Bennett laughed. “I love it. Why do you think, Dan?”
“I have no idea.”
“Sure you do—”
“No, I fucking don’t. But if you don’t stop pointing a gun at my wife, I’m going to . . .”
“What? You’re going to what? Kill me?”
“Stop it,” Laney said. “You can’t shoot us. If you do, you don’t get the necklace.”
“I don’t have to shoot both of you, sweetheart. For your next role, how about life as a widow?” The pistol swung half a degree to center on Daniel’s chest.
She stiffened. “No.”
Daniel wanted to act, to do something, but he didn’t know what. It had felt right to threaten Bennett, but jumping him would be suicide. The man may have been all smiles and ease, but the pistol was steady, and his finger was inside the trigger guard.
“I want what I’m owed, sister. Then we can all get on with our lives. I promise.”
“I remember what your word is worth.”
“Oh, snap,” Bennett said. “Ouch. I’m cut to the quick.” His smile could have curdled milk. “Let’s go. Back down the hallway.”
“I don’t think so.” Laney’s right hand blurred to her shirt and came out with a gun of her own.
What the fuck?
Bennett snickered. “You can’t shoot me, Laney. Any more than you could go to the police.”
“I’m not going to shoot you,” she said. “I’m going to put you in the spotlight.” Then his wife pointed the pistol skyward and pulled the trigger three times fast.
The crack of gunfire was unbelievably loud, setting his ears ringing. For a moment, nothing happened, just silence and the slipping smile on Bennett’s face.
Then the screaming began. Chaos hit as if God had flipped a switch, everyone lunging into motion at the same time. People threw themselves to their feet, upended tables, sent chairs clattering. Everyone went in different directions, tangling with one another as they searched for an exit or looked for the source of the gunfire. Dropped glasses shattered on the concrete, and somewhere someone shrieked, a high-pitched sound like steel on his teeth.
Laney’s hand grabbed his and yanked. “Run!” He caught a split-second look at Bennett’s face, fury and calculation mingling, the gun hand coming up, and then the pull of Laney’s momentum snapped him into motion. He started after her into the maelstrom, people shoving and shouting. Laney’s slim frame was no match for the chaos. He shook his hand free of hers and took the lead, lowering his shoulder and tightening his arm, bull-rushing a hole for them, adrenaline and panic powering their flight.
But even as he ran, his mind was racing faster. What the hell is going on?
5
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Bennett spun on his heel, took in the scene, mob mentality at its worst. Most people were trying to escape, but some would be coming this way, wannabe heroes and security guards, maybe even cops. Laney and Daniel took off, and instinct brought his pistol up, tracking their retreating backs. Ten feet, child’s play. One shot, two shot, red shot, blue shot.
Only morons play a losing hand. Killing them wouldn’t get him paid. But it might get him caught. He tucked the gun away. Laney and Daniel disappeared into the crowd, bobbing heads in a sea of frightened humanity.
You’ve gotten smarter, little girl. You’re not the wide-eyed kid I remember.
He turned and sprinted down the maintenance hallway.
5
They’d fought their way to the edge of the market, one of the gates in sight, the river of people now moving mostly in one direction. A woman fell, and Daniel bent to haul her to her feet before she was trampled. A man behind him shoved past, his knee connecting with Daniel’s shoulder as he rose, almost sending him tumbling. Daniel shoved him, then fought forward.
“This way!” Laney slid past, quicksilvering through the crowd. He followed, and then they were through the gate and into the western parking lot, a lane of cars backing onto Fairfax.
Laney turned to make sure he’d made it. The neck of her shirt was torn, and she’d lost the ball cap. She still held the gun in one hand, like she’d forgotten it was there.
“Put that away,” he said, and she looked startled, then hid it under her shirt.
“Let’s go.” She turned toward the north lot.
He grabbed her arm. “No. This way.”
“What? Why?”
“Just trust me.”
For a moment he thought she would argue, but she nodded again. They ran south, away from their cars, the space opening as people spread out. Hit Third at a sprint, the street a mess, cars spun the wrong direction, a collision in the center lane, running people scrambling over hoods and between bumpers, horns screaming. They darted across, came to a black wrought iron fence on the other side. “Come on,” he said, and cupped his hands for her. She stepped into them, grabbed the top, then jumped over. He followed, the metal digging into his stomach as he balanced and dropped.
They were in a huge apartment complex. It seemed strangely familiar, tall towers surrounded by town houses, the whole thing landscaped and organized. Curious children stared from the playground at the corner.
Laney was running again. The streets angled in spokes from the towers, every intersection looking the same, but she seemed to know her way, and he followed, panting now, his shoulder throbbing where he’d been kicked. After they had gone maybe half a mile, Laney slowed to a jog, then a walk. She didn’t even seem to be breathing hard. “I left my car back there,” she said.
“I know,” gasp, “me too.”
“So why did we come this way?”
He stopped, laced his fingers over his head. “Bennett wasn’t in the spotlight anymore.”
Laney narrowed her eyes. “He went for our cars.”
“That’s what a smart bad guy would do.”
She stepped forward, put her hands on his cheek. “That’s my brilliant writer husband.” Then she kissed him, and everything else—the horns in the distance, the police sirens drawing closer, the crack of gunfire, the sun in the sky, and the ground below—went away.
A long moment later, when he could breathe again, he said, “I’m so glad you’re not dead.”
“Me too. You, I mean. I thought Bennett— When I couldn’t find you, I thought maybe he had.”
Daniel shook his head. “No. I wasn’t in L.A.”
“Huh? Where were you?”
“That’s . . . a long story.” He was about to explain when a thought struck him. “Oh, shit.” He dug for his disposable cell phone. “Sophie.”
Laney’s eyes widened. “You think—”