With a soft grunt, he rolled onto his side, away from her.Perfect.
Slowly, she inched to the end of the bed.Careful not to tug the sheets and comforter, she slinked onto the floor.On her knees, she held her breath, waiting.
Would he stir?Should she go to the bathroom and pretend she had to pee?Biting her bottom lip, she lingered to see if Fink would call for her.
When he didn’t, she crawled out of the room and dipped into the bathroom.
Using the toilet wasn’t a bad idea after all.
With her business done, she stood at the sink, washing her hands.Her reflection caught her attention.The reason she knew Fink had killed someone without her was because he’d donned his clown makeup.
Her gaze drifted to the bag of face paints on the counter.
Should she do the same?
Getting gussied up would take time.Did she have it?How long would it be before he noticed she was gone?
The small pots and brushes taunted her from within their canvas container.
Turning off the faucet, she blew out a breath.Quick.Hers wasn’t as complicated as his.She could spare a few minutes, but she’d do it in the car.
Fink
The wind whipped against Fink’s frame.He clutched the thin fabric of his suit jacket tighter against him.Thankful for his gloves, lest his hands be frozen icicles, he continued down the docks, searching.
For what?
He hadn’t a clue.
The only thought that repeated in his mind was how cold he was.
Hopefully, he’d find whatever it was sooner rather than later.He wanted to get the job done and go home to Sydney.
Sydney.
Where was she?Shouldn’t she be here with him?They were a team.Murder fuck buddies and all that.
Turning, he scanned the dark, empty boardwalks and found nothing.Not a soul crossed his path.
Where had she gone?
“Sydney?”he hollered into the darkness.
It didn’t even echo back to him.
Where was he, anyway?This wasn’t the shipyard where they’d taken care of Burke.This was much smaller.Pleasure yachts were tied off in the slips.A few recreational fishing boats.Not a single commercial vessel in sight.
Why was he there?
“Sydney?”he called again, his heart picking up speed.
She shouldn’t have gotten away from him.They were safer together.She knew that.Splitting up was always a bad idea.Hadn’t she watched any suspense movies?Safety was in numbers.Even if their number was two.
As he trudged alone, shivering in the cold, he happened upon a small white sailboat.
It seemed out of place, but Fink couldn’t discern why.
Scanning it, he noted it had no registration numbers on it.However, it did have a name painted in elegant script along the back.
