Sliding onto the bench near Byron’s feet, he watched her until the driver shut the doors.
CHAPTER TWENTY
RENFRO WARNER WAS dead.
The relief was so great, Emma nearly fell to her knees. She’d been terrified for Jason when the bullets started flying, and the post-adrenaline letdown left her shaky and a little sick to her stomach.
Her chest constricted as the ambulance drove away with Jason inside. He’d looked haggard and angry and worried, and she’d wanted to pull him close, try to ease his pain, maybe take a little comfort for herself.
“Stay here,” the police officer said in German, turning away in a huff to speak into her radio.
Sirens screamed across the canyon of buildings as the ambulance disappeared down the street. Around Emma, dozens of first responders were on scene. They’d created a perimeter around the area and started organizing witnesses into groups to wait to be interviewed.
The melee summoned memories of yesterday’s scene with Viktor at the Dying Lion, and Natalie at the condo, and she was suddenly very, very tired.
Renfro was gone. His money had been diverted—even faster than she’d expected—which may have triggered his attack on Byron. There were still potential threats and many loose ends to wrap up, but Renfro’s associates were more apt to scatter like cockroaches than to draw attention to themselves. Her team would ferret out as many as possible.
Later. But soon.
Across the street, Todd sat sideways in the backseat of an unmarked car, his feet on the asphalt. A wiry white man with a gray buzz cut stood looking down at him, a badge clipped to his belt. She strode over, her eyes darting around the crowd, on the lookout for anyone suspicious.
As she approached the car, the plainclothes officer looked up with a frown. “Ma’am, please—”
“Jason wants a team on Mallory and Ava Chin,” she said to Todd, while giving the other man an apologetic look.
“Right,” Todd said. “I’ll put in a call.” He looked up at the detective. “Excuse me for a minute?” Not waiting for an answer, he started dialing.
The Swiss officer looked exasperated, but didn’t force the issue. He must have already decided that Todd wasn’t one of the bad guys here. Then again, she had no idea how deep into the local government Warner’s influence went. She and Todd would have to tread carefully.
“I have two friends investigating in Hardy Beach,” she told Todd. “I’ll ask them to keep watch until your people show up.”
He nodded, looking surprised and relieved. “It’ll take a couple hours to— Hey, it’s Todd,” he said into his phone, his gaze drifting to the scene behind her. “I’m still in Lucerne, but we have a situation.”
While he relayed the details to whoever he’d called, Emma used her own phone to put in a call to Gretchen, asking her to shift Hailey and Ash from investigating Warner to protecting Byron’s family. “Jason’s going to call Mallory with the news about Byron, and have her hunker down.”
As soon as she knew that her teammates and Jason’s were on the case, Emma slumped against the officer’s Mercedes and rubbed her damp palms on her pants, feeling suddenly lightheaded.
“Hey.” Todd popped up and guided her to perch on the back seat, crouching in front of her. “Slow, deep breaths.” He glanced at the policeman. “Can we get some water over here?”
A paramedic jogged over with a bottle of water and crouched in front of her, placing two fingers on her wrist as he peppered her with questions.
Hours later, she sat inside the police station where Todd, Michael, and Finn were being held for questioning, after having their weapons taken as evidence. She had no doubt they’d brought them into the country legally, but few places took kindly to foreigners discharging guns on their soil. Especially when someone died. Even more so when that man was wealthy and powerful.
Emma had already been released. Between her testimony and that of all the witnesses, she expected Jason’s teammates would be as well. But one never knew what might happen to a foreign citizen, even in Europe.
Because their fingerprints would be all over the crime scene, she’d had to reveal that she and Jason were with Natalie in the condo before she died, and that they’d left out of fear for their lives if more of Renfro’s men showed up. Her and Nat’s cover as freelance journalists working for the Free Press Project seemed to hold up to scrutiny.
As it should. They’d spent years cultivating it, supplying enough articles to newspapers and magazines over the years to maintain credibility. What she did wasn’t all that different from a legitimate investigative journalist. The difference had more to do with their motives, methods, and funding. And the fact that they handed off the big stories to other reporters.
Ashley and Hailey worked under a different legend, revealing themselves as private investigators only when someone got suspicious. Again, very close to the truth, and separated from typical PIs in a similar way as Emma was from journalists. Part of Nolan’s job was to manufacture clients and funnel the money to make everything appear above board.
All to protect them from the people whose contemptible activities they exposed. This was the first time any of them had needed it. The first time things had gone so wrong.
The first time any of the Herons had been directly threatened with violence, let alone killed.
God,Natalie. Guilt burned through Emma’s gut.I’m so sorry.She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to cry here, alone in this sterile lobby.
The detective interviewing her hadn’t been pleased that she and Jason had left the scene of the crime, but she’d also seemed relieved to have a lead on what had happened there. Knowing Nat’s death was linked to Viktor and Renfro made the investigator’s job easier.
