Page 41 of Three Steps Behind

Dalton rocked forward with a grunt and rested his arms on the desk, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Always so dapper in his collared dress shirts and linen pants. “You got her back?” His voice rose, his jaw setting. “You got her back. That’s it?”

“Well, yes, sir,” Tony mumbled. “And I subdued her.”

“Subdue her further,” he barked.

“Sir?” Tony’s voice warbled.

“Kill the wench.” A cold edge clung to Dalton’s voice.

Had he just said . . . ? No. No. No. Her chest caved in, the breath sucked from her lungs.

“Kill her?” Tony asked.

“Don’t make the boss repeat himself,” Miquel said, standing and crossing his arms. “You know what to do. Now do it.”

“Tony . . .” Dalton cracked his knuckles. “You see, we need to make an example of her before the other girls get any ideas. Kill her and do it creatively. Now, where are we with the latest shipment?”

Her head spinning, Bristol turned, flattening her back against the wall, hoping for stabilization.

She must be hearing things. Agent Marshall put ideas in her head, and now she was hearing them that way. Maybe it meant something else.

Something else? Get it together, girl. You aren’t stupid. Your super great boyfriend just ordered a woman killed. Bile rose up her throat as words flitted in and out of her hearing.

“What’s the street value?” Dalton asked.

“Half a million,” Miquel said.

“Cut junk into it, and we’ll sell double that.”

“Yes, sir.” Miquel’s voice quavered this time.

“Is there a problem?” The cold edge remained in Dalton’s voice. A tone she’d never heard before.

“No, sir.” Miquel cleared his throat. “It’s just . . . people can die from that.”

“And it’s our problem because . . . ?”

Miquel cleared his throat again. “Because they might come looking for us.”

“They can look all they want. I’ve got this shop locked up tight. They’ll never pin anything on me.”

“And us, sir?” Tony asked, still on the line.

“Or any of my enterprise,” he added.

She stiffened. She’d completely lost her skill of summing people up. Dalton had gotten by her defenses. Made her believe he was a good guy. Agent Marshall was right. She’d been conned by a horrific man.

“All right, this meeting is done. I want the girl dead by midnight, you understand?”

Tony and Miquel both answered in the affirmative.

Ending the call, Dalton pushed back from the desk.

Shoot. She had to move, but would her trembling legs carry her fast enough? What would he do if he found her there? Could she play it off as just walking in all happy to see him and celebrating her early release from prison? She could pull it off if necessary, but she feared she’d vomit all over him at this rate.

Wobbling down the hall, she rounded the kitchen just as footfalls sounded, moving toward her.

Please. Please. Please.