Lethal

He’d dropped the weapon and used both hands to snap the guy’s neck.

He didn’t have much more time for decision-making now. He couldn’t see his pursuers yet, but he sensed their urgency to find him.

The odds weren’t in his favor, but he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel, abandon his mission, and let The Bookkeeper continue conducting business.

He wasn’t even ready to call Hamilton and ask for backup from Tom VanAllen, because he didn’t entirely trust his own agency. The bureau probably didn’t entirely trust him either.

For all the FBI really knew, he had gone postal and mowed down everybody in that warehouse on Sunday night. If it became expedient for the bureau to pass him off as a veteran suffering from P.T.S.D., then that’s what they would do, and no one, probably not even the woman sharing a stolen truck-and a wanna-fuck-you-bad kiss with him-would believe otherwise.

Chances were good that he wouldn’t be around to see the smoke clear on this case. He wouldn’t be available to exonerate himself for the warehouse massacre. He’d wind up on a slab, growing cold in infamy. But by God, he wasn’t going to take the fall for The Bookkeeper’s handiwork without putting up a hell of a fight.

This morning had been a close call. As sure as he was still breathing, that engaged cell phone had brought people running to that damn tub, and in all probability Doral Hawkins had been leading the pack. If Emily hadn’t awakened him when she had, they’d all have been shot in their bunks.

Risking his own life was a job requirement. Risking theirs, no way.

Mind made up, he said, “You mentioned a friend yesterday.”

Honor looked over at him. “Tori.”

“Aunt Tori,” Emily chirped. “She’s funny.”

The gender of Honor’s friend shouldn’t have mattered to him at all. He was surprised by how glad he was to learn it was a woman. “Good friend?”

“Best friends. Emily thinks she’s family.”

“You trust her?”

“Implicitly.”

He pulled off the road, rolled to a stop on the shoulder, and dug his cell phone from his front pants pocket. Then, turning to Honor, he laid it on the line. “I gotta dump the two of you.”

“But-”

“No buts,” he said emphatically. “Only thing I need to know, when you’re free of me, are you going to call in the cavalry?”

“You mean Doral?”

“Him, the police, the FBI. Last night, you enumerated all the reasons you came with me. One of them was mistrusting the authorities. Does that still hold?”

She nodded.

“Say it.”

“I won’t call in the cavalry.”

“All right. Do you think your friend would hide you for a couple of days?”

“Why a couple of days?”

“Because that’s how long Hamilton gave me.”

“He gave you less than that.”

“Will she hide you?”

“If I ask her to.”

“She wouldn’t betray your trust?”

Without an instant’s hesitation, she gave an emphatic shake of her head.

“That means she can’t call in the cavalry either,” he said.

“That would be the last thing Tori would do.”

It went against his nature, as well as his training and experience, to trust anyone. But he had no choice except to give Honor the benefit of the doubt. As soon as he was out of sight, she might very well sic Doral Hawkins on him, but that was a risk he had to take.

The alternative was to keep her and Emily with him. If he did, they could very well get hurt or killed. He didn’t think even he, who’d seen unimaginable atrocities, and had inflicted a few himself, could handle watching the two of them die. It was his fault they were in this. He should have left Honor blissfully ignorant.

But second-guessing was a waste of energy, and he didn’t have time for regret.

“Okay. You’re about to put that implicit trust in your friend to the test. What’s her number?”

“It won’t work if you call. I’ll have to.”

He shook his head. “If you do, you could be implicated.”

“Implicated? In what?”

He glanced at Emily, who was singing along with Elmo. The ditty had annoyed him at first, but he was used to it by now and, most of the time, able to tune it out. Coming back to Honor, he spoke softly. “Implicated in any shit that may come down when my deadline expires.” Her green eyes stayed fixed on his; he read the question in them. “If I do nothing else, I’m going to take care of Doral Hawkins.”

“Take care of?”

“You know what I mean.”

“You can’t just kill him,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I can. I will. I am.”

She turned her head away and stared through the bug-spattered windshield at the glowering sky. Visibly distressed, she said, “I’m so far out of my element here.”

“I realize that. But this is my element, so you’ve got to trust my judgment.”

“I know you’re doubtful about Stan. But he would-”

“Not an option.”

“He’s my father-in-law, Coburn. He loves us.”