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The Explorer turned right at a stoplight and passed the offices of Decker and Marsh.
“There’s the parking garage,” Rachel pointed out. She looked at the clock on the dash and noticed it was past six o’clock. “I hope he’s still waiting. He’s not the most patient man, especially where I’m concerned.”
“Looks like everyone has cleared out for the evening,” Shane said.
The Explorer turned into the parking garage, and Rachel saw nothing but concrete and empty parking spaces. Thick pillars sat parallel to each other like stone soldiers as they drove up the ramps to each level.
“He’s gone,” she said, annoyed. “Why does he have to be so difficult? Would it have killed him to wait half an hour? I don’t know how to get in touch with him out of the office. His home and cell number are in my phone back in New Orleans.”
“That is a problem, sugar,” Shane agreed.
Rachel watched as Shane unhooked the .22 from his ankle rig and put it on the console between them. “What’s wrong? I don’t see anyone following us.”
They climbed higher. The shadows grew darker and dread settled in the pit of Rachel’s stomach. There were too many places for one man to hide.
“It’s my fault. I’ve been a little busy since your apartment caught fire yesterday, and I didn’t ask all the questions I should have before we started out together. I guarantee whoever shot at us in New Orleans has already searched what’s left of your apartment. They’ll have your cell phone and any personal contacts you had in it, and they’ll be searching for them.”
“Oh my God, what have I done? I don’t have many people’s information in my phone because I don’t have that many close friends, but my roommate from college and a friend who had the apartment across from mine in Chicago are in there. I have to call them and warn them.”
“As soon as we get out of here,” Shane promised.
Her Uncle Angelo was ruthless, and she prayed it wasn’t too late to save Cleo’s and Randy’s lives. Angelo would leave no stone unturned until he had what he wanted.
They reached the top level of the parking garage and a lone black Mercedes was parked in the corner. The lights were dim and yellow and the Explorer’s engine seemed excessively loud in the quiet.
“I don’t know what kind of car he drives,” Rachel said.
“Only one way to find out.”
They parked the Explorer crosswise behind the Mercedes so they still had easy access to the exit.
“Leave your door open. Just in case,” he told her.
Rachel got out of the car and met Shane around the other side. The .22 was down at his side and his expression was grim. When she looked at the car she understood why. Splatters of blood patterned across the windshield, and a body was hunched over the wheel.
It was a lot of blood.
“Stay back,” Shane said and moved in front of her.
Rachel appreciated the gesture, but now wasn’t the time to get squeamish. Now was the time to find the papers and get the hell out of Dodge. “That’s him,” she said as she walked around the car to get a better look at the victim’s face.
“Good grief, Rachel. Do you ever listen?” he asked. “I told you to stay back.”
“So I have to make you mad before you use my name instead of calling me sugar. Something I’ll have to remember for the future. Let’s get something straight, buttercup. I’ve hired you to protect my life, not my sensibilities. We have more important things to worry about besides whether or not I lose my lunch. I’ve got to find those papers.”
“Whatever you say,” Shane said, putting his hands up. “I always try to accommodate the client, since you’re the one paying the bills.”
Rachel couldn’t help making him angry. It was better than breaking down in front of him and crying her eyes out, which was exactly what she wanted to do. She might be Dominic Valentine’s daughter, but this was the first dead body she’d ever seen. And she hoped it would be the last.
“His briefcase is open on the passenger seat.” Rachel reached for the door handle.
“Don’t touch anything,” Shane said tersely.
Rachel jerked her hand away from the door handle, surprised by the hardness in Shane’s voice. She watched as he went back to the Explorer and dug around until he found a couple of tissues in the glove compartment.
“Thanks,” she said as she took one from him. “I wasn’t thinking about fingerprints.”
“That’s why you pay me the big bucks, sugar. We don’t want to give local law enforcement a reason to look for us. If the FBI got wind of it, it would make things very difficult for the rest of our trip.”
