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“What the fuck, Abel?” Quaide asked.
“You did not just say you’re making popcorn,” Clay added.
Being around these young pups, Quaide was feeling older and older by the day.
“What’s the problem? It’s not any different from watching the ID channel,” Julius said.
Quaide wagged his head in awe. “Uhh, yes, it is. Because it’s real.”
Julius twitched his jaw toward the phone on the desk. “I’ll be right there, kid. Don’t start without me. I love a goodYcut.”
“Oh my god,” Quaide grumbled.
“Well, I do have a steady hand. Okay,” came Raven’s voice again. “I’m prepping the body. I need a minute.”
“Three minutes in the microwave and I’ll be here.” Julius swung out the door, leaving a stunned silence hanging between Quaide and Clay.
“Can you believe that guy?” Clay jerked his thumb toward the door Julius exited through.
Quaide stretched out his legs and crossed his ankles. “Well, youarethe boss. You hired him.”
Clay sighed. “Not gonna let me live that down, are ya?”
“Not a chance.” He clicked the video link and the autopsy room filled the big-screen TV on the wall.
Raven was busy at work with the body. They watched her for a short time before Julius strode in, bringing the scent of buttery popcorn with him.
“I’m back! What’d I miss?” He reached into the bag and then popped a piece in his mouth.
Raven looked up at the camera. “Nothing. I’m still checking out the victim’s clothing.”
Julius studied the screen for a moment while munching. “Can you zoom in?”
With an exasperated tilt of her head, Raven stared straight at the camera. “No. This isn’t a cam show.”
Quaide didn’t need to see this, so he swiveled his seat to the computer and started doing research on the biggest question in his mind—who the hell was Rain?
Okay, that wasn’t the biggest question. The first was who she was and the biggest was how she was related to his former assistant.
Lark poked her head through the door. “Uh…Clay? Somebody’s here asking about insurance?”
Clay scrubbed a finger between his brows. “Fucks’ sake. We’ve gotta get out of this building. We either need to be hiding in plain sight or just plain hiding.”
“What is it with you guys speaking in rhymes?” Barker-Moore asked the room at large.
Quaide straightened, his mind latching on to the obvious answer.
His house was large enough for the Sentry team. It even had spare bedrooms if the guys needed places to crash. It would be easy to stock with food and toiletries, even clothes if they got into a tight spot and were in need of a clean set.
In the background, he faintly heard Julius asking questions about the autopsy happening in live time on the screen while other voices from the front told him that Clay was having a difficult time answering the unwanted customer’s questions about insurance.
Onscreen, Quaide sifted through information about Rain. Every time her photo popped up it was another blow to his gut that left him aching for the woman who resembled her so damn much. Rain could be Dove’s sister or cousin.
He didn’t know a lot about Dove’s personal life. Banging his assistant was bad enough, and there was no room for stepping over more boundaries. They had agreed—no personal life details. They wouldn’t exchange addresses, just meet at hotels. There was that one time at the cabin too…
As he moved through some of the darker corners of the web, he snapped back to attention. Sentry monitored calls for execution with hitmen involved. Seeing Rain’s picture on that site wasn’t unexpected…but it wasveryshocking.
Who would want her dead? What connection did she have to their guy at the river?
