Her mouth trembled.
Then she looked back at Lynn and pressed harder.
“Don’t die,” she ordered.
Lynn groaned. “You Walsh women are very bossy.”
Maren’s eyes filled.
“Yeah,” she said. “We are.”
Malcolm lowered the massive bulk of his body beside them. “I’ve got her,” he told Maren. “You did good. Now move.”
Maren hesitated.
Malcolm looked up at her, Chicago tone in every word. “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”
Colin helped Maren move out of the way. She held on to him tightly.
Malcolm put one hand over Lynn’s wound and held out the other. “Package.”
Maren pulled the manila envelope from beneath her jacket and passed it to him. He tucked it inside his own jacket without looking away from Lynn’s wound.
“Gun,” Malcolm said to Colin.
Colin’s jaw tightened.
“I’ll preserve it,” Malcolm said. “I’ll deal with local. I’ll deal with federal. I’ll deal with the whole damn alphabet if I have to. You two need to be clean and gone before this place turns into a damn circus.”
Colin handed over his weapon, hating every second of it.
Malcolm glanced at his face and snorted. “Take mine if it makes you feel better.” He held out his own gun, grip-first. Colin took it.
Maren looked between them like they were both insane, which, fair.
“White Toyota Corolla,” Malcolm said, pressing harder on Lynn’s shoulder. “First floor. Key’s in my left jacket pocket. Ironman will route you.”
Another siren wailed, closer now. Colin took the key.
Lynn groaned beneath Malcolm’s hand. He looked down at her. “Stay with me, Carr. You and I are gonna have a very unpleasant conversation when you’re not busy leaking all over my pants.”
Then he looked back at Colin. “Go.”
Colin didn’t argue.
He wrapped one arm around Maren, grabbed what little they had out of the SUV, and he got her the hell out of there.
THIRTY-THREE
Karl Dekker is dead.
The man who had killed Mira, killed Ray Castillo, torn Maren and Juni’s lives apart and started this whole nightmare, was dead.
Maren thought that should make her feel triumphant, maybe, like in the movies. Or just satisfaction. Relief at the very least.
Instead, she felt hollowed out and too full at the same time.
They used the safehouse meant for Lynn to clean themselves up before they got on the plane for Colorado. Minding the speed limit, Colin took a winding route there from the parking garage. The house blended in with the others on the block, many of them short-term rentals, so that it wasn’t unusual to see strangers pull up and key themselves in. If anyone had looked closely, they would have seen a woman whose hair glittered in the sun, whose clothes were covered in dark stains, and a man who looked at the world as if it were coming at them from all directions and he was ready to defend her to the death.
