eyes cast below her, watching, waiting for the man to spot her. From this distance he could probably pick her off with his pistol and leave her for the pigeons to peck at her body. She had gone halfway before Thug Number One’s cell phone rang. Taylor Swift’s “Mine” rang out loudly. She stopped, stunned and shook her head. People could surprise you.
“ Da ,” she heard him say.
Please don’t look up.
She assumed that it must be his partner in crime ringing him from her apartment to let him know she wasn’t there. He was more than likely coming back down to help with the search on street level. Standing still on the fire escape, she held her breath and wished to be invisible as Number One moved about beneath her. She could see him clearly from her position, nothing obstructing her view whatsoever. His dark hair was uncombed and stuck up at odd angles, and he wore a leather jacket.
She carefully removed her iPhone from her pocket and brought up her camera function, positioned it and pressed the button, the sound echoing in the early morning. She almost wet her pants right then and there, having forgotten about the sound, and quickly flicked the button to silence the phone. Thug Number One was so engrossed in his conversation that he hadn’t heard her. She returned her phone to her pocket, silently cursing her stupidity. That could have easily proved fatal. She continued slowly down the fire escape, praying Mikhail’s man would stay distracted long enough for her to get to her car.
Another car door closing had her head spinning towards the sound, her neck protesting the action, her hand reaching up to massage the strained muscle. Detective Harrington strode across the road purposefully, his speed not what she’d expect from a man his age. He headed for the door of her building, and as he did so, walked past Thug Number Two, the two giving each other a slight nod. She stilled, narrowing her eyes.
It could have been a simple good morning nod for two strangers walking past one another or it could have been a message to a comrade in arms. She wasn’t one for coincidences. The timing was suspicious. Why else was he here at her apartment building at this hour? He was obviously not here delivering the news that she was no longer a person of interest. That kind of thing could be said over the phone. The fact that he was here at the same time as her friends from the local mafiya had cold sweat running down her spine.
She wasn’t about to stick around to find out whose side he was on. Even if the detective was here to take her down to the station to ask her a few questions after her lack of communication the day before, she knew she wouldn’t survive the night. Gripping the fire escape hard, her knuckles went white. Great, so not only did she have the local brotherhood chasing her, but Washington’s finest as well. Unfortunately for her, neither was her salvation.
Reaching the pavement, she hid in the small alley between her building and its neighbor. She shook uncontrollably. Fear had once again reared its ugly head, but she was glad it wasn’t the paralyzing kind. Peering around the corner when another voice spoke, she found Thug Number Two had joined his partner on the street and was looking around. She heard Number One say, “She has to be around somewhere. Her car’s still here.”
Shit. There goes that option.
They were going to be watching her car unless—
A man with grey hair walked past the two thugs. If she timed herself just right….
A gust of wind blew her hair into her face and not for the first time, she cursed her vivid red hair. She may as well be wearing a target on her back. She would have found it easier blending in wearing flaming pink at Capitol Hill.
The man was just about to pass her when she took a deep breath and fell into step with him. He gave her a cursory glance and she said, “Ex-boyfriend. Can’t let it go.”
He nodded as if it made sense and didn’t make a deal out of
“ Da ,” she heard him say.
Please don’t look up.
She assumed that it must be his partner in crime ringing him from her apartment to let him know she wasn’t there. He was more than likely coming back down to help with the search on street level. Standing still on the fire escape, she held her breath and wished to be invisible as Number One moved about beneath her. She could see him clearly from her position, nothing obstructing her view whatsoever. His dark hair was uncombed and stuck up at odd angles, and he wore a leather jacket.
She carefully removed her iPhone from her pocket and brought up her camera function, positioned it and pressed the button, the sound echoing in the early morning. She almost wet her pants right then and there, having forgotten about the sound, and quickly flicked the button to silence the phone. Thug Number One was so engrossed in his conversation that he hadn’t heard her. She returned her phone to her pocket, silently cursing her stupidity. That could have easily proved fatal. She continued slowly down the fire escape, praying Mikhail’s man would stay distracted long enough for her to get to her car.
Another car door closing had her head spinning towards the sound, her neck protesting the action, her hand reaching up to massage the strained muscle. Detective Harrington strode across the road purposefully, his speed not what she’d expect from a man his age. He headed for the door of her building, and as he did so, walked past Thug Number Two, the two giving each other a slight nod. She stilled, narrowing her eyes.
It could have been a simple good morning nod for two strangers walking past one another or it could have been a message to a comrade in arms. She wasn’t one for coincidences. The timing was suspicious. Why else was he here at her apartment building at this hour? He was obviously not here delivering the news that she was no longer a person of interest. That kind of thing could be said over the phone. The fact that he was here at the same time as her friends from the local mafiya had cold sweat running down her spine.
She wasn’t about to stick around to find out whose side he was on. Even if the detective was here to take her down to the station to ask her a few questions after her lack of communication the day before, she knew she wouldn’t survive the night. Gripping the fire escape hard, her knuckles went white. Great, so not only did she have the local brotherhood chasing her, but Washington’s finest as well. Unfortunately for her, neither was her salvation.
Reaching the pavement, she hid in the small alley between her building and its neighbor. She shook uncontrollably. Fear had once again reared its ugly head, but she was glad it wasn’t the paralyzing kind. Peering around the corner when another voice spoke, she found Thug Number Two had joined his partner on the street and was looking around. She heard Number One say, “She has to be around somewhere. Her car’s still here.”
Shit. There goes that option.
They were going to be watching her car unless—
A man with grey hair walked past the two thugs. If she timed herself just right….
A gust of wind blew her hair into her face and not for the first time, she cursed her vivid red hair. She may as well be wearing a target on her back. She would have found it easier blending in wearing flaming pink at Capitol Hill.
The man was just about to pass her when she took a deep breath and fell into step with him. He gave her a cursory glance and she said, “Ex-boyfriend. Can’t let it go.”
He nodded as if it made sense and didn’t make a deal out of
Similar Books
