“Talk to you then,” Blayne replied. With that, Kira turned and headed into the Dream Bean. When the door closed, Blayne turned back to gape at the woman. “I take it you know your Brontë literature?”
“I was an English Lit major in college. Well, I double majored in that with Gender and Sexuality Studies.”
“Deadly and educated,” Blayne said as he absently stirred the stick in his coffee before taking a drink. “I guess we better get out of here before we run into anyone else?”
“I take it you trust me?”
“Not at all,” Blayne admitted. “But I don’t think you intend Dr. Hennigan harm, and it’s not like you haven’t figured out I know where she is, so there’s no point in delaying the inevitable, is there?”
They grabbed their coffees, stood, pushed in their chairs and left the Dream Bean.
Chapter Ten
Ethan
Ethan sat on the couch, half watching the news and half watching Dr. Hennigan seated on the other end. She was in remarkably good shape, considering she just had a bullet removed from her.
“When is your boyfriend supposed to get back?” Dr. Hennigan asked.
“Anytime now,” Ethan said. He glanced down at his watch. “Actually, he’s a bit later than normal.” He turned and looked at Dr. Hennigan. “Don’t worry. That means nothing. Students regularly question him, so he’s often forty-five minutes to an hour past when he’ssupposedto get home.”
“Good afternoon, America. This is Tika Downs. We’re broadcasting live from the Real Time News Network’s Main Studio in New Orleans. This evening has several brilliant shows being brought to you worldwide via the RTN Network. A complete listing of all shows can be found on our website at www.rtn.media.” She twisted herself on the swivel stool to look into a different camera. “Our top news story this afternoon is the terrorist attack last night in Houston, Texas.” A screen appeared over Tika’s left shoulder with an image of the arena. “For the latest updates on this unfolding tragedy, we turn to Stephen McNeil, who is on the ground in Houston.” The picture of a redheaded reporter with a close-cropped beard filled the station. From Ethan’s vantage point, the guy looked like a slick used car salesman. “Stephen, what is the latest from Houston?”
“Thank you, Tika. The tragedy last night caught the attention of all Houstonians and Americans. Last night’s terrorist attack was just the latest setback in the boy-band ZERO’s North American tour, which has been riddled with problems from the explosion of Peregrine Flight 923, the plane the band was supposed to be flying, to the attempted assassination of one of its members, Ethan Bond. People are already questioning the safety of attending their concerts.”
A few interviews with witnesses from the night before filled the screen. McNeil had clearly coached the interviewees into saying they were scared and wouldn’t be attending ZERO’s concerts any time in the future, even though most of the people McNeil interviewed weren’t even in the right demographic for one of their concerts.
“As of right now, the FBI and ATF have yet to release a statement to the press,” McNeil continued. “In an exclusive video obtained by RTN, we can show the RTN viewers the devastating moments. The video we’re about to show is unsuitable for audience members of all ages, so viewer discretion is advised.”
The TV studio hadn’t even waited for a heartbeat to pass before the video played. Ethan watched in horror as the events from last night played out again. It was a different vantage point from the one he had on stage, but the events didn’t change. The glass shattering was still followed by the man flying out of the window. From this angle, it was clear that someone inside the room had helped the man. Someone in all black had run toward the man and shoved him out.
“Well, now we know how that happened,” Ethan mumbled.
“You didn’t think the man leaped, did you?” Hennigan asked, the corner of her lip curling upward in a smirk. She grabbed the remote and muted the television as the rest of the segment played on.
“Of course, I didn’t. I’m not an idiot. But it’s one thing to realize someone threw him out of the room and another to see it happen.”
“I’m more curious about the person who shot the video,” Hennigan said. “How was this person’s cell phone recording that window when it shattered?”
“Coincidence?” Ethan said, but his voice clarified that he didn’t even believe that.
“I don’t believe in coincidences. I’ll have Ms. Wils…” Her voice trailed off.
Ethan turned his head fully to stare at Dr. Hennigan. She gave him a sideways glance and rolled her eyes. Ethan noticed the moment she told him what she was thinking. “An associate of mine has been out of contact since the incident. She’s my go-to for research and when I need eyes in the sky. I don’t know what’s happening there, but something is wrong. I don’t enjoy being out-of-pocket like this.”
“Maybe she’s busy?” Ethan suggested.
“No. It doesn’t work like that.” She paused momentarily, clearly trying to figure out how to phrase what she would say next. “She’s my person. I don’t want to say she’s at my beck and call, but she’s always available when I need her. And I lost touch with her last night when things went sideways. I’m worried.”
“Honey, I’m home,” Blayne called from the front door. “And I brought a guest.”
As Blayne walked in, Hennigan immediately reached for her gun and leveled it at the entryway. His hands were up. Ethan could tell someone was behind him, but he couldn’t see who the person was since Blayne blocked the view.
“Lower your weapon,” Hennigan said.
“You first,” a woman’s voice echoed.
“Denzili?”
