"Who?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out." A pause. "We're looking for Webb. So far, nothing. No hospital records. No credit card activity. No movement on any of his accounts. If he's alive, he's hiding. If he's dead, someone made him disappear."
I close my eyes. The pain medication is starting to work. The edges of everything going soft.
"This wasn't random," I say. "Webb knew I was coming."
"I know."
"Someone tipped him off."
"I know that too." Lorenzo's voice is quiet. Deadly. "And when I find out who, they're going to wish they'd never been born."
I believe him.
"What do you need from me?" I ask.
"Right now? Nothing. You stay where you are. You heal. You don't do anything stupid."
"Lorenzo—"
"I mean it, Dante." His tone brooks no argument. "You almost died. The doctor said if you'd lost another pint of blood, you wouldn't have made it. So you're going to lie in that bed and let Marina take care of you until I say otherwise."
Marina's name on his lips makes something twist in my chest.
"She didn't sign up for this," I say.
"We'll talk more when you're stronger," Lorenzo says. "For now, rest. And Dante?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time you get shot, you call me first. Not after. Not when you're already dying on some woman's doorstep. First."
The line goes dead.
I let the phone drop onto the mattress beside me.
Someone cleaned Webb's office.
The pain medication pulls at me. Drags me toward sleep.
But my mind won't stop turning.
Webb was a tech entrepreneur. Small time. He shouldn't have had the resources to set up an ambush. Shouldn't have had connections to make a crime scene vanish.
Unless he wasn't working alone.
Unless someone bigger was pulling his strings.
I stare at the ceiling until the drugs finally win.
Marina
I stand at the stove, stirring a pot of soup that I made from scratch. Dr. Marchetti's instructions echo in my head. Clear liquids for the first twenty-four hours. Then soft foods. Nothing heavy. Nothing that will strain his digestive system while his body fights to heal.
I found a recipe online. Something simple. Chicken, carrots, celery, a handful of herbs. The kind of thing my mother used to make when I was sick as a kid.
I don't know why I'm trying so hard.
