AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He was too busy trying to catch his last breaths.” He patted his jacket pocket. “I did get his prints, though—just in case the SFPD doesn’t care to share his identity.”
“I stuck as closely to the truth as possible—my friend left me a key to his locker at Mission Hope and that man attacked us and held me at gunpoint to get whatever was in the locker.”
Joe massaged his temples. “Which was empty, anyway.”
“Not. Quite.” Hailey slid a slip of paper from inside her bra and proffered it to Joe between thumb and forefinger.
He jerked forward. “You got this out of the locker?”
“My hand was already inside the locker when the fake transient made his move. I snatched the piece of paper and shoved it down my top, pretending to hold my hand against my heart.”
“I’ll be damned.” He punched on the dome light with his knuckle and read aloud. “‘I’m still alive. MDB.’”
“Marten. Marten’s still alive.”
“And this—” Joe waved the slip of paper in the air “—is how he decided to tell you? That son of a...”
Hailey snatched the paper from his hands, crumpled it up and swallowed it.
His eyebrows jumped to his hairline. “Why’d you do that?”
“I don’t want anyone to see it. Nobody needs to know that Marten survived that push or fall or jump from the ferry.” She patted her stomach. “Nobody knows.”
“I think you’re taking this subterfuge a little overboard.” He smacked the dashboard. “He put you in all kinds of danger by leaving you that key just to tell you he was among the living.”
“I don’t think that was his original intent, Joe. I believe he left me something in that locker, and when he survived, he returned to the shelter to collect it and replaced it with that note.”
“You’re probably right. That makes the most sense.” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “Why hasn’t he come forward with his info yet? It would be stupid to change his mind now because the people after him don’t care and wouldn’t trust him, anyway.”
“He must be in hiding, waiting for the right moment.”
“The right moment is now, to protect you and get these people off your back. Doesn’t he realize he’s put your life in danger with his silly spy games?”
“Maybe he’s not aware of the attempts on my life.”
Joe clenched his jaw. “He should’ve been able to figure that out. He knew people were following him. He knew enough to arrange a secret meeting with you and to leave you the evidence in case something happened to him.”
“I’m just amazed Marten was able to survive in the bay that night.”
“You heard Joost. Marten was some kind of Olympic swimmer.”
“That survival is a story I hope to hear someday—straight from Marten’s lips.” Hailey started the engine and cranked up the heater. “I hope Trace is going to be okay. What do you think the police are going to find out about the dead guy?”
“Probably whatever his bosses want them to know. That’s why I took his fingerprints myself.” Joe sawed his lower lip with his teeth as he stared at the alley behind the shelter.
“What’s wrong?”
“The twenty-five-million-dollar question.”
“Which is?”
“How the hell did anyone know about that key? How did that man know we would be at the shelter at precisely that minute?”
“He followed us from the house.”
“Dressed as a transient?”
“He...he—Wait.” She braced her hands against the steering wheel. “You can’t be implying that Patrick had anything to do with this.”
“Patrick? He’s not the only other person besides us who knew about the key and the shelter.”
Hailey knitted her brows. “Not Ayala.”
“She’s the only person outside of Patrick and us and maybe Joost who knew about the key.”
“That’s not possible.” A flash of heat claimed her body, and Hailey turned down the car heater. “Ayala was attacked last night. Poisoned.”
“Was she? That’s not what the toxicology report indicated.”
