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“You’re involved. Every person who knows about this sick, sordid scheme is involved. If you’re not doing anything to help, then you’re hurting them.”
“Here’s the thing, Miss Stratford…” He moved right up close. Her shoulders rose as they tensed, each breath got harder than the last. Mila needed her to stand strong. “Alotta what I do hurts someone…” Not that it seemed to bother him when he said it so cold and plain like that. “What you’re looking at is a tiny piece of the puzzle. Just a tiny piece.” He showed a gap between the end of his thumb and forefinger. “But it’s an important piece. Crucial.” When his heavy hand dropped onto her shoulder, she gasped. “If you fuck with the system, the system fucks with you.”
“I thought you weren’t going to hurt me.”
His voice deepened. “Hurting them hurts you.” The back of his fingers rose to her jaw. “Who knows? Maybe a little firsthand experience will show you how important these women are to the bigger picture.”
Their bigger picture wasn’t so rosy. Every other abducted woman had turned up dead.
“What will it take for you to let them go? Right now. Just open the door and let them walk.”
He laughed. “You’re funny, Miss Stratford.” He ruffled her hair. “Funny.” As he turned, he whipped back the curtain and carried onto the door. “See you around, Funny.”
He disappeared into the corridor and the air left her lungs. At the same time, her legs buckled, and she dropped to the bed.
“Oh my God.”
A hand on her chest, the thump of her heart slammed against her. A headache, dizziness, adrenaline was doing its work. What was she supposed to do? How could she…? She’d promised to get justice for Stephanie and the other murder victims. What about the victims still alive? As the Snake Guy said, Swerve, according to Jagg, she couldn’t do anything for the dead. Now the living depended on her too.
“Steph?”
The croak of a voice spun her around.
“Mila, honey.” Sinking onto the bedside chair again, her hand sought Mila’s. “Hi, it’s Imogen Stratford. Do you remember me?”
“Imo…” Mila coughed and winced. “What happened? Where’s Stephanie?”
Oh, God, no. “You don’t remember?”
With her eyes closed, Mila’s brows came closer together. “The car, I remember.” Her eyes opened. “Stephanie’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.” So many times she’d said that word. Never once had she meant it more. “I’m going to get your doctor. Stay here.”
Only a couple of steps toward the door, she faltered. Stay here? What a stupid thing to say. Going into the corridor, Sutherland appeared through the doors at the opposite end with Coakley. Better late than never.
The nurses’ station was the other way. So walking away from them, she went to the desk.
“Mila woke up,” she said, getting their attention. “Can the doctor see her?”
“Yeah,” one woman said and departed.
Drumming her nails on the desk, she peeked over her shoulder. Was Swerve still around? Did she need to be watching her ass? Depending on how this played out, she could be doing that for the rest of her life. The Manzanis… from no risk stories to maximum risk. No one could say she started out small.
TWENTY-NINE
“IMOGEN?”
Sersha walked toward her from behind the nurse’s station.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Sersha took her arm to guide them to a quiet corner. “Does Steeple know about this?”
“About what?”
“What road you’re on. How deep you’re getting. He’ll want to know if there’s a risk to your safety. The Chronicler can provide security.”
“You never have security and you’re mixed up with the Manzanis, way more than I knew. Does Steeple know you have Vex Manzani’s phone number?”
