Free Last Call by Sarah Ballance Page A

lose him. He was up for ADA after
the last one was killed."
    Nick cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Who was he
running against?"
    "Vincent Siegal."
    The silence that descended over them said
everything. A pretty, polished picture for the public, Vincent
Siegal was thickly rumored to have ties in illegal operations.
Problem was no amount of digging uncovered anything more
incriminating than an overdue library book. Even then, the bastard
had paid his ten cent fine and followed with a two-thousand dollar
donation. The man was as beloved as he was crooked. But at some
point, the circumstantial evidence had to amount to something.
Everyone who dared butt heads with him ended up dead, and that was
enough to sway her opinion, if not provide proof.
    Nick still hadn't said a word.
    Rhys stared through the window at the passing
landscape for a moment before remembering her own circumstances.
Then she returned her attention to the computer and found the local
news story on her death. She was in luck — it came with video.
"They didn't waste any time on this, did they?"
    "Had you really died, your body wouldn't have
been cold," he said.
    Rhys started the video. Watching her own death
play out on the local news didn't sit well with her, nor did she
learn anything useful. She sighed.
    "Who had the honors of the announcement?" Nick
asked.
    "I didn't recognize him." She played the video
again. "It's been a while since I've been around. Could be a new
hire."
    "Press conferences usually come from the
command staff. Check the department website — maybe someone keeps
it updated."
    Of course. Rhys found the web page and scanned the photos, all lined up
in neat little rows. "Only one new face, but no resemblance to
press conference guy."
    "Figures." He tapped the steering wheel and
blew out a breath. "Let's think about this mess. First, the man who
shot you at point blank range missed. And he's a pro? That doesn't
add up."
    Although true, the sentiment chilled over her.
"No silencer, either."
    "Yeah. Definitely an amateur." He shook his
head. "Then we have Vincent Siegal's adversary for ADA murdered.
Vincent and murder, as far as I'm concerned, is never a
coincidence."
    "So Siegal put a hit on Woodson?"
    "It's a thought. But if he's behind that, why
the fake witness protection?"
    "I saw the hit. That puts me on the list of
people Siegal considers a threat who mysteriously wind up
dead."
    "You've got that right. No way Siegal would
leave a connection lying around. Do you remember either of the
shooters? Anything?"
    "Nothing I haven't told you. The familiar
voice and the reference to T."
    "You remembered Woodson. It'll come to
you."
    Rhys frowned. It might. But that was the
problem.
    That was the reason someone wanted her
dead.

Chapter Eight
     
    Vincent Siegal pounded his desk, sending
whiskey sloshing from its glass. His grip on the phone turned
deadly. "What do you mean your men lost them?"
    "I told you I'd take care of it," the caller
growled. "I'm just providing an update. It's not the end of the
game. They ran into trouble in the hotel room is all."
    "You can keep your frilly fucking updates
until you have them in custody. Don't waste my time with anything
less. If that has-been detective bitch goes public with what she
saw—"
    "What she saw didn't have your name on it.
Relax."
    "I'll relax when I damn well want to relax!"
Vincent bellowed. He'd fought too long keeping his reputation on
the up-and-up to be brought down by a bunch of morons. First, one
of his best men failed to use a silencer and now he had to put
faith in a bumbling idiot to bring in the woman. But keeping his
distance meant taking chances, and there was no greater risk than
being caught with Elliot Woodson's blood on his hands.
    Besides, the man on the phone owed Vincent.
Owed him big. "I should have killed you a long time ago," Vincent
said.
    The caller scoffed. "Yeah, well, hindsight's a
bitch."
    Vincent reached for his whiskey snifter. After
a moment of dull silence, he