Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“Including the penthouse, fifty.”
“Look up who owns the penthouse.” This is Tom Hayley we’re talking about. Egomaniac. If he’s going to own an apartment in a block, you bet your arse it’s going to be the best one. When Otto curses, I peek up at the mirror. “Well?” I ask. Come on, who is it? Surprise me.
“Tom Hayley,” Otto whispers, and I nod.
“For fuck’s sake.” Danny dials Rose again and curses again when she doesn’t answer. “We need to make it to Amber before Beau.”
“You’ve spent too much time with Brad.”
“Fuck off.”
Otto works his magic on the CCTV system, cutting all the cameras, before we all pile out and approach the elevator. He rips the keypad panel off the wall and plugs something in, pressing a few buttons. The elevator doors slide open. “Clear?” I ask.
“From what I can see.”
Translated, can’t be sure.
The tension is horrific as we travel up, and my eyes are constantly batting between Otto, Danny, and the floor counter. We all pull our weapons at the same time as the lift approaches the penthouse, jolting as it slows to a stop. I plaster my back to the wall with the others and wait until the doors are open before peeking around the edge.
Empty. Quiet. I lift a foot to step out.
“Wait,” Otto blurts, stilling me. After the last time we found ourselves in this situation, it’s no wonder I look down at my boots. Looking for the trip line.
“Are you kidding?” I ask quietly as he lowers and studies the space before us.
“Being cautious.” He hums and rises to his feet. “We’re clear.”
I place my foot down and walk slowly through the penthouse, past a study on my right, the screens on the wall black. I come to a glass coffee table and gaze around. “There’s no one here,” I say over my shoulder, as I tread across the endless parquet flooring, my boots moving gently.
Danny moves up the stairs to the mezzanine and checks, and Otto goes out onto the terrace.
“Nothing,” they say in unison.
“So where the fuck have they gone?” I ask myself quietly, checking once more for signs of any life. There’s nothing. It looks like the place was finished and no one’s ever moved in.
36
BEAU
With my hands wrapped around the hot mug, I stare down into the coffee, still shocked, still blank, so I can only imagine how Rose is feeling. “What was Ollie doing there, Beau?” she asks, breaking the endless silence. “She said she was expecting someone. Him?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, looking up and around the backstreet café, flexing my stiff neck. “I used to come here with Nath.” I smile sadly. “Most of the time we sat on the pavement outside because”—I shrug—“well, you know.” It’s getting dark now, so all of the tables and chairs have been brought inside ready for closing. We’re the last in here.
Rose looks around. “It feels weird.”
“What does?”
She lifts her cup to her lips and has some tea. “Sitting in a café in public having a cup of tea. Just like any normal person would.” Rose’s phone rings and we both stare down at it on the table. “He’ll definitely have Otto installing a tracker on my phone now.”
I nod and pull the key from my pocket, placing it on the table. We both stare down at it.
“What do you think it’s for?” Rose asks.
I pick it up and inspect it. “It’s a safety deposit key.” It would have been an idea to ask Amber for more information on the key before she died, but . . . well, it didn’t quite pan out that way. I slip it back into my pocket and reach for my phone, turning it on, feeling Rose look at me. “Let’s go home,” I say, standing. “Before we kill them with stress.”
The smile of relief she gives me really does inflame the guilt. She stands and I link arms with her, leading her out to the car. “We’re toast, you know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know that.” I start the car. “But still safer with them, right?”
“You need to remove the right from that question.”
I nod, agreeing, starting the car and pulling out as Rose relaxes in her seat, taking her phone to her ear to call Danny and put him out of his misery. Her move spikes my own, and I do the same. Except I don’t get to dial James, something catching my eye in the rearview mirror.
Blue lights.
Then . . . a siren.
I let my phone slip from my hand, and I breathe in, holding my breath until my lungs are screaming as Rose looks back out of the window. “Oh fuck, Beau,” she whispers, as flashback after flashback assaults me. Nath. The cops who pulled us over. The gunshots.
My foot becomes heavy on the gas, our speed picking up. “Is your seatbelt on?” I ask.