Not good.
It’s the people who had Emilio killed! The ones behind everything! It has to be!
You can’t let them catch you. You can’t—
If there were people in the kitchen, she would never be able to sneak past them to the front door. The only other choice was running up the stairs beside her.
She peeled off her high heels and, holding them, bolted up the staircase, trying to be as silent as possible.
If Jevin were here he would probably fight whoever was down there. But that was Jevin. Most of the time she could take care of herself, but she couldn’t imagine fighting off more than one person.
However, she did have another gift, a well-practiced skill that she’d honed over the years — fitting in trunks, small cages, and hidden compartments. She could hide in spaces people would swear no woman could ever fit inside.
“I got the upstairs,” another voice said.
Go, hurry!
As soundlessly as possible she started down the hall, then stopped in midstride.
Above her was the trapdoor to the attic. A string that would trigger the release mechanism was tucked up in the crack beside it.
Gun in hand, the first man edged up the stairs. As he moved in to cover the hallway, he saw a string hanging down from the door to the attic.
It was swinging.
Charlene scrunched up as small as she could in the dark. This wasn’t ideal, not ideal at all, but it would have to work. She just needed to wait long enough until they were distracted and she could slip away.
A ladder unfolded when he pulled the string.
Leveling his gun in front of him, he ascended the steps.
Before emerging through the hole at the top, he took a small breath to steady himself, then eased up and peered around the attic.
In the light that snuck up around him from the hallway and that crept in through the small window on the wall in front of him, he could make out shapes in the darkness.
The place was filled with boxes and crates.
He turned in a slow circle, trying to take everything in.
No movement.
He climbed all the way up and began checking every hiding place he could find.
Fionna explained what was on the drive as Lonnie navigated through the files using Agent Ratchford’s computer.
The agent paid close attention, then finally said, “I’m primarily interested in Akinsanya. We have reason to believe that he might be in the greater Las Vegas area. Are you sure there isn’t anything else you can tell me that might help us track him down?”
Fionna wasn’t sure she should reveal any information about Jevin and Xavier being at Area 51, but she did connect the dots for Ratchford between RixoTray and Dr. Turnisen by showing him the photo of Emilio and Tim that Jevin had sent to her.
That seemed to spark his curiosity. “And do we know where this Dr. Turnisen is?”
Fionna shook her head. “I’m not sure. We haven’t tried to contact him.”
Agent Ratchford produced his phone. “Give me a minute. I’ll find him. At least my people are good at one thing.”
Nothing in the attic.
He’d searched the entire place and was on his way to the steps that led back to the hallway when he paused.
One of the trunks was large enough.
Yeah, it was possible.
He turned toward it, unlatched the clasp, and flipped open the lid.
Empty.
When Charlene had grabbed the string for the attic door and swung it, then hurried to the bedroom at the end of the hall, she’d been hoping that both men would go up there looking for her.
But that’s not how things had played out.
There was just one set of footsteps above her in the attic.
One set.
He found the swinging string. Once he sees you’re not in the attic, they’re going to know you’re up here somewhere. They will find you.
She peered out the window.
It was a two-story drop.
There was a pool filled with water and covered with a plastic tarp. However, it wasn’t directly below the window, and even if she jumped out as far she could, she didn’t think she’d make it to the water’s edge.
The only other choice was the hallway, but if she went out there they’d catch her immediately.
Hide. You have to hide.
She scanned the room.
In the closet? Under the bed? Behind the dresser?