Lies(40)

Bear hustles the lady toward me and the elevator. A porcelain vase shatters on a nearby pedestal. White flowers scatter all around us. Chips of the marble flooring fly through the air as one of the balaclava people sprays bullets in our direction. Bits of stuffing from the couches explode out as bullets fly from Thom returning fire.

One of the bad guys trying to dart to the side wasn’t fast enough. Whoever it is wearing the balaclava in front of the elevator doors lets out a pained grunt and stumbles. Black really does hide the blood. He seems to be falling in slow motion when another bullet hits him in the head. Blood and brains and bone spew out of the exit wound. There’s no hiding that.

Bear arrives and pushes the woman into the opposite corner of the elevator, covering her with his body. She has gray hair, and she looks elegant, even amid all the carnage. Someone’s shouting. I can’t hear what. Thom jumps out from behind a wingback chair, sprinting across the room as the last living bad guy keeps shooting. I cringe as Bear pushes Cory out of the way. He takes no care with the young man’s body. Not that it matters to Cory anymore.

But I did that. I got him killed.

Thom finally joins us, sliding in the blood, almost losing his footing. Slowly, oh-so-slowly, the elevator doors close on the scene. Bullets ping off the metal. One thunks into the wall above my head. All I can smell is gunpowder, dust, and blood. Also, my mind is spiraling. Definitely not keeping up with current events. I notice blood on the white roses. Even discarded and half-trampled, the red speckles on the white petals look kind of pretty.

“Stay down,” orders Thom. “What the hell are you doing here, Betty?”

I try to find the words. They’re just kin of, sort of not there right now. Finally we begin to descend. We’re all in there: me, Bear, Thom, and the lady. Safe for the moment. Oh my God.

“Why did you leave the apartment?” he growls.

“Had to tell you Badger is alive,” I say, voice choked for some reason. “I saw him in the back of a photo, and I thought he might be the bad guy and might try to kill you and…yeah.”

He swears softly.

“That was really scary,” I say, exhaling slowly.

Thom kneels beside me, holding me tight against him. Then he swears some more. Apparently he’s in a super-sweary mood. I can relate.

“I shot someone.” The information doesn’t quite compute. Guess my brain still isn’t working right. Mostly I just feel numb. “Killed them.”

“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, you need to get that gun out of sight.”

“Right. Okay.” I do as told.

Bear, meanwhile, has been busy on his cell phone. “Your car is being brought around right now, ma’am.”

“We’re taking you out the front door,” Thom says to her. “If they got to you up here, it’s likely the underground exit is already compromised.”

The elegant older woman nods and pats down her hair, pulling herself back together. “My security are dead. I trust you’re available to temporarily replace them starting immediately.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Thom swallows. “Everyone on their feet. We’re going to make our way through the lobby as calmly and quickly as possible. Bear, you take the lead. Mrs. Sinclair, please follow closely behind him. Betty and I will take up the back.”

As soon as the elevator doors open onto the lobby, Bear is stepping out, confronting the anxious-looking security guards waiting to go up, likely to check out all the noise coming from the suite. Guns are loud. Even the silenced ones aren’t actually silent. Then there’s all of the blood splattered around the elevator.

“FBI,” says Bear, flashing some doubtless fake I.D. “Step back, please. Keep out of the way.”

Surprise flickers across the two men’s faces. But they do as told. The nearest one says, “Agent—”

“Establish a cordon. Allow no one up to the penthouse suite. More agents will be along shortly to handle the situation.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

We hustle through the space, moving double -time as ordered. The side of my jeans are clinging to my leg, wet with Cory’s blood. All of the marble and crystal and beauty of the place is lost on me. In my mouth there’s an off, sort of sour taste. Violence taints everything. We cut through the crowd, not slowing down for anyone or anything.

A big black luxury sedan with tinted windows waits for us out front. They weren’t kidding about the car being brought around right away. Though if you can afford to stay in the penthouse suite, you’re probably used to such service.

Bear pushes aside the porter holding open the rear door of the vehicle. Then he sticks his head inside, checking out the interior. Mrs. Sinclair climbs into the car.

“Betty, get in the back,” says Thom, giving me a gentle push.

Meanwhile, Bear drags the driver out of the vehicle, flashing his I.D. once more. The man sputters, wearing the same startled expression as the hotel security dudes. Thom then climbs into the passenger side, doors slam shut, and we’re on our way, pulling out into traffic.

Safe for the moment. At least, I hope we are.

“Glass is bulletproof?” asks Thom.

“Yes.” Mrs. Sinclair nods. “I have a property several hours away on the Hudson. We’ll go there.”

“Ma’am, it wouldn’t be safe to—”