phone away from her, he put it back in the cradle and dropped her arm. But he didn’t step away.
She rubbed her wrist. “I want to see some ID.”
“We don’t have time for a dog and pony show. I have to get you out of here.”
“Get me out of here… What on earth are you talking about?” She started shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you—”
He reached inside the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a leather wallet and flipped it open, handing it to her. She studied the card and the authentic-looking seal, comparing the photo to his face. The documentation meant nothing, but he carried it for people like her, people who kept their wits about them when he showed up. The Agency he worked for didn’t hand out IDs or have a fancy office. It didn’t even exist—at least not in a way that meant anything to others.
Looking unconvinced, she returned the credentials. “Where’s my family? What have you done to them?”
The lie tasted bad and he cursed himself for what he was about to do. The girl’s future held nothing but trouble, thanks to him. Along with confusion and anger. Grief and loneliness. He told himself again he didn’t have a choice, but that knowledge didn’t make the task any easier.
Plan your work and work your plan… His da would of been proud of him, he thought bitterly. Never give up, never say die. The old man had been full of useless clichés and he’d drilled every one of them into his sons—usually with a hard fist for punctuation—thinking they’d bring them the success that had always eluded him. His theory hadn’t worked.
The girl made a sound of distress, breaking his thoughts.
“Relax,” he said. “I haven’t done anything to them and I’m not going to do anything to you, either. If I’d wanted to, I would have done it by now.”
She moved back a step, away from him as much as possible, her eyes wary, her body still poised to flee. “Where are they?”
“There’s been a problem.”
Her expression shifted. “Are they okay? What’s happened? Where are—”
He interrupted her. “Your father saw something he shouldn’t have this morning. He saw someone get killed. And the murderer saw your father…”
“A murder… Oh my God!” She lifted her fingers to her neck. At the base of her throat, a slim gold chain glistened. His eyes went to the tiny heart it held. All at once, in spite of her bravado, she seemed too vulnerable to Gabriel, too defenseless to handle what was coming next. “But Dad’s okay, right? My family’s—”
Before she could finish her sentence, she halfway turned to the door, then stopped in confusion and looked at him again, her eyes filled with worry. Cold had seeped into the house since he’d cut off the power and her words came out in quick bursts of vapor. “I should go to the police station. That’s where they are, isn’t it? I’d better—”
“No.” Seeing his expression, finally sensing something, she stood still, his one-word answer hanging in the chilly living room between them.
He pointed to the couch. “Sit down.”
Surprising him, she followed his command.
“You can’t see them.” He held her eyes in the darkness, his words slicing through the moment with the sharpness of a razor held to a throat. “They’re dead.” He waited a second. “They’re gone. All of them.”
She blinked against the pronouncement, her expression a study of misunderstanding. “I don’t…” She shook her head slightly, her hair gleaming against the chenille upholstery of the sofa. She licked her lips and started over. “What do you mean, they’re ‘gone’? They can’t just be ‘gone.’ They have to be somewhere—”
Gabriel wasn’t sure why he moved to take her hand, but he did. Sitting down beside her, he reached out. Whatever his reason had been, though, it didn’t matter. She snatched her fingers away before he could touch her. He spoke quietly. “The shooter killed them.”
Unable to speak, she shook her head again, her fingers now spread across her open mouth.
“He couldn’t leave anyone who might testify against him later.”
“But Toby…Mother…”
“They were waiting for your father and saw what happened. The killer saw them, too.”
Her eyes deepened to a darker color, denial her only defense. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head again. “No. This…this can’t be happening. I—I don’t believe you…”
Reaching inside the pocket of his jacket, Gabriel pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the flap.
A moment later, she looked up from the wedding bands, her eyes so similar to her father’s, they threw Gabriel for a moment. “Th-this doesn’t prove anything. Y-you could have stolen them, for all I know.”
“I didn’t steal the rings. I had them with me because I was going to mail them to you later.” He paused. “I assumed your mother would have wanted you to have them.”
The girl’s reaction was a living thing; it sucked the air from the room and then from him. Gabriel fought the sensation and overcame it, but not without a struggle, which surprised him. He puzzled for a moment over why. Maybe it was the way she looked or maybe her youth. Either way, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.
“We have to leave.” He glanced at his watch then stood. Looking down at her, he came as close to the truth as he had all night. “The man your father saw—he’s associated with some very bad people. If they figure out you exist, they’re going to come after you, too. They won’t quit until they find you, and after they’ve used you up, they’ll kill you. If I can get you out of Los Lobos quickly enough and under some kind of protection, that might not happen.” He paused. “Emphasis on ‘might.’”
Alexis stared at him, her gaze so pointed it made him uneasy. “That doesn’t make sense. If my family was killed because they witnessed a murder, why would the killer—or anyone associated with him—come after me? I didn’t see anything.”
Gabriel wasn’t surprised she could analyze the situation while mired in grief. Robert had told him the truth.
“It doesn’t make sense,” she insisted.
“Of course it doesn’t make sense.” Gabriel made his voice harsh. “Do you think the baby could identify him?” He didn’t wait for her reply because he wasn’t going to get one—he’d shocked her, and that was exactly why he’d spoken as he had. “This man is a killer. He enjoys it. The people he surrounds himself with enjoy it, too. Killing is entertainment for them.”
Devastated by his words, she sat on the sofa, stunned and silent. The expression on her face made Gabriel feel ill but he ignored the sensation. “If you hadn’t shown up, this might not have been a problem, but you did, so now we have to deal with it. That’s why I’m here.”
Without waiting for her to reply, Gabriel moved toward the window. A car moved slowly down the street. Relatives looking for a holiday gathering or something
