The Chaos Kind (John Rain #11)(29)

Dox said, “Time for what?”

Manus looked at Larison.

Larison said, “Time to kill whoever’s behind this.”

Manus nodded.

“Your people,” Larison said. “Are they in danger now?”

Manus had already been over and over that. He couldn’t see any advantage for anyone in moving against Evie or Dash. It would get them nothing, other than Manus’s implacable rage. Still, it was hard not to worry.

“I don’t think so,” Manus said. “And I can’t . . . If I tried to warn them, I don’t think it would help. It would only be . . . upsetting.”

Larison nodded. “That’s good. Back to Plan A, then. Kill whoever’s behind this.”

Manus wasn’t sure why Larison would care. And maybe he didn’t. But at least he understood.

“So Diaz was too high-profile,” Larison went on. “You were supposed to be a one-off. Disposable.”

Manus nodded again. “I was worried about that, too. They were guarding their information tightly. They never gave me a name. Only a description. They told me the woman liked to run in the park, and I should wait there early every morning. They gave me a burner and said they would text me photos when she was on her way to me. Several different ones, distance and telephoto, all taken just before being sent.”

“To make confirmation easier and more reliable,” Dox said. “You see the clothes she’s wearing, whether her hair was up or down, everything. They were supposed to do the same thing for us with you, though I suppose that’s been overtaken by events.”

“What about the cellphone?” Larison said. “You weren’t nervous they were tracking you?”

“They’d tracked me already. Besides, they knew I would be in the park every morning. So I wasn’t worried about them doing anything before I killed Diaz. That’s what confused me when I saw the two of you. I knew something was off, but it was too early. Plus you were holding hands. That was smart.”

“My idea,” Dox said. “Just saying.”

“I knew it was high-profile,” Manus added. “They told me they wanted it to look like she’d fallen. Or was mugged. Not like an assassination.”

Dox looked at Larison and nodded, then turned back to Manus. “Yeah, we figured it would be that way. Our guy tracked her cellphone, too, and we decided that for natural, the park was the best option.”

Manus tried to imagine a different explanation, but there was nothing that made sense. It felt like Dox was telling the truth. “That was smart, too,” he said.

“If we’re so smart,” Larison said, “why do we keep pissing off the wrong people?”

Dox laughed. “You know why. You just enjoy it.”

Larison looked as though he was going to protest, then just shrugged.

“The person who sent you to stop me,” Manus said. “Can he tell us more?”

“I hope so,” Dox said. “I’ll get details when we’re done here and safely away.”

Larison looked at Dox, then seemed to remember himself and looked back at Manus. “What about ‘She who must not be named’?”

Dox scowled. “Stop that.”

“You know you were going to see her anyway. And Diaz is a prosecutor. Your lady might know something about this. And she’s sure as hell going to hear about what happened in the park this morning. What’s she going to make of it when Diaz describes the chivalrous Texan who warned her of danger in the park?”

Dox shook his head and looked genuinely pained. “I do want to see her. But the whole point of this was to keep her out of it.”

“Well, you’re batting five hundred.”

Dox nodded. “All right. Shit, I hope I’m not rationalizing.”

“And there’s someone else we should call. In case whatever we’re up against is even bigger than we think it is. Which is probably the case.”

“Yeah? Who’s that?”

“Rain.”





chapter

twenty-two





LIVIA


The morning briefing was excruciatingly long. All Livia could think about was how badly she wanted to call Carl and debrief Diaz. Her anxiety was made worse when one of the detectives, Suzanne Moore, showed everyone a live television interview she had pulled up on her cellphone—Diaz, talking to a gaggle of reporters. Diaz hadn’t mentioned the Texas accent, thank God. But she did recount the rest—three big men, one of whom had warned her by name that this was about her case.

Livia couldn’t deny that the impromptu press conference was a clever move. Anyone hoping to bury the Schrader prosecution by killing the prosecutor would know that any subsequent attempt would have the opposite effect. With luck, Alondra was now untouchable. Which probably meant Schrader himself was at increased risk. Among the many things Livia urgently wanted to discuss with Alondra was how to increase Schrader’s protection.

The moment the briefing was done, Livia headed into the corridor and toward the elevators. She checked her phone—three calls from Diaz. Shit. She was about to call back when the screen lit up with an incoming Blocked Caller.

She answered, simultaneously hoping and afraid it might be him. “Hello?”

“Hey, darlin’. It’s me and I’m so sorry to bother you. Can you talk?”