Police Business. Julie Miller
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Someone was dead. The man in black had just killed…
“Daddy?” she whispered the unthinkable thought, squeezing her fist so tightly that her necklace snapped.
A sharp gasp was the only curse she allowed herself as the clasp broke and pearls fell into her hand. She twisted to keep her elbow close to her body to catch the falling strand in the crook of her arm. Tiny knots kept most of the beads together in one string, but she contorted herself to catch two, three…but a fourth hit the floor, bounced off the hard wood and rolled away into the darkness.
To Claire’s ears, there was no sound.
But in her mind, the bounce was deafening.
She whipped her head up to the lighted doorway. How loud was a single pearl? How good was the man in black’s hearing?
How dead would she be if she were caught?
Concern for her father dimmed, and fear for herself blazed through her veins in full force.
Claire dropped to her haunches and crawled toward the aquarium, her instincts warning her to duck behind its thick mahogany base. Or maybe it was the pounding of her racing heart that made her suddenly too light-headed to stand. Daddy! She cried the word inside her head, knowing he wasn’t there to help. She shoved the remains of the traitorous necklace inside her jacket pocket and tucked her legs beneath her, making herself as small as a child, hiding before the man turned and spotted her.
If it wasn’t already too late.
Claire blinked and the tears spilled over to run down her cheeks. But she held her breath and disappeared from view between the jungle-size plants and their low, sheltering branches. She counted the seconds off silently in her head until her lungs burned and forced her to inhale.
With fresh oxygen came a fresh thought. He hadn’t found her. He hadn’t snatched her up by the hair or arm, or put a bullet through her head. She hadn’t felt his footsteps through the floor or smelled him walking past, either.
Feeling safe for the moment, something new—something harder, tougher, angrier—slipped past her fear and grief, clearing her head.
With a bold sense of purpose, Claire scooted to the end of the aquarium and peeked through the camouflage of leaves. From this angle she could see the man with the gun. Above the partition that blocked his lower body from view, she memorized the shape of his face, the cut of his hair and every acne-pocked scar on his deeply tanned cheeks.
She swiped the tears from her cheeks and squinted harder, noting the movements of his long, thin lips. He was talking again. Having a conversation. Though the second person remained hidden from view behind a steel panel, she could interpret his pauses and nods.
At this distance, she couldn’t hear the words. But then, Claire didn’t need to.
“That’s number four on your list,” the man said.
Four dead bodies? He’d killed others? Why? Inching closer, she pressed her shoulder into the aquarium’s base and eavesdropped with her eyes. Who was he?
The man in black frowned. His eyes narrowed as he tilted his chin. “You don’t tell me when or where I do the job. When you hire me, all you have to know is that the job will get done.” He smiled. It was a cold, evil thinning of his lips that twisted Claire’s stomach into knots. “Think of it as insurance for both of us. You know that the people in your way have been disposed of. And I know you won’t turn me in if someone figures out that you’re the one behind all this.”
Another pause. Who was he talking to? Who would want her father dead? Where was Valerie? Claire read the argument on his lips.
“Relax. I’m too good at my job for anyone to find me, much less find out who hired me.” He buttoned his suit coat over his gun. “The last two will be eliminated once I feel the timing is right. In the meantime, I’ll expect another deposit into my account for this one. By ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Or you’ll find your name on my list. No charge.”
His partner must have said something that displeased the man in black. His thready smile became an ugly frown.
“I’m worth every penny you’re paying me. I never miss.” When he leaned toward his unseen partner in crime, Claire backed away, as if the cold-blooded threat in his eyes was intended for her. “If I say I’ll kill someone, they’ll be dead. And I won’t leave a trace.”
Claire’s breath rushed out in a gasp deep enough to stir the leaves of the ficus beside her. Quickly, she slapped her hand over her mouth. Had she made a noise? Had he heard her?
Though he didn’t react as if he suspected he was being watched, when he turned to exit her father’s office, Claire curled into a tiny ball and prayed to God that the aquarium, plants and shadows would keep her hidden from view as he walked past.
The man in black strolled by, his heavy size shaking the floor beneath her knees with every step. She bowed her golden hair out of sight so that she felt, rather than saw, the second person—lighter in weight—hurry behind the hired killer at a faster pace.
Claire held her breath, closed her eyes and prayed. She couldn’t make out the sounds of the elevator at this distance. So she hid there, hunching beside the aquarium, letting terror and grief hold her still long after the vibrations of the footsteps through the floorboards had faded. She waited until her thighs and knees began to cramp. Waited until she sensed that she had been alone for several minutes.
Then she slowly pushed to her feet. Her purse dropped into her shaky grasp as she stared down the long hallway into the darkness. Before fear made her foolish, before grief sent her into shock, Claire turned. On numb feet, she stumbled toward her father’s office, praying for some sort of miracle every step of the way.
“Daddy?”
The steel door frame was as cold beneath her fingertips as the blood flowing through her veins.
Her father’s chair was empty. She stepped inside and summoned her courage to walk around Cain Winthrop’s immaculate desk and take a peek. Claire gripped the edge of the mahogany top, nearly collapsing with relief.
Then shock and compassion pushed aside the traitorous emotion. She wiped away her tears and knelt down as she fully absorbed the awful truth. There was a body on the floor, with two neat bullet holes piercing the heart and forehead.
Her father wasn’t dead.
But Valerie Justice was.
“BUT, DAD, I’m telling you—I saw Valerie murdered!” Claire thrust her right index finger beneath her left palm, furiously signing the word for murder as she spoke. “That man shot her in your office. He had a gun. A silencer. I saw him.”
“Slow down, sweetheart. You’re slurring your words. I thought you said you saw a murder.”
Still breathless from fear, the fastest drive of her life across the city and her run up the front steps of her family’s Mission Hills home, Claire’s frustrated sigh left her light-headed. She shrugged free of Cain Winthrop’s placating grip on her shoulders and signed an emphatic statement. “I did.”
“I thought you were meeting Rob Hastings for drinks tonight. After that school thing you went to.”
Meeting the platonic friend her father had handpicked to become something more than a friend had completely slipped her mind. But, despite the stab of guilt she felt, even standing up a good friend didn’t seem important now. She drew her palm across her forehead and closed her hand into a fist, signing the message, “I forgot.”
“You forgot?” He scratched the top of his snowy white hair and shook his head. “Rob’s a nice boy. I know he’ll do big things with the company. It’s not like you to go off on some wild goose chase when—”
“I went to see you!” Claire tamped down on her impatience and turned away. Sure, her father could communicate with her about manners and dating, but he refused to listen to her account of what she’d seen in his office.