Page 72 of No Lies No Promises

Pearson sneers, dropping the veneer. “I offered him a way to make money, and he bit… You’re a lot like him, you know. He craves big bucks. You go after criminals. Neither gives a fuck who’s hurt along the way.”

Is he right? Have I put my loved ones at risk?

Chapter 37

Lillian

Interrogation over for now, Mace runs off to find spook-proof plastic ties. While we wait, Dante removes his knee from Pearson’s back.

When he stands back, I keep my Beretta aimed at the spook’s head. Try to escape, you bastard. I dare you.

The prisoner rolls to a seated position. “I upheld my part of the bargain, Dante. Release me.”

Dusting off his slacks, my boss shakes his head. “Not until we stage your death. After, we’ll put you on a plane.”

I have a better idea. “How about we lash him to a cement block, drop him in the Long Island Sound?”

Keeping his eyes on the dangerous man, Dante leans against what remains of the speakeasy’s bar. “Don’t worry. Our friend here will end up dead, with or without our help.”

Once he’s tied up again, and we’re out of earshot, I ask, “What’s going to happen to him now? Does he get to go free?”

Dante chuckles. “Fitzpatrick’s men are on their way. He’s not going anywhere.”

“And Sean’s father?”

“I handed off what we know to a friend at the DA. They’ll take it from here. He’ll probably do some time at a white-collar prison, but not until the lawyers duke it out.”

“Better than he deserves.” Sean nods. “But at least he’ll be too busy to harass my grandmother.”

After walking through the tunnel, my partner and I take the elevator to our temporary apartment.

“Make-up sex?” I shoot him a flirtatious smile, but Sean’s scowl shuts me down.

“How about we focus on finding your father?” His curt tone hurts. Are we fighting, or did Jeff’s comment mess up his head? Whatever. I’ll give him some space to figure it out.

Ignoring each other, we sit in front of our laptops, sifting through offshore accounts, lawyers, and companies buried deep under layers of LLCs.

As day turns into night, we manage to share gold nuggets as well as failed leads. These threads take us to Bulgaria, Hungary, Belarus, and finally to South America. Somewhere, there must be a link to my father, a way to pinpoint his location. Law enforcement may have given up, but not me. I’m going to live a normal life. To do that, Liam Boyle must die.

When my eyelids droop, I lean over the table so I can rest my head in my arms. A couple of hours of shuteye is all I need. Then I’ll go back to work.

The next thing I know, I’m in Mexico. Jeff is tied up in my father’s garage. While I tiptoe closer, he morphs into Sean. Bloody, face bruised almost beyond recognition, he shouts, “This is all your fault.”

Zombie-like, he rises. My bullets don’t stop his approach, so I run, jumping into a flying sidekick.

The scene changes. Now, I’m riding behind my Living-Dead boyfriend on a motorbike. Drones hover overhead. They light up the sky, then crash into the road, leaving giant potholes.

One of the flying bots lands so close, we’re thrown off our ride. Dogs appear from nowhere, tearing at our flesh. Head all bloody, Sean doesn’t move.

“Wake up, dammit.” I sob. “I can’t lose you now.”

Crying, screaming, kicking, I claw at the vicious canines, but they keep coming. More and more and more….

“Lillian.” Sean’s disembodied voice cuts through the chaos.

Is this heaven? Hell? Did those hounds kill me?

“Lil.” Strong fingers grip my shoulder, shaking me awake. “Babe, it’s me. Open your eyes.”