Exposure

Lorraine gave him a look. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve been acting strange since you woke up.”

Martin’s eyes flicked to the kitchen wall clock. Nine minutes. “I was held up at gunpoint last night, in case you forgot.”

Her face softened. “Of course I didn’t forget, honey.” Lorraine followed his glance to the clock, then refocused on him, puzzled.

He stared at her. “Why don’t you go get dressed?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Well, work faster.”

She cocked her head. “Okay, what’s going on. Who was on the phone?”

“Just get dressed. Please. You and Tammy need to leave.”

“Tammy’s still in bed, sick again. She’s not going anywhere today.”

Martin felt the blood drain from his face. “You have to take her.”

“Why?”

“Because . . . because she’s missing too many days.”

“But she’s sick.”

Panic ballooned in Martin’s chest. “She’ll feel better. Just take her!”

“Martin, what is wrong with you?”

He looked at her, helpless, a dozen lies trailing through his head. His wife was too smart and independent. She wasn’t going to just let him push her out the door.

“Please, Lorraine, just trust me.” He looked at the clock. Seven minutes. “I need you out of here.”

She drew herself up, her expression firming. Defiance shone in her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I — I can’t.”

“Why? ”

“Because it’s . . .” He thrust a hand into his hair. A hundred thousand dollars. For Tammy. For them. In six minutes they were going to lose a hundred thousand dollars. “Please, Lorraine, just go.”

Her jaw flexed. “No.”

In seconds Martin closed the gap between them. He pushed his face in hers. “Get out of here. Now.”

She glared back. “I told you — I’m not taking Tammy out today.”

“You have to!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Lorraine — ” He swung away, head swiveling left and right. His brain could hardly focus. “Where are your car keys?”

“Martin, I’m not — ”

He grabbed her arms. “Where are your car keys?”

“Get off me!” She flung him away. The hairbrush fell to the floor.

“Mommy!” Tammy’s voice cut through Martin’s senses. He jerked his head toward the hallway. She stood outside her door, teddy bear trailing in her hand.

“Tammy, go back to bed!” he snapped. Instant tears welled in her eyes.

“Don’t you yell at her.” Lorraine turned and bent down, putting her hands on her knees. “Tammy, honey, go back to bed.”

“But Daddy’s — ”

Lorraine scooted down the hall toward her. “Go on now. I’ll be with you in a sec.” She nudged Tammy back into her room.

Martin’s eyes raked to the clock. Less than five minutes. He slapped both hands to his head. Too late, this wouldn’t work. He’d go outside, wait for Nico in the parking lot —

And watch the man drive right on by. One thing Nico had insisted on from day one: follow instructions perfectly or all bets are off.

Surely Nico would come back and hand him the money later. He’d have to pay up or Martin might give him over to the cops.

Right, and give himself up in the process? Nico knew he wouldn’t do that. Besides, if he did, he wouldn’t live to see nightfall. And what about Lorraine and Tammy?

“Don’t cross me, Martin. ” If he didn’t do this right, they could all be killed.

Lorraine closed Tammy’s door and stalked back to him, arms folded. “You better talk to me.”

Martin’s wild gaze fell to the kitchen table by the window — and Lorraine’s purse. He yanked it up and thrust it into her arms, crazy words spilling from his mouth. “Listen to me. Grab Tammy and drive away from here right now. Stay gone for half an hour. A man’s coming over, and if he finds you here we’re going to lose a lot of money. Go!”

She gawked at him. “What money?”

“Leave.” Martin pushed her hard. Lorraine stumbled sideways two steps, shock creasing her forehead, then righted herself. She twisted back to stare at Martin.

“Is this about the bank robbery?”

Martin felt his face crumble. “Please, Lorraine.”

Her eyes widened. “It isn’t, right? Tell me it isn’t.”

“It isn’t.”

“Then why don’t I believe you?”

He licked his lips. “I . . . I just want Tammy to get well.”

Lorraine processed the words. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, as if afraid to hear what was coming next. “I want her to get well too, Martin.”

Desperation flooded his veins. “Lorraine, go. This man’s part of the mob. If he finds you here, he’ll kill us all.”

“The mob? As in Mafia?” Color drained from Lorraine’s cheeks. Martin could read her thoughts. The Mafia were in movies, not real life. Not their life. “What have you done?”

“Just get Tammy out of here!”

Mouth open, she ogled Martin, fear and confusion wrenching her expression. He knew she’d never leave him alone in trouble. But the thought of Tammy being hurt . . .

She snatched up Tammy’s hairbrush and ran down the hall.

Martin dropped his head in his hands. A second . . . two ticked by. He was going to explode. Suddenly he remembered Nico’s instruction about the door. He hurried over and unlocked it.

From outside drifted the sound of a car. Heart in his throat, Martin jumped to a window and peered through the curtains.

Nico had arrived.

SIXTEEN

At the sight of the horrific picture, Kaycee rocked back in her chair. The coffee mug smacked against her mouth, sloshing hot liquid across her lips. “Aah!” She dropped the mug and shoved her rolling chair away from the desk. The mug landed with a crack, spewing coffee on the hardwood floor.

Robotlike, she bent over and righted it.

Kaycee stared at the monitor, lips throbbing.

Same dead man. But this shot wasn’t a close-up. It showed the body down to the chest, the man’s arms