Viv’s eyes filled. A single tear slid down her cheek, cutting through the grime. “I’m sorry about this, Laurel. This is my fault.”
“This isn’t your fault,” she said tightly. “I didn’t know Abigail’s lawyer was a war criminal in a leather jacket.”
Abigail leaned forward to look past her. “But you got in that trunk because of the girl.” Her eyes locked on Viv. “It is your fault we’re here.”
Laurel shoved her back, hard enough to snap Abigail’s head around. “Shut up. I’m done with this.”
Bertra’s voice cut across the tension. “All of you, shut up.”
Viv sniffed. “This is because I snooped, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”
Bertra focused on her. “I knew who you were the second I hired you. We sought you out, remember?”
Laurel frowned. “You hired her because of me?”
Abigail chuckled. “You’re smarter than you look, Bertra.” She shrugged. “Bertra knew I had information and would use it if necessary, so she looked for any leverage. I’m tied to you, Laurel, and you’re tied to Viv.” Her chin lowered. “But you really didn’t need to have a sniper aim at me.”
“I wish he’d killed you,” Bertra snapped. “Henry? Lock them in the storage closet. We’ll spray the canister under the door.”
Vexler adjusted his stance and raised the gun—aiming it directly at Viv’s face. “Everybody get up and move.”
“No,” Abigail said.
He cocked his head. “I’ll just shoot you.”
She exhaled. “Good point.” She stood and yanked Kohnex to his feet. Laurel followed suit, pulling Viv up and shielding her with her body.
“This way,” Vexler said, gesturing with the gun. “I’m tired of you people. I wish we could skip to the end.”
“The canister will be ready in just a few minutes,” Bertra added, her voice too casual. “We can perform a quick experiment on them, film it, and send it off to the bidders. Then hit them hard tomorrow with the church carnage.”
Laurel kept her body between them and the girl as they walked down the sterile hallway. Every second bought was worth it. “Why did you kill Dr. Sandoval?”
Bertra shrugged. “He was sleeping with Melissa Palmtree. She’s the one who told Tyler Griggs about our plans.”
“And?”
“She was in until she heard how many people were going to die. Then she tried to back out and gave that moronic Tyler Griggs evidence of our trials and upcoming plans. So we slipped a canister into her car, and it went off before she headed into that bar to speak with him. We got to him the next day. Took him out to the forest to watch, and he jumped off a cliff.”
Poor Tyler. “So Dr. Sandoval was killed—why?” Laurel asked.
Bertra glanced at her watch. “He was acting off. Paranoid. Pissed off that we ended Melissa. I was concerned that he’d turn into a whistleblower. So, when you visited the lab, and everyone seemed to think you were the target for the first sniper attack, it made sense for Vexler to shoot him through the window. You still thought you were the target.”
Abigail looked at Vexler. “You’re one for four. You suck as a sniper.”
Laurel elbowed her hard. “Would you shut up?”
Abigail rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
Laurel tried to attach the dots. “Why send Mark Bitterson in his black truck to shoot at us?”
“Agent Smudgeon. We figured Tyler might’ve gotten word to him, so we had to take a risk.” Bertra snorted. “Then we had to kill Bitterson, that moron. He was illegally harvesting the yew trees for us, as you probably know. He’d pass the pickup information to Melissa Palmtree through the good Detective Robertson, and she’d send money back to Bitterson the same way.”
Viv whimpered but kept moving.
“What about Larry Scott?” Laurel asked, trying to find a way out of this mess.
Bertra’s lip rose in contempt. “He was a tech who got too nosy. Fitz killed him and staged the suicide.”
