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An accident?Had they not investigated anything? How much were these killers going to get away with? Or was this coverup coming from whichever of Evan’s partners had betrayed him?
Suddenly nauseated, she couldn’t bring herself to read the article. All she could do was thank whoever had the good sense not to publish a picture for Evan’s family to see.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at the headline any longer, so she flipped the paper over and inadvertently scanned another headline.
The blood drained from her head as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed her.
Trembling, unable to pull air into her lungs, she reread the headline and the name just below.
SALT LAKE CITY INMATE WITH SUSPECTED TIES TO ORGANIZED CRIME, FOUND DEAD IN HIS JAIL CELL.
Murder suspect, Gregory Giannetti was found dead in his jail cell in what police are calling suspicious circumstances. The investigation into his death is ongoing…
Chapter 14
“What does this mean?” Tait’s eyes were wide and pleading, her face drained of color as she stared at the paper. “I don’t know what this means.”
The helplessness in her voice alarmed Marcus and tore at his heart. Grasping her hand to still her trembling, he reached for the newspaper and read for himself.
“Could this mean ye willnae have tae testify?” he asked, hoping against hope.
“I don’t know,” she said, shakily. “I hope so. But it could also mean whoever wanted Luca dead—and perhaps ordered Giannelli to see to it—decided he was too big a risk at this point. There was always the possibility he might turn state’s evidence.”
Leaning her elbow on the table, Tait tapped a finger against her lips. “It all seems to connect to whatever is on that microchip. So, whoever initiated Luca’s death will still be after it.”
“And ye as well, as long as ye have it,” Marcus stated. “So ’tis time we leave. We shouldnae stay in one place too long.”
“I agree,” Tait said, tossing the sandwiches back in the sack. “We can eat on the road while we decide where to go next and who, if anyone, we can trust.”
Marcus stood and quickly kissed her. “I’ll get the van while ye dress.”
Fishing the keys from his pocket, he swung the door open and took one step over the threshold when he felt the barrel of a gun press against his temple.
“That’s far enough,” the man flattened against the outside wall, advised. “Just back on in there, buddy, and everything will work out just fine.”
Marcus did as the man ordered, sweeping his gaze around the parking lot to see if there were any others with him, and backed into the room as slowly as possible to give Tait what warning he could.
“Faster,” the man ordered, his deep undertone vibrating on the air. “We don’t want uninvited company joining our conversation.”
Marcus heard Tait’s sharp intake of breath as he backed inside trying to assess both the man and the situation for an advantage, but found none.
Once inside, the man kicked the door shut and looked at Tait, still wearing naught but Marcus’ wolf-shirt. “Tait Keller, I presume?” His half smile was predatory. “I’ve gone to a great deal of difficulty to find you.”
“Who are you?” she asked, reaching for Marcus’ tartan to drape in front of her.
“No need to be afraid,” he assured her. “After learning about poor Marshall Evan Miller’s terrible accident, I wanted to assist by giving you a safe escort back.”
He flicked a glance at Marcus and gave the gun a little nudge. “I’m concerned someone might pretend to be something or someone they’re not to take advantage of you and the situation. Hence the unfortunate necessity of the gun. But with your safety at risk I couldn’t take any chances. By all indications, this man could be holding you hostage.”
“I don’t need an escort.Heis my escort,” Tait stated. “So thank you, but we’re fine, and there’s certainly no reason for your gun. Or for you to worry.”
“I’m afraid I’ll have to determine that for myself.” He tipped his head and raised an expectant eyebrow at Marcus.
“My name is Marcus Beaton,” Marcus ground out.
“Marcus Beaton,” the man repeated as if trying to call up a memory and couldn’t.
Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a badge and held it up for Tait to see. “I’m Randall Parks. Hank Grimes’ partner.” At Tait’s blank look he raised an eyebrow. “You knew him as Luca Santini.”
