Page 126 of I’ll Be Watching You

Tim Miller, the administrator’s nephew. Mildred figured the greedy tech nerd wouldn’t talk, and he shouldn’t have known enough to incriminate anyone, except maybe Peter. Still, she couldn’t be certain.

She had thought her performance for the Angelharts had bought her time, and perhaps innocence. What accomplished, mature woman such as herself would be party to anything violent?

But now, she was concerned. Because Peter was a wild card. He knew too much. They needed him dead. Sooner, not later.

They had agreed not to kill Margo three and a half years ago because of the real fear that Cooper Angelhart had information that could harm them. If they went after anyone in his family, he might have talked. That he believed they would kill kept him quiet. Perhaps the death of the nurse had loosened his lips. Except—he couldn’t have known about Tim Miller. Could he?

No. Impossible. They found the medical records tech another way.

This entire week had started wrong and went south quickly, all because Novak had a standing appointment to check his prosthetic arm.

Not knowing information was driving her crazy, and thinking about all the potential problems was giving her a headache.

Sal called her as she pulled the golf cart into her garage. This couldn’t be good; he never called her.

“Yes?” she answered.

“Carter was shot. He’s in critical condition. They don’t expect him to survive, but one of his girlfriends is the one who called the ambulance, and the police are all over his house.”

“He wouldn’t be so foolish to have anything incriminating.”

“I doubt it.”

“Doubt? Or know?”

“He didn’t call me as he usually does after a job. I looked into it, and Tim Miller was shot in Flagstaff, but is expected to recover. He’ll give Peter’s name if he hasn’t already. Two people were questioned by the police. Want to bet they were Angelharts?” he muttered with contempt.

“But,” Sal added, “the primary reason I’m concerned is that Carter is legally on my payroll. The police are going to investigate because he was shot, and they will ask me questions.”

“Are you going to be safe?”

“Yes,” he said. “Unless Peter talks. I sent someone else after him, but he’s not at home. Carter was the best, but my backup is good.”

“He ran, that weasel,” Mildred said.

“Probably.”

“Roger and I are leaving for Australia tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know when we are settled. Be careful, Sal.”

“You too, Mildred.”

She ended the call and entered her town house through the laundry room. Put her bag down on the counter, retrieved a cold bottle of water, and headed to her office. She hadn’t wanted to travel until Monday because transferring money was more difficult on the weekends, especially the amounts she would need, but she couldn’t risk that Peter would talk to the police to save his own ass.

Never trust a gambler.

Peter Stockman was sitting at her computer.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Getting what’s mine before the shit hits the fan.”

He had a gun and it was aimed at her.

“I have given you everything for sixteen years and you point a gun at me?”

“Like you didn’t tell your brother that I can’t be trusted.”

Mildred didn’t say a word. How did Peter know Sal was her brother? They didn’t socialize, were never seen together, except at the club. She was a patron of the establishment, no one would think that she had more than a professional acquaintance with Sal.