She has no plans to be left out of the loop, however. As soon as we reach the car and I’ve buckled her into the passenger seat, circled around the front bumper and climbed into the driