Bex leaned in beside my ear. “Look by the entrance.”
I slowly moved my rifle in the direction he referred to, spotted two more. To my surprise, the men were not in uniform, but in suits. Their broad shoulders and extra-large frames reminded me of old movies about the Mob.
“Bodyguards,” Bex said. “Look closer at their jackets. You see the slight bulging on each side?”
“They’re armed,” I breathed.
With one finger, Claire tuned the tiny adjustment on her rifle. The tiny click sound it made seemed as loud as a jet engine to me, but the noise was so insignificant, it was inaudible to the men below.
Bex touched my elbow with the back of his finger. “She’s going to account for crosswind and range-to-target, but this is an easy shot. Once the gun goes off, try to relax. I’ll get you down and out of here, and by the time you blink twice, we’ll be on our way home in the Lotus.” His low, even tone reminded me of an emcee for a televised golf tournament, or the narrator for an African Lion documentary...minus the accent.
Claire held her breath, peering into the scope. She bit her lip, and began to squeeze the trigger.
“Damn it,” she whispered. “Ryan just pulled up. He’s a block north. You and Nina intercept him, I’ll meet you in twenty.”
“Wait—,” I began, but before I could protest, Bex lifted me off the wooden beams and climbed out the broken slats of an old vent, dropping more than thirty feet below. He landed smoothly, and tugged on my hand. “Come on,” he said, keeping his voice to a whisper.
We ran down an alley as fast as my legs could move, slowing only when we reached the next street down.
“This way,” Bex said, leading me by the hand across the street, this time at a reasonable pace.
“Nina?” a voice called.
I turned to see Ryan walking toward us; confused, but happy to see me.
“Hey,” I forced my best smile, trying to control my breathing. “Clocked-in already?”
“Yeah,” he smiled, flicking his badge. “What are you doing this far north?”
“Uh….”
“I made her drive me to my girlfriend’s house,” Bex said.
Ryan blinked, and then scanned Bex from top to bottom. “Oh. I thought you were Jared.”
“Bex,” he said, offering his hand to Ryan. “Jared’s little brother.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” I grinned.
“Well, I’m supposed to meet my partner. I’ll call you tonight, Nina.”
“Meet your partner?” I said, surprised.
“Yeah. Work stuff.”
Bex and I traded glances, and then Bex tugged on my coat. “Well…don’t want to keep Mandy waiting.”
Ryan smiled. “No man, you probably don’t. See you guys around.”
We walked at a forced pace until Ryan was out of sight, and then Bex pulled on me again. He was barely at a jog, while I was sprinting full speed until we reached the next block over, where Claire waited in the Lotus.
“It was a trap,” I said, breathless. “They were waiting for Ryan.”
“I know,” Claire said, her eyes focused and menacing.
She raced down the street, weaving in and out of traffic until we reached Brown University. “What about Ryan?” I said.
“I’ll take care of it. Bex will wait here until Jared’s finished. I have some things to wrap up.”
I nodded, and then watched from the curb as she sped away.
“Tell me,” I said, turning to Bex.
“I only heard a little as we were leaving to cut off Ryan, but Donovan sent those men to collect him. They were going to see what he knew about you…and us. Mainly Claire.”
“So now Ryan’s a target,” I said, unhappy.
“We’re all targets,” Bex said.
Chapter Fourteen
It's Your Funeral
“I was right,” I said, letting Jared take my coat. “It looks like Christmas threw up on the conference room.”
“You were right. And how ridiculous, when you’re decoration enough,” Jared said, kissing my cheek.
Loud, obnoxious music made it necessary to talk loudly to each other. Red, green and gold tinsel draped every surface in the room, and the employees, with their dates, loitered in a perfect half-moon around the DJ, careful not to cross the boundary of the dance floor.
“I’m going to tell the DJ to turn it down a notch or ten,” I said.
Jared nodded, watching with amusement as I walked with purpose across the wooden floor.
“Excuse me,” I said. The DJ bobbed his head, concentrating on the computer screen in front of him. “Excuse me!” I yelled, tapping him on the shoulder.
“What can I do for you?” he yelled back.
“Can you turn it down? I’d like for the guests to hear each other.”
The DJ frowned. “Ms. Bankovic asked that I keep it at party level.”