“Why should I believe that?”
“I can’t give you any convincing evidence,” he replied, “other than the truth that your life depends on it.”
She tightened her lips at him, as if trying to reconcile this with the faith she had in her idol, and then looked back at the party. More guests had arrived now.
“What do you want me to do?” she finally murmured.
“Leave with me.”
She blinked at him. “What? When?”
“As soon as you can slip away.”
“You mean—now?” She looked around helplessly. “I can’t.” She swallowed again and pulled back on his arm. “My guests.”
Now she truly looked like she might fly into a frantic state. Winter’s mind whirled, trying to figure out what to do if she were to have a breakdown here. How would he explain it? How would he get them out of here?
“I know. But we don’t have a choice.”
“There—there are a thousand dignitaries and elite here from all over the world. Connor will expect to see me the instant he arrives.” Her speech quickened, breathless with fear, and suddenly Winter realized she might be in danger from the accountant. “He’ll be here any moment. We won’t make it halfway to the airport before he realizes I’m gone.”
He couldn’t let Connor lead Penelope somewhere after her toast.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said to her. “We’ll both make our appearance in front of your cake, so you can say a few words. Just for an hour. Can you do that?”
She nodded numbly.
“Good. Make our appearance, put the crowd’s minds at ease, and then leave as everyone mingles. They won’t notice you’re gone after you’ve already said your piece.”
Penelope stopped walking. There was a lost expression on her face that felt familiar to him, the loneliness of being used to bearing things on her own, and he found himself feeling afraid, wondering if he could really keep her safe, if he and Sydney could pull all of this off.
Then she straightened, forcing herself to lift her chin. He could still see the gloss in her eyes. But when she spoke, her voice stayed steady enough to disguise her emotions.
“Come with me,” she said without looking at him. “I need to greet some people.”
He nodded and followed in her wake. As he did, he typed out a quick message to Sydney.
She’ll leave with us.
He stared at his phone for a few seconds, hoping to see a reply.
Nothing. He put his phone away reluctantly, then went with Penelope to greet her first guest. In the back of his mind, he kept waiting for the reassuring buzz of Sydney’s answer. She always responded.
But this time, she didn’t.
28
Bullseye
It wasn’t until the sun had moved overhead and the shadows in the garden disappeared that Winter finally got a response from Sydney.
His phone buzzed right as Penelope cut into her cake, that trained smile still plastered on her face. As the audience around her in the pavilion cheered and flashes went off, Winter took a subtle step back from the crowd and looked at the message that had popped up for him.
Where are you?
Overwhelming relief. That was Winter’s first reaction. The message had clearly been sent from Sydney’s phone, and he knew she must still be transmitting from inside the museum. Her tracker said as much.
His second reaction was confusion. Sydney should be able to see the tracker he’d left behind, still broadcasting from the living room of the house. She should think he was there.
