again.â
Unfortunately, that was true.
âItâs already getting big,â he said. âAnd they donât even know yet that a head was cut off and that eyes were gouged out.â
âThatâll leak out,â she said.
âProbably,â he agreed.
âI havenât seen an agency yet that can keep that level of noise under wraps, including my own,â she said.
As soon as he hung up, Sydney called.
âWhere are you?â She sounded panicked. âYou said youâd be back in an hour.â
âEn route.â
âWell, hurry up, the press is here.â
23
DAY FOURâSEPTEMBER 8
THURSDAY EVENING
A spen was already in her pajamas when someone knocked at the door. Through the peephole she saw a stranger, a man about fifty wearing glasses. With hesitation, she opened the door as far as the chain would allow.
âThe firm needs you at a meeting, right now,â the man said. âI have a limousine waiting.â
âRight now?â
âYes.â
âHold on.â
She checked outside and saw a limousine in the parking lot.
âGive me ten minutes,â she said.
âIâll be in the car.â
She dressed and threw on a face while a feeling of nausea grew in her stomach. The two glasses of wine might be on her breath, so she gargled as long as she could with mouthwash.
Thirty minutes later she was at the firm, sitting in one of the conference rooms with Blake Gray, Jacqueline Moore, and another attorney she hadnât met before named Derek Bennett.
Jacqueline Moore took the lead in what appeared to be more of an interrogation than a meeting. âYouâre all over the news; you know that, right?â
The words shocked her.
âNo. What are you talking about?â
They powered up the flat-panel TV on the wall and played a videotape of the evening news for her. A detective by the name of Nick Teffinger wanted to talk to the woman in the photograph in connection with the case involving the four bodies found at the railroad spur. If anyone knew who the woman was, they should call the number at the bottom of the screen.
Shit.
She looked at everyone.
âI had no idea,â she said.
The looks on their faces indicated they didnât care.
âSo whatâs going on?â the woman asked.
Aspen put a confused look on her face. âI donât know.â
The woman slammed her hand on the table. âWe donât have time for bullshit!â
A pencil bounced, rolled, and fell to the floor.
âYouâre dragging the law firm into something negative and weâve struggled too hard and too long to get blindsided by something like this. So you can either tell us what this is all about or you can march down to your office right now and clean it out.â
In spite of herself, Aspen stood up. âWho in the hell do you think youâre talking to?â She walked to the door and then turned around. âAs far as the job goes, shove it up your ass. No one talks to me like that.â
âAspen! Wait a minute!â
The words came from Blake Gray, chasing her down the hall.
She was in no mood.
She opened the door to the stairwell and bounded down, taking two steps at a time, while he called for her to come back.
24
DAY FOURâSEPTEMBER 8
THURSDAY
W hen Draven got back to Denver, he parked a couple of blocks away from the apartment and then walked back through the field behind the building to see if any bikers were hanging around. Good thing, too. A few of the scumbags were milling in the parking lot and several more buzzed the neighborhood.
They better be careful.
The assholes.
They think theyâre all macho when theyâre in a pack. Get them alone, though, and they were nothing. In fact, he had half a mind to pick one of them off from the herd right now, just to show them who they were messing with.
Instead, he drove over to Avis, rented a van, and spent the next two hours driving