Her grandfather closed his eyes. ‘Okay,’ he said and sounded like he meant it.
‘Papa?’ She waited until he opened his eyes. ‘I’m fine. I really am. And I have a shrink too.’
His eyes widened. ‘You do?’
She smiled at him. ‘Yes. Someone I can talk to when things get shitty.’
‘Your friend, Faith?’
‘No, because she’s my friend. My shrink is an official shrink. A psychiatrist. I mean, I like her, but we don’t socialize. I’ve been seeing her for a few years now and she monitors my meds. She’s good. Just wanted you to know that.’
He smiled. ‘That settles my mind more than anything else you’ve said.’
She hugged his arm again. ‘Give Adam a chance. He wears a mask too. But under it is a . . . really nice heart.’
He kissed her temple. ‘For you. I’d do almost anything for you, you know.’
‘Then I’m going for broke. I have videos of Mom and Dad. I haven’t been able to watch them. Not in all this time. Will you watch them with me? Next week? On the day?’
On the anniversary of the day their lives changed.
His chest expanded, held, then fell. ‘Yes. But, um, maybe not with Kimble around. I don’t think I can without a stiff drink and I don’t want to drink in front of him.’
‘Okay,’ she whispered, understanding.
Behind them, a voice cleared. They whipped around to find the man in question standing there awkwardly.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Adam said gruffly. ‘I need to leave. We know where Linnie is. I wanted to make sure you were okay before I went to get her.’
Meredith released her grandfather, standing uncertainly. He’d clearly overheard something, although she wasn’t sure how much. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
‘Just a minute,’ he said. ‘We don’t want her to leave where she is.’
Together, they went to stand by Isenberg’s office window. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘I don’t know how much you heard, but Papa means well.’
‘I don’t care that you were talking about me. Are you all right?’
She stared up at him. ‘Yes. Why?’
‘Your parents died, right?’
She swallowed. ‘Yes. It’ll be seven years next week.’
‘Is that why everyone comes to . . . support you at the holidays?’
‘Partly yes. But that’s not a conversation I want to have here, if that’s okay. Later?’
‘Yes.’ He leaned a little closer. ‘Wish it was later already. I really need to hold you.’
‘I wouldn’t mind it either. But I’m okay. Are you?’
‘I am. Isenberg says she’s going to observe you when you interview Penny Voss. She has some photos that I’d like Penny to see, just to see if any of them look familiar.’
‘Of course.’
‘Okay. I have to go. I’ll be back soon.’ He started walking backward, toward the elevator. ‘Kate and Trip are on their way in from Mariposa House. They’ll figure out how to get you all back to the safe house.’
‘Thank you. Adam,’ she called when he turned to go. ‘Be careful.’
His smile was blinding. ‘I will. Because, you know. Later.’
He disappeared into the elevator and not even her grandfather’s arched brows could wipe away her own smile.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Sunday 20 December, 5.45 P.M.
Linnea had stayed out far longer than she’d planned. Getting a weapon was harder than she’d thought it would be. Andy had given her the switchblade that she’d left in his arm. Wish I’d stabbed him in the heart.
Andy had made everything look so easy. It had taken her hours to find someone to sell her a gun on the street and had suffered near heart failure when the dealer she’d chosen had pointed the gun at her.
But he’d just been ‘kidding.’ Or so he said. More likely that he didn’t want to have to explain why the dead girl on his street corner had keeled over from a heart attack.
Which didn’t sound like a bad way to go. It would be over with. No muss, no fuss. Because she was in for a shitload of that if she did manage to survive the next few days.
Not that her body would withstand too much suffering. She was too weak and she knew it. And now, she was exhausted and cold. She hoped the nuns would still let her in. She had no idea what time it was, but it had to be close to six. It was dark already and—
She turned the corner and stopped abruptly, her mouth falling open in shock. What the actual fuck? The church was surrounded with cops. Four squad cars lined up on the street. Busted. But how? She’d been so careful not to show her face. Then she saw a familiar face and had her answer.
Dr Dani stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest. A woman and a man, both in black wool coats, stood on the stoop, having a conversation with Sister Jeanette, whose posture mirrored Dr Dani’s. The nun was shaking her head no, very emphatically.
Dr Dani had given her up, but Sister Jeanette was preventing the cops from entering. Thank you, Sister. But fuck you, Dr Dani. How stupid was I to trust you?
Linnea took a step back. She’d have to find somewhere else to sleep. Hopefully somewhere warm because it was going to drop into single digits tonight. She’d prefer not to freeze to death before she killed him.
She spun around and slammed into a brick wall. Except it wasn’t brick. It was solid muscle. Her heart stopped. Just . . . stopped. She looked up. And up.
She couldn’t breathe. Just . . . couldn’t breathe. Her hand, still shoved in her pocket, found the gun all on its own.
Butch smiled down at her, terrifyingly. ‘Well, hello there,’ he drawled. ‘We’ve been looking for you all over the place. The boss is going to be so happy to have you safe and sound.’ His grin broadened, showing off his crooked teeth . . . and suddenly it was Friday night again and he was hurting her and she couldn’t make him stop.
Except now she could. She didn’t break eye contact as she drew the gun from her pocket and pulled the trigger. Again. And again. And once more because he was still fucking standing.
He reached for her but she shoved him hard and he went down, landing on his knees. She edged back, her ears ringing because the gun was loud.
People were screaming. She could hear them . . . barely. She took another step back, staring at Butch who looked . . . pissed. And he wasn’t staying down. He was getting back up.
The gun she held in both hands was shaking. Because her hands were shaking. She was shaking, head to toe. As she watched in horror, he gritted his teeth and was lurching to his feet when a sharp crack penetrated the fog in her brain. Then Butch’s head exploded.
Just like Andy’s.
More screams. People were running.
You should too. The cops will come. They’ll take you away. Run.
Shoving the gun in her pocket, Linnea turned and fled.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Sunday 20 December, 5.48 P.M.
The phone in his pocket buzzed with Mike’s text alert. He’d better have good news. Surreptitiously, he checked the incoming text. Finished off Butch, just like u told me to do. Girl got away.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ he muttered. He’d told Butch where to look for Linnea and then he’d told Mike where to look for Butch. Butch should have killed Linnea and Mike should have shot Butch from the rooftop where he’d told his uncle to lie in wait.
At least Butch was no longer a liability. But Linnea was still out there, dammit.
A second set of texts came through from Mike. She was armed. She shot him before I could. Had a bead on her, but Butch decided to be a hero and stand up to grab her one more time. Hit him first instead of her and she took off.
Find her, he typed back, his thumbs like hammers on his screen.
Mike’s reply was fast and terse. On it.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Sunday 20 December, 5.48 P.M.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. One minute Adam and Scarlett had been arguing with Sister Jeanette. The next, they were running toward gunfire at the end of the block.
What they found was not pretty. And too damn familiar.