“No, it’s not. He’s your friend.”
“I’m fine.”
“Falco—”
“The apartment’s clear. We’re safe here, but we shouldn’t linger. They left him here like this to send a message, but it could also be a trap.”
“Who are they?”
Our eyes meet. As much as I want to voice my suspicion of her brother, it would destroy any trust or faith she has in me if I’m wrong. And if I’m right, she’ll blame herself for nearly spilling all that information back in the garage.
“I don’t know,” is my final answer. “Pidge was…he was doing everything he could to trace thosebastardsfrom the cabin.”
Aerin’s nodding like a bobble-head, fighting with herself to keep the tears at bay, but a couple escape down her cheeks. She hastily wipes them away. “Should we uh…should we cover him?”
“No. Don’t touch him.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“No it’s… If they’ve done something to his body, the slightest chance could trigger something.”
“Right. Right.”
Silence falls. Despite my best efforts, my eyes slide back to Pidge. Staring at him is like staring at an open flame. It hurts. It hurts in ways I can’t decipher because it all clashes like a storm cloud in my chest until I once again almost can’t breathe. I must have made a sound because Aerin’s hand slides back into mine and she pulls me close.
An hour later, Bullet and Rex stand in the living room with their faces dark like thunder. After Rex’s thorough inspection, we’ve covered his body with a blanket.
“This is a hit,” Bullet remarks.
“It wasn’t us,” says Rex. “You have to believe me.”
“Why should I?” I snap, gritting my teeth as I cross my arms tighter. “You didn’t always work for the Italians, did you?”
“No,” Rex replies, his eyes narrowing. “But I never hid the work I did for the Russians before I found my current employer.”
“Wait, you work for an Italian family?” Aerin asks from behind me, her hands wrapped around a mug of undrunk tea that was warm half an hour ago.
“A smaller family, but yes.”
“Do you?” Her eyes slide to Bullet.
“No. I’m like Pidge. Done with tyrannical masters.”
“And enough money to be free,” Rex snorts.
“Stop. None of this matters. What matters is that someone found Pidge and murdered him. And once he was dead, they shot him between the eyes so we’d know it was a hit.”
“Or it’s someone making it look like a hit to throw us off,” Rex interjects. “We have to consider all the possibilities.”
“But who would want to kill Pidge?” Aerin asks softly. “Doesn’t he excel at being a ghost?”
“He does…did,” Bullet says, his voice growing tight.
I can’t stop staring at his body, even as the others dissolve into discussion around me. Pidge had information, and whatever it was he found must have gotten him killed. There’s no other explanation.
“He contacted me,” I say, cutting through their conversation. “Yesterday he sent me a message basically telling me he had found something, but I couldn’t call him back right away. I got busy. I texted him I was free and he never texted back.”
“What do you think he found?” Rex turns to glance at Pidge’s covered body.
