the floor, shattered. Next to it was a stapler lying quietly on its side.
“Deven?”
Silence.
Yardley headed into the back.
To her shock, the back door was wide open. Something reddish-brown was on the floor, shaped in drops, looking like blood. Yardley ran a finger over it. It was dry but definitely blood.
Behind the store was an alley.
Someone could have pulled a car back there, dumped Deven into a trunk and taken off without anyone seeing them.
Cave.
It had to be Cave.
The thought was simultaneously comforting and frightening; comforting in that at least she knew who she was dealing with, frightening in that she knew what Cave was capable of.
At exactly 11:30 the door opened and Yardley’s boss walked in dressed exactly like what she was, an expensive lawyer.
“Cave took Deven,” Yardley said. “What the hell’s going on?”
The lawyer exhaled.
“The Miami deal was a set up,” the woman said.
“What do you mean?”
“It was orchestrated to eliminate Cave.”
“Eliminate Cave?”
“There are reasons,” the woman said.
Yardley took a step back.
“You had no right to involve me without my knowledge,” she said.
The woman said nothing.
Her face didn’t move.
“You never told Cave who I am, correct?”
Yardley nodded.
“No, I haven’t.”
“He’s smart enough to know that it was orchestrated by me, not you,” the woman said. “If he thought you were responsible, you’d already be dead. He took Deven to force you to tell him who I am. You’re not going to do that. We need to get that clear, right here, right now.”
Yardley shook her head.
“I’d never do that.”
“Yes you would,” the woman said. “If you do though, I’ll have a plan in motion to take Deven out, first her, then you. So be assured you won’t be advancing your cause by giving me up.”
“I already said I wouldn’t.”
The woman pulled a pack of smokes out of her purse, tapped two out and handed one to Yardley.
She lit them both up from a fancy gold lighter.
“We need to get Deven back and kill Cave,” she said. “That’s our only option.” She blew smoke. “Either you’re in or you’re out.”
Yardley paused.
Then she said, “I’m in.”
The woman nodded.
“Hold on.” She pulled her phone out, dialed a number and said, “It’s me. I have an assignment for you. If I die at any time within the next month, and I don’t care what the cause is—I don’t care if I get hit by a bus or get a bullet in the head, either way—you’re to kill two women, one’s named Deven Devenshire and the other’s named Yardley White. Money will be in your account within the hour.”
She closed the phone and looked at Yardley.
“Do we have an understanding?”
Yardley nodded.
“When this is over, though, I’m done with you.”
The woman blew smoke.
“One step at a time,” she said. “I’m being a businesswoman and you know it. Right now my goal, just like yours, is to get Deven back. That call I made was just an insurance policy, nothing personal against you.”
22
Day Two
July 19
Tuesday Morning
Pantage was besieged with work when she got to the law firm Tuesday morning. The echo of Jackie Lake’s murder still resonated up and down the halls but the day-to-day operations of the firm were back to normal. Luckily no one talked to her about anything in the too distant past. She was able to hold her own memory-wise.
Sydney showed up to keep an eye on her.
Pantage got her set up in a conference room, poured two cups of coffee and settled into a leather chair. “So what’s the deal with Drift?”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, should I worry about getting in too deep with him?”
Sydney patted her hand.
“Girlfriend, you’re already in too deep with him.”
Pantage shrugged.
“You’re probably right,” she said.
“No probably about it,” Sydney said. “I’m big-time jealous, just for the record.”
“Did you ever—you know—do it with
“Deven?”
Silence.
Yardley headed into the back.
To her shock, the back door was wide open. Something reddish-brown was on the floor, shaped in drops, looking like blood. Yardley ran a finger over it. It was dry but definitely blood.
Behind the store was an alley.
Someone could have pulled a car back there, dumped Deven into a trunk and taken off without anyone seeing them.
Cave.
It had to be Cave.
The thought was simultaneously comforting and frightening; comforting in that at least she knew who she was dealing with, frightening in that she knew what Cave was capable of.
At exactly 11:30 the door opened and Yardley’s boss walked in dressed exactly like what she was, an expensive lawyer.
“Cave took Deven,” Yardley said. “What the hell’s going on?”
The lawyer exhaled.
“The Miami deal was a set up,” the woman said.
“What do you mean?”
“It was orchestrated to eliminate Cave.”
“Eliminate Cave?”
“There are reasons,” the woman said.
Yardley took a step back.
“You had no right to involve me without my knowledge,” she said.
The woman said nothing.
Her face didn’t move.
“You never told Cave who I am, correct?”
Yardley nodded.
“No, I haven’t.”
“He’s smart enough to know that it was orchestrated by me, not you,” the woman said. “If he thought you were responsible, you’d already be dead. He took Deven to force you to tell him who I am. You’re not going to do that. We need to get that clear, right here, right now.”
Yardley shook her head.
“I’d never do that.”
“Yes you would,” the woman said. “If you do though, I’ll have a plan in motion to take Deven out, first her, then you. So be assured you won’t be advancing your cause by giving me up.”
“I already said I wouldn’t.”
The woman pulled a pack of smokes out of her purse, tapped two out and handed one to Yardley.
She lit them both up from a fancy gold lighter.
“We need to get Deven back and kill Cave,” she said. “That’s our only option.” She blew smoke. “Either you’re in or you’re out.”
Yardley paused.
Then she said, “I’m in.”
The woman nodded.
“Hold on.” She pulled her phone out, dialed a number and said, “It’s me. I have an assignment for you. If I die at any time within the next month, and I don’t care what the cause is—I don’t care if I get hit by a bus or get a bullet in the head, either way—you’re to kill two women, one’s named Deven Devenshire and the other’s named Yardley White. Money will be in your account within the hour.”
She closed the phone and looked at Yardley.
“Do we have an understanding?”
Yardley nodded.
“When this is over, though, I’m done with you.”
The woman blew smoke.
“One step at a time,” she said. “I’m being a businesswoman and you know it. Right now my goal, just like yours, is to get Deven back. That call I made was just an insurance policy, nothing personal against you.”
22
Day Two
July 19
Tuesday Morning
Pantage was besieged with work when she got to the law firm Tuesday morning. The echo of Jackie Lake’s murder still resonated up and down the halls but the day-to-day operations of the firm were back to normal. Luckily no one talked to her about anything in the too distant past. She was able to hold her own memory-wise.
Sydney showed up to keep an eye on her.
Pantage got her set up in a conference room, poured two cups of coffee and settled into a leather chair. “So what’s the deal with Drift?”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, should I worry about getting in too deep with him?”
Sydney patted her hand.
“Girlfriend, you’re already in too deep with him.”
Pantage shrugged.
“You’re probably right,” she said.
“No probably about it,” Sydney said. “I’m big-time jealous, just for the record.”
“Did you ever—you know—do it with
Similar Books
