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“We think Leo Gambino may have been murdered.”
The blood in my veins turned to ice, and I couldn’t breathe. I tried for the chair behind the desk and almost didn’t make it. I pulled myself up, tears threatening. He didn’t want any damned stick; he wanted to kill me.
“Serena, did you hear me?”
“Uh-huh,” I croaked out.
“This is good news.”
“How?” I squeaked. “You’re telling me he wants to kill me just because I work here.”
“No,” Lucas’s voice came on the line. “It’s good because we know more than we did yesterday, and we know he wants the drive, wherever it is. He most likely had Rossi tortured, and she told them she gave it to you.”
I shook my head. “That sounds like you’re telling me he plans to catch me and torture me.”
Their combined silence spoke volumes.
My stomach lurched. “I’m still not hearing the good news part.”
“We’re not going to let that happen,” Duke finally said.
“I think I’m going to puke,” I said as I got up to run to the bathroom.
Duke pickedme up after work, as had become our pattern, but the kiss that started out for my coworkers’ benefit had shifted to real in the last few days.
He pulled me against his solid body and stroked my hair. “I realize we freaked you out this afternoon, but you wanted to stay in the loop.”
I held on as tightly as I could. “Yeah, but I didn’t count on you telling me torture was now his goal.”
“I’ve got your back, baby.”
I pushed away. If the killer was targeting EPA people, I wanted to get away from here. “Let’s go. Can we watch a happy movie tonight?”
“It’s your house. I’d say you get to control the clicker. Anything in particular?”
“Legally Blonde.”
“Sure. The underdog wins the day.” He was more perceptive than I’d given him credit for.
I nodded. “Yeah. Against all odds.”
Back at home,nothing out of the ordinary happened. It was approaching dinnertime, Constance had gone home, and Duke was on a grocery run. So it was only Terry with me when the doorbell rang.
He pulled his gun. “Are you expecting anyone?” He started for the front door.
I followed. “No.”
He peered through the peephole. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I pushed him aside and checked the peephole myself. “Put that cannon away.” I waved him back. “I forgot Grace was coming over.”
He holstered the weapon. “Get rid of her.”
I glared at him. “No.” I pulled the door open for my best friend. “Hi, Gray.”
She came in and engulfed me in our special style of hug, long and tight, the way we’d done in our trauma support group.
I stepped back and closed the door. “Grace and I are cooking together tonight.”
