Finlay Donovan Jumps the Gun (Finlay Donovan, #3)(90)

Wade’s knuckles tensed behind his head, as if he was considering something stupid.

“Joey’s here,” I whispered as quietly as I could. “Just keep him talking.”

“Whatever’s in that bag must be hella important,” Wade called out. “You gonna tell us what it is, or are you going to make us guess?”

Stu worked at the zip tie with increasing frustration. “Keep quiet. Unless you have a knife,” he added as an afterthought.

“Why don’t you come frisk me and find out?”

“I’m not an idiot. It would be safer just to shoot you.”

“If you wanted to shoot me, you would have done it already. Why don’t you put the gun down so we can talk?”

“Talk?” Stu laughed.

“That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? Talking?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Wade. You hate talking. You told me as much when the department made you sit on my fucking couch.” He jerked the zip tie with a wince. “I taught the class on hostage negotiation, remember? I wrote a book on it!”

“Then how about you save us both a lot of time and skip to the part where you take the bag and run?”

Stu shot to his feet, shaking his gun at us. “Just shut up and let me think!”

My heart thundered in my chest. This was not the same Stu I’d met with two days ago. This Stu was a cornered criminal who was almost out of options. He could flee, but that would leave two witnesses behind—two people who could connect him to crimes far worse than blackmail.

“What was that?” Stu asked in a low voice, cocking his head toward the quiet crackle of footsteps on ice. His eyes panned the deck. “Who else is up here?”

Wade shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

A loud thwack echoed from the other side of the pump house.

“I got him!” Vero shouted. “I caught Joey! It’s safe to come out, Finn!” She rushed around the corner, holding Joey’s gun.





CHAPTER 35


Vero dropped Joey’s gun as Stu turned his Glock on her. Wade dove for his weapon, his fingers almost grazing it as Stu whirled and pulled his trigger. We all scattered as the shot rang out. Another ricocheted off the roof deck.

I yelped as I came face-to-face with Vero behind the pump house. “What do we do?” I whispered.

“If we try to make it down the stairs, he’ll shoot us both in the ass.”

“Find a place to hide. We’ll split up and confuse him.”

Vero darted into the shadows one way. I crept the other. I peered around the side of the pump house. Stu was leaning over the roof ledge, checking the fire escape below him. I snuck out from behind the wall and ducked behind the nearest shelter I could find, squeezing myself into a dark corner of the roof while his back was turned.

“Finlay! Wade!” Stu called out. “I know you’re up here.”

“Still here, asshole!” Wade answered. I peered around the corner, looking for him. His voice was breathless and strained. It seemed to echo from everywhere. I couldn’t be sure where it was coming from. “You always were a lousy shot.”

“Only because I didn’t want to hurt you,” Stu called back. I held perfectly still as he retrieved Wade’s gun from the ground and tucked it into his coat. He turned, searching the deck for the one Vero had dropped, his voice becoming frantic when he couldn’t find it. “Finlay!” he called out, grabbing the duffel bag. “You and your friend, get back where I can see you! Both of you!”

I pressed back into the wall. The campus was full of cops, I reminded myself. Someone would have heard the gunfire. Any minute, someone would come to check it out. We only had to stay alive long enough for them to get here.

“What the hell is so goddamn important in that bag anyway?” Wade panted.

“Enough to start over.” Stu’s voice broke. I held my breath, listening to the crackle of ice under his shoes. “My future is in that bag.”

Vero’s voice rang out from the far side of the pump house. “Must not be worth very much if you’re sending blackmail letters to Feliks Zhirov.” Stu’s footsteps paused. “Is there a DSM code for being an idiot?” she taunted. “Because he’s going to kill you when he finds you.”

“Hide-and-seek is over! Come out where I can see you!” Stu’s footsteps retreated.

I peeked out from my hiding spot in time to see him stalk around the pump house, searching for Vero.

“Wade?” I whispered. “Where are you?”

His answer came as a soft grunt from the opposite wall. I rushed toward it and spotted the tips of his fingers clinging to the roof ledge. I looked over the side and gasped. “What are you doing down there?”

Sweat bloomed on his brow. The toes of his boots were braced on the windowsill below him, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the concrete. “It seemed preferable to getting shot.”

“What do I do?” I whispered, afraid to touch him. The ground below him was dizzyingly far, solid asphalt. It’s not like I could run down the fire escape and catch him.

Wade cocked his head as Stu’s footsteps started moving in our direction.

“Find my gun and hide,” Wade whispered. “And keep your mouth shut.”