Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“We’re being followed.” Marley peered through the limo’s rear window.
“Yes.”
She swiveled around to face him. “And you’re not worried?”
“Considering they are my men? Nope. Not at all worried.”
Marley slid closer to him. Closer in the new clothes that had magically appeared for her in his hotel suite. A black sweater that she was pretty sure had to be made of cashmere, black pants that felt like some kind of soft heaven against her skin, and the most awesome, kick-ass black boots she’d seen in her entire life.
And let’s not think about the underwear. Or, rather, the scraps that counted as underwear. Who had picked out those particular items?
She cleared her throat. “You didn’t mention that you had men following us.”
“I didn’t? Oh, well, I have men following us. The last time I ditched my protection crew, I wound up drugged and tied to a chair in a shitty basement, so I figured I’d let the guys do the job I was paying them for.”
“Probably a good idea,” she mumbled.
His head inclined toward her. What could have been a glint of amusement came and went in his hazel eyes. “But don’t worry, they know how to be unobtrusive. They won’t interfere in our investigation. Unless I signal for them to approach.”
It was far too late not to worry. Worry consumed her. As did memories of all those torture instruments in the basement’s cabinet. “Just who is in this crew of yours?”
“The two tailing us are former special ops. One was a SEAL. The other was a Ranger. They know how to blend. They also know how to kick ass.”
Her eyes narrowed as suspicion swirled through her. “They aren’t like…the muscle, are they?”
“Excuse me?”
“The bartender didn’t cooperate with the cops. Are you planning to use your ‘protection crew’ in order to force information out of the man? Are they the muscle that you’re gonna use to get the job done?”
He put a hand over his heart. “I am shocked. You think I would do something like that?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes.” Definitely.
The limo halted.
“I probably would.” An easy agreement as his hand fell. “But we’ll try your charm first, shall we? And let’s see where that gets us.”
Her charm? “I don’t have a lot of that.” She stretched for the door on the right.
He caught her hand. Surprised her by bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I disagree. I’d certainly say that you’ve charmed me.”
Her heart immediately started racing—the same way it had raced when she realized they were being tailed by a dark SUV that kept one car between them and the limo as it relentlessly followed their path.
“When we go in Abyss, you don’t leave my side.” His voice was calm, mild, but his stare was piercing. “We get the bartender. We question him together.” Another kiss on her knuckles.
Wait, had she just felt the brush of his tongue against her?
He let her go. “And don’t question my methods. Just go with the flow, would you?” Declan climbed from the limo because Andy had the door open.
She scrambled out after him. Marley grabbed Declan’s arm. “I am not a go-with-the-flow kind of person. In fact, I’ve never even met the flow. I go my own way.”
A sigh. “So I am learning.” He stared down at her. “Can I count on you not to freak out tonight?”
What did that even mean? And it sure sounded offensive. “I didn’t freak out last night, did I? Stop questioning my professionalism.” She sniffed. “It’s downright rude.”
His lips hitched up. “Oh, I would never want to be rude. My apologies.” He moved the hand that she’d had clutching his arm. Moved it but didn’t let go. Instead, he curled the fingers of his left hand around hers. “Let’s get the party started, shall we?”
Marley threw a glance over her shoulder. She wanted to put eyes on his protection team, but there was no sign of the SUV she’d spotted earlier. “I don’t think it’s a party. Or at least, if it is, we have two vastly different definitions for that particular word.”
“And just how do you like to party?”
Her gaze skittered back to his. “I’m not really big on the party scene.” She could hear the pounding music coming from Abyss. A line of people snaked around the block, waiting to get inside. The women wore skin-tight dresses and stilettos. The men wore a variety of clothing options—some high end, some dressed in ragged jeans. All stood with plenty of pretend swagger. “Got enough of that during my short stint as a bartender.” And she’d had more than enough of seeing drunken brawls and watching messy hook-ups.
“If you’re not into the scene, then what were you doing here last night?” he asked silkily.
She swallowed. “Chasing down a cheating husband. I got the info I needed and emailed the pictures to my client.” Case officially closed . “Then I was leaving when I saw you.”
“Were you the bait for the husband?”
The what? And why was he all extra growly? “No, I was the one snapping pics of him and his girlfriend while his pregnant wife was at home.” She tapped a foot impatiently. “Are we going in Abyss or do you want to grill me more?”
