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Reggie frowned. “Atlanta. My auntie lives there and she has been trying to get mom to move, but we don’t have the money and auntie’s place isn’t big enough for us.”
Midnight nodded. “Go home. I’ll talk to Biggy.”
Reggie looked like he was going to argue, but she breathed a sigh of relief when he suddenly ran like the hounds of hell were on his heels and disappeared into the darkness. Midnight turned her attention to Aaron who was now sitting up and staring at her as if she were a ghost. His dark face was smeared with dirty tear tracks.
“Let’s get you home, too. If you ever do anything this stupid again, you’ll be on your own.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron murmured.
Midnight waited until she was certain they would be safe before she put in a message to her sister. She leaned her head back against the rough brick wall as Bugs contacted Aaron’s grandparents. Her adrenaline was ebbing, and she was hurting. She pulled a bandana out from her back pocket and surreptitiously pressed it against the wound in her side.
Twenty minutes later, an older model Ford sedan pulled up. Aaron whispered a quick thanks before he darted to the car and slid onto the back seat. The older couple anxiously fussed over him. Midnight smiled.
Now that she was alone, she pulled another scarf from her bag and tied it around her injured calf, biting back a groan as she bent to reach it. With dread, she hooked a finger in the bullet-shaped hole in her sweater. Her breath slowly left through her nose and her teeth clenched as the blood-soaked fabric of the scarf she had pressed against her flesh slowly peeled away from her wound.
She closed her eyes dizzily, telling herself that at least she wasn’t worried about her leg.Thatbullet had only grazed her. The one in her side, though, was different. She was going to need more help with it.
Idella’s nightclub, Colours, was only a block away, a lot closer than trying to make it home. Harry could help her. He worked security there, but was also the resident doc.
Harry was a hundred years old, or at least he looked like it. He had practiced medicine for fifty years before his wife died and he decided he wanted to retire and try something else. How he ended up at Colours, she didn’t know. He never talked about that part of his life, just that Idella offered him the position and he took it.
Midnight pulled her scattered thoughts together and pushed a hand against the brick, uncaring that she was leaving a perfect handprint against the dirty, red stone. It would wash off with the next rain. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she put pressure on her side and stumbled forward, feeling surprisingly weak.
Five minutes later, she was pulling herself up the fire escape, one hand at a time. She was covered in a clammy sweat and shivering. She knew this wasn’t good.
She rolled over the waist-high wall of the rooftop terrace and hit the floor with a thud. Pain exploded through her side. She sucked in shallow breaths, trying to blink away the dark spots dancing in front of her eyes.
I’ll just lie here for a little while,she thought fuzzily.
Six
“No, I don’t have anything yet," Jameel greeted. "It’s kind of hard to find something with no information to go on.”
“I have a name for you,” Junayd said.
“Finally! Who did you have to murder?”
“I said I have a name. I didn’t say it was her real one.”
Silence greeted his response. Finally Jameel said, “Well, I guess if you have a pseudonym, it is better than nothing. Did your mystery lady give it to you?”
“She did. She broke into the apartment,” he said, standing next to the window where he had enjoyed his unusual dinner the night before.
“What? How? Where was your security? Does Tarek know?”
Junayd grinned. “Breathe, Jameel. She came in through the servant’s entrance, and no, I haven’t spoken to Tarek. There is no need. She isn’t a threat to me.”
“He says before this mystery woman plunges a knife into his back. So, what name did she give you?”
“Midnight Rain,” he replied, almost embarrassed to say it.
“Midnight?" Jameel asked. "As in the lady who does security for Idella?”
Junayd stiffened. “You know her?”
“Well, I don’tknowher, but yes, I’ve heard of a woman named Midnight. I’m not sure what her last name is and there are no photos, but there wasdefinitelya woman named Midnight working with Idella in Simdan.”
A myriad of emotions swept through Junayd. His mystery woman knew Idella. That would explain how she knew about Coldhouse but not about Bronislav.