“In.”
“Excellent plan.”
And…toward the entrance they went. He headed straight for the bouncer. Big, covered in tats, and featuring a hoop in his nose. Declan stopped right in front of the man.
“Line’s to the left, buddy,” the bouncer snapped.
“You weren’t here last night,” Declan noted.
“Nah. I wasn’t. Not supposed to be here tonight, either. Got called in when the prick who should be on duty didn’t show.” He pointed to the left. “Now like I said, the line’s?—”
Declan put some cash in the bouncer’s outstretched hand. “I’m going in with my lady.”
The man looked at the money. Whistled. “Yes, indeed, you are going in with your lady. Tonight and any night you want, my new best friend.”
She strained to see just how much money Declan had handed the man, but the money had been shoved inside the bouncer’s pocket in a flash.
Declan lingered with his new best friend. “Tell me where the bouncer is who was on duty last night. Six-foot-two, stocky. Black hair.”
The description he gave of the bouncer could have easily been the same description for the guys who’d taken him. As she’d told Parker, the men had both been big. Thick with muscle and fat, and their hair had been dark. Or at least, it had appeared dark from a distance and in the poor lighting from the streetlamp.
“You mean Hugo. Guy didn’t show up today. Asshole. I was supposed to be with my girlfriend tonight, but that prick didn’t come to work. Now I’m here, and who the hell knows where he is?”
Declan slanted a glance back her way.
Marley nodded. Yeah, Hugo’s absence was suspicious as hell. She got it. But she didn’t speak those words out loud. Declan led her in the club and the music was even more pounding and ear-shattering inside. The bodies were crammed too tightly. And eyes were suddenly on her. She looked up and found men ogling her. Their gazes drifted over her as if seeing her naked.
Great. Fabulous. And this was why she didn’t like to party. “I’m not on the menu,” she muttered. Why were they even looking her way? Her clothes were way tame compared to the other outfits. Maybe they just stared that way at every woman who entered the place. Jerks.
Declan looked over and frowned at her.
“Why were you here?” she suddenly demanded. “This does not feel like your scene.”
“And what is my scene?” Vague curiosity.
She didn’t know. Because she didn’t know him that well. But it was hard to imagine that he’d come to this crowded meat market unless… Oh, crap. Did he come here to hook up with someone? And was that jealousy gnawing in her stomach? Sure felt like it. “I don’t know.” A mumble.
He didn’t move. And he seemingly ignored everyone else as he focused on her. “I was here because I was bored. Sometimes, you just want to vanish in a crowd.” He turned and made his way through the throng of bodies. People immediately moved the heck out of his way. Then they were at the bar. Declan shouldered up to it and made room for her at his side. Lights shimmered overhead.
“Be right with you,” a bartender promised.
Her gaze locked on him. On the back of his head. Blond hair. Slim but athletic build.
He spun around. “All right, what can I get— you.” His eyes widened as he got a look at Declan.
“Hello, Keith.” Declan’s voice easily cut through the noise. “You remember me. What a coincidence. I also remember you. ”
And maybe Keith hadn’t said anything suspicious to the cops. Maybe he’d cooperated completely. But he took one look at Declan’s face—and the fierce intent he saw there—and terror filled Keith’s eyes. He spun and dashed toward the far end of the bar. And toward the exit.
“Sonofabitch.” Declan jumped over the bar and gave chase.
For one moment, Marley admired the jump. He’d cleared that bar in a single lunge. Impressive. But her job wasn’t to sit around and be impressed. So she gave chase, too. She didn’t jump over the bar. Instead, she twisted and snaked through the crowd and made her way for the door marked STAFF ONLY. The same door that Keith was bounding toward.
He rushed through the door, followed by Declan, and Marley was right on their heels. In her experience, innocent people didn’t tend to run this way. And the terror that had been in Keith’s eyes? Oh, there had to be a reason for his fear.
Up ahead, Keith shoved open another door. She saw the darkness of the night waiting. Keith had raced into the back alley. If he got away…
Declan rushed out the exterior door, too. She slammed her hand into the wood and followed and?—
“Ah!” Keith hit the ground.
Not because Declan had tackled the bartender. But because James had tripped the guy as he ran. James stepped from the shadows, straightening his suit coat as he did so. Looking dapper and vaguely annoyed as he stared down at the sprawled form on the litter-covered ground. An old light at the rear of the bar flickered on and off. Revealing, then concealing the scene.
“I believe my employer wanted to have a word with you,” James declared. “That’s hard to do when you’re running away.”
Keith tried to crawl away.
He didn’t get far.
Shadows surged from the surrounding darkness even as Declan grabbed the back of Keith’s shirt and hauled him to his feet. When the shadows moved toward Declan, Marley rushed forward to put her body between him and whatever threat this was going to be.
“Stand down, PI.” A deep, rumbly voice from the dark. “We’re part of his security.”
Her eyes narrowed. A big shadow had spoken. She had the feeling that the guy was deliberately keeping himself hidden. Another big shadow waited to the left. The shadow to the left sidled forward—staying out of the flickering light—and shut the bar’s back door. The better for them to not be disturbed.
“Oh, God.” A whimper from Keith. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
Declan shoved the bartender against the side of the building. “That really depends on you, Keith.”
Wait, what? She cast one more worried glance toward the shadows. Declan didn’t seem concerned about them, so she figured one shadow must be the SEAL and the other had to be the Ranger who’d tailed them in the SUV. James just stood there, looking completely out of place. As for Declan…
She crept closer and tapped his shoulder. “We’re not here to kill anyone, right?”
Declan grunted.
“His PI is confused,” the rumbly voice said. “Maybe she should wait in the limo with James.”
“I do hate violence,” James declared as he picked a piece of lint or string or something from his suit. “My monitoring job is done. I kept eyes on the bartender—even when he was taken in by the angry detective for questioning. Now, he’s all yours.”
Marley watched as James turned and headed around the building. He didn’t look back.
“Hey, PI,” the rumbly shadow said.
“The name is Marley,” she snapped back. “And we are not here to kill anyone.” There. Much better. A declaration, not a question. She ignored the shadows and focused on?—
“ Please, lady, help me!” Keith cried. “I haven’t done anything! Oh, God, oh, God! You’re going to cut off my fingers or something, aren’t you? Going to slice me open? Going to put me in damn cement shoes and sink me in the river?”
“Why would you think all of this?” Marley demanded. Declan had one hand on the bartender’s chest. The other was loose at his side.
“Because he’s the mob!” A high cry.
“You really shouldn’t have fucked with him,” a shadow noted. “Bad mistake.”
“I didn’t!” Keith shook his head. “I didn’t do anything, I swear!”
Declan did not free the man. “You put something in my drink.”
“No, no! I didn’t! I gave you exactly what you wanted. I opened the bottle of scotch. A brand-new bottle! And I poured you a glass. You saw me open it. You were right there! Hell, you even insisted on the new bottle. You picked it out.”
Marley tensed. Her gaze cut to Declan’s profile. The light flickered. On. Off. On. She stood to the side, so she only saw the right side of his face. The side with the scar that slashed across his skin.
The light flashed on. Went off. Darkness. So much darkness. Then…on.
The cut of the scar made Declan look both dangerous and almost…evil.
He’s not. He’s not evil.
Her hand pressed harder to his shoulder. “Declan, let the man go.”
Declan’s head swung toward her. He looked at her like she was crazy. She wasn’t. She was being the rational one.
“He’s surrounded,” she told Declan. “Not like he can escape, not with your two security shadows waiting to pounce. And the man is clearly terrified.” What had Declan called him? Keith? Yes, Keith. Parker had also said the bartender’s name when she’d been eavesdropping back at the hotel suite. Keith.
Declan didn’t let the bartender go. “He ran. Innocent people don’t run.”
He had a point, but she stood firm and pointed out, “They do if they are terrified. He thinks you’re in the mob and that you’re here to slice him into little pieces.” Maybe that horrifying fear had made the bartender run.
Another whimper escaped from Keith.
“If he’s not so afraid, he’ll talk more.” She believed this. Or hoped it. Whatever. “I have questions I want to ask him.”
Declan stared at her.
“You hired me to find the truth, remember? I’m here to help.” And not to just, oh, say, watch a man get beaten up in front of her.
Declan glanced back at his prey. “You run again, and you’ll pay.”
Keith shuddered.
Declan let him go.
“Thank you, lady,” Keith whispered to her. “This is all a big mistake. Just like I told that cop. I didn’t put anything in this dude’s drink. I swear it. I opened the new bottle?—”
“Where did you get the bottle?” Marley interrupted to ask.
“I—” Keith stopped. Frowned. “Hugo stocked the new bottles. He works at Abyss. Bouncer. Handyman. Stocker. Whatever we need. He’d just put the bottles in right before…” A wave of his trembling hand toward Declan. “Before he arrived.”
Hugo. That would be the bouncer who hadn’t shown up for work that night. Her gaze darted to Declan. “The scotch you ordered—do you always order that same drink?”
“It’s damn expensive,” Keith said before Declan could reply. He rattled off the name. One she instantly recognized just because of her bartending days. Those brief days. She’d never been a big drinker herself, and certainly not for booze that cost more than a hundred dollars a shot. “Not many people do order it,” Keith continued quickly. “Most go for beers or the women like the pretty, frou-frou drinks?—”
“I tend to order the same drink.” Declan’s voice was flat.
She sucked in a breath. “Someone knew you were going to be at this club. It wasn’t random.” Declan had been holding back on her. “It wasn’t because you were bored. Why were you here?”
He stepped away from Keith. “I thought I might buy the place. It was on my list of potential acquisitions. Figured I’d take a look around. And I was bored. I didn’t lie to you.”
What was that note that had entered his voice?
“Was doing two things at once,” he rasped. “Looking at the place and getting lost in a crowd.”
Okay, fine, sure. Two things at once. What mattered to her was that the visit hadn’t been random. You were thinking about buying the place. “Who knew that you might buy Abyss? Who in your life knew that you’d swing by this location?”
This was important.
Declan didn’t speak.
Keith did. “Can I go? Please?” He pressed harder to the building behind him. “All I did was open the drink. You asked for that bottle. I just opened it. Had no idea what would happen.” He licked his lips. “Saw on the news…heard you were taken…then the cops came for me. I didn’t put anything in there, I swear it! ” His voice shook with intensity. “You barely had three sips. How can I be blamed for what happened?”
Marley’s shoulders stiffened. She thought of the crush she’d just seen in the bar. The bodies piled so tightly. “You know exactly how many sips Declan took?”
Keith sucked in a breath. “I—it was a guess. I guess he had three.”
But it hadn’t sounded like a guess. It had sounded as if he’d been counting. “Where is the bottle that you opened?” Marley wanted to get her hands on it.
“Gone. Trashed. Just like I told the cop!” The words were rushed, and he blinked rapidly. “Trash pickup came first thing this morning—took out all our busted and empty bottles. The thing is long gone!”
“You trashed it?” Things weren’t making sense to Marley. “But you said that particular drink was so expensive that it was barely ever ordered.” Her old boss would have fired her instantly if she’d trashed something so valuable after pouring only one drink from the bottle. “So why would the whole bottle be trashed?—”
Keith cut and ran. He ran straight at her and shoved her with heavy strength, sending Marley tumbling back, then down onto her ass. Gravel from the ground bit into her palms. Her head whipped to the left as Keith hurtled past her.
Only to be stopped by one of the very large shadows.
“Boss wasn’t done talking to you,” the shadow informed Keith. “And it’s not nice to shove pretty ladies to the ground.”
“Damn rude,” the other shadow agreed.
Declan grabbed Keith and hauled him back. “ Exceedingly rude,” he corrected in a chilling voice. “The kind of rude that will get you an ass-kicking.”
Marley brushed off her palms. Her head tilted back as she looked up.
Something just moved on the roof.
Her gaze sharpened. They were in a narrow alley, caged between the club and an old pool hall. She didn’t know why someone would be on top of the pool hall but…
Someone is.
“Need a hand up, PI?” A shadow came closer to her. He extended his hand to her.
She didn’t look his way. Her gaze was on the roof. And…
The light in the alley was still flickering. On and off. On and off.
But up on that roof…
A flash of red. A red shine that shouldn’t be there and if she followed that quick burst of red as it angled down…
It’s pointed at Declan as he pins Keith to the wall.
“No!” Marley screamed as she shoved past the shadow that had offered to help her up. She scrambled forward and her arms wrapped around Declan’s legs as she hurtled her whole body at him. Declan grunted as he went down.
There was a whoosh behind her. A crack. Then another. A sharp cry sounded, and Marley glanced back.
The lights flashed off. On.
Keith’s mouth hung open. He touched his chest.
The light turned off.
“What the hell, Marley?” Declan barked. He tried to push her aside.
The light came back on. Keith was on the ground. Not moving. And…why did his shirt front look so dark? And his head— oh, no, his head!
Marley pressed her lips together.
One of Declan’s shadows—guards—thundered, “Shooter!”
“On the roof!” Marley cried. “To the left!” And she shoved down against Declan just as something hot streaked over her right arm. Marley hissed out a breath.
Declan heaved beneath her.
“Dammit, stay down!” Marley yelled at him.
Gunfire erupted behind them. As in—the shadows were firing up toward the roof.
And Declan was not staying down. He’d rolled and pinned her beneath him.
“You don’t fucking use yourself to protect me,” he gritted. “Not ever.”
Her breath panted out as she stared up at him. Or tried to.
The light turned on. The guards had moved to stand between them and the threat. Their weapons were pointed at the roof.
Rage twisted Declan’s expression.
The light flashed off.
“Haul ass!” An order from one of the guards.
But Declan was already moving. He’d grabbed Marley. He took her right arm and hauled her up and she had to bite back the cry of pain that sprang to her lips. He rushed quickly toward a dumpster, and they took cover behind it.
She heard footsteps thudding and knew that the guards were giving chase after the shooter.
She tried to step forward.
Declan shoved her back. “Fuck, no.”
Marley blinked. “I need to check on Keith!”
“Keith just took a shot to the heart and to the head. Checking on him isn’t gonna help.”
A shudder rolled over her body.
“How’d you know?” Declan demanded. “How the fuck did you know when two guards trained in special ops didn’t see the shooter?”
“I saw a light on the roof,” she whispered. Her arm throbbed horribly, but this did not seem to be the moment to mention that pain.
“Don’t ever put yourself on top of me when bullets are flying.” Low. Lethal. Chilling as the grave.
She wet her lips. They felt incredibly dry. As did her entire mouth. “You have such a terrible way of saying thank you. You did this before, when I saved you at the cabin. And you’re doing it now. A thank you would not kill you?—”
He kissed her. His lips crushed to hers in a hard, demanding, consuming kiss that she had not been expecting. He kissed her with rage and desire, and it was the strangest combination of her life, but she could feel both in the hard press of his mouth. Like they were battling each other.
His mouth tore from hers.
“That still wasn’t a thank you,” she whispered. “But I guess it was close.”
He kissed her again. Harder. Rougher. Need shuddered through her body and confused the hell out of her. How can I want him…now? They were in a dark alley. Hiding behind a dumpster. With…
A dead body? A dead body just a few feet away?
But what if the bartender wasn’t dead yet? What if Declan was wrong?
She tore her mouth from his and pushed against Declan. “I have to check on Keith!”
“You can’t help the dead.” Savage. “Don’t you dare move until this scene is secure. The last thing that I want happening is for you to get hurt.”
Her arm throbbed again. “Um, yeah, about that…” Dizziness swirled through her. Dizziness because of the crazy kiss or because…wait, was her arm soaking wet? Wet from blood?
Declan was going to be difficult about this.
But she didn’t want him moving from cover until the area was secure, so mentioning the arm injury didn’t seem like a good plan. She’d wait until the guards said it was safe. And maybe it wasn’t as bad as she feared. Maybe it wasn’t even her blood. Maybe it’s Keith’s. That was a horrifyingly gross thought. Did she want to be covered in someone else’s blood? Better than my own? “This shooting isn’t random,” she murmured. Declan had to understand this just as she did. “Someone stopped Keith from talking to you.”
“The shooter is tied to the fuckers who took me.”
Right. Yes. So he understood. Of course. She blinked quickly and tried to hold her head perfectly still to stop the dizziness that kept rolling through her. “We have to call the cops,” Marley said. “Get an ambulance for Keith.”
“Again… dead, Marley. He was dead on impact. I was looking at him when you tackled my ass. I saw it happen.”
But maybe he was wrong. “The cops,” she insisted as shivers shook her body.
“Why the hell are you cold?” Declan shouldered out of his suit coat and put it around her body. When he touched her right arm…
Agony.
She almost passed out on him then and there.
Was I shot? Seemed like it. This was her first gunshot wound. She was not handling it well. Or maybe she was. Hard to say. Blessedly, Declan had only put the coat around her shoulders. He hadn’t tried to tuck her arms into the sleeves. If he’d tried that, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped a scream from breaking free.
“Just try saying ‘shooter’ next time,” he groused. “You don’t need to launch yourself into the line of fire.”
“The red dot was on your back. I saw it. You were in the line of fire.” The dizziness was fading. Maybe. “Saying ‘shooter’ wouldn’t have done anything but get you to spin around and look at me. Then he would have shot you in the chest.” And Declan could be the dead one on the ground, not Keith.
No way could that happen.
Her left hand fisted Declan’s shirt. “I don’t want you dead.”
“I don’t plan on dying, so that’s damn good to know.”
She realized he had a gun in his right hand. The man did love his weapons. When had he even pulled out the gun? “We can’t just stay here all night,” she told him.
A shrill ring cut through the night.
His left hand dove into the pocket of his pants. Declan hauled out his phone and put it to his ear. He also turned so that his back was to her. Her hand fell back to her side as he took up a protective position in front of her. He wasn’t supposed to do that. “You’re the client,” she mumbled. “I think you just don’t understand our relationship.” Marley’s words were low.
He shot a glare back her way. Or at least, she was pretty sure it was a glare. Too dark to be certain behind the dumpster. “You don’t understand,” he fired back. Then, into the phone, “Tell me you have the bastard.”
She held her breath.
“Dammit!”
At that explosion from Declan, she took that to mean, no, the guards had not found the shooter.
“I’m getting her out of this freaking alley. Have Andy bring the limo around for me. I’ll cover her six. Tell James we’re coming and?—”
“The cops,” Marley reminded him. “We can’t just leave the scene of a shooting.” That wasn’t the way things worked.
“Call the cops,” Declan bit out. “Because some law-abiding PI is about to lose her mind on this issue.”
Calling the cops at a murder scene was a normal thing to do. Why was he acting like she was the weird one? Again, she was the rational one. She’d have to discuss this issue with him at a later date.
Then the call was over. He spun and grabbed her arm.
Her left, blessedly. Not the right. And he pulled her close. “We’re getting you into the limo. It will be pulling up at the end of this alley in about thirty seconds. It’s bulletproof, so I’ll get you in and you’ll stay there, and we’ll get the fucking cops. Happy?”
No, she was not feeling happy. “I think you should be the one to stay there. You’re the target, not me.”
“Don’t be too damn sure about that.” His hold tightened on her. “ You could have been shot. ”
Maybe she should mention that she was, um, injured. Seemed like a good enough time. “So, don’t freak out on me but?—”
A screech of tires cut through her words.
“Andy is fast,” Declan noted.
The front of the limo stopped about twenty feet away, near the end of the narrow alley.
“You go first. And do not argue with me.” Declan’s grip tightened on her. “I’ll be guarding your back.”
The client wasn’t supposed to guard the PI’s back. Before she could argue—and she had been planning to argue—more footsteps rushed into the alley.
“Declan!”
Her eyes narrowed as she fought to see better in the dark.
James barreled toward them. “Are you hit? Tell me you’re not hit.”
“I’m not hit.” He sounded annoyed. Pissed. “I’m getting her to safety, now.”
“Her?” James’s voice rose. “Forget her. Get in the damn car!”
“Thank you!” Marley declared because there was another reasonable person around. “It’s about time that someone?—”
“Screw it.” Declan scooped her into his arms. “I’ll take care of you myself.”
And it hurt. It hurt so much that she couldn’t speak because her right side had just crashed into him. Declan double-timed it to the limo, with James covering his back. Andy had the door open and ready, and Declan practically threw her inside.
She sprawled on the seat and tried to catch her breath as the pain rolled through her.
“Don’t even think of leaving.” Declan slammed the door shut.
He didn’t get in the limo with her. The idiot had not gotten into the bulletproof vehicle.
She fumbled and pulled out her phone and…because she didn’t exactly trust his guards to do the right thing and call the cops, Marley dialed nine-one-one.
When the operator came on the line, Marley said, “There’s been a shooting.” She hurriedly gave the address. “Two victims. One down. Possibly dead.” She shrugged off the suit coat and tried to eye her injury. The gorgeous cashmere top was soaked with blood and stuck to her arm. “The other vic is injured. Send the cops and an ambulance, would you? And, uh, hurry.” She kept the line open even as she looked down at the seat in the limo.
She was getting blood everywhere. Dammit.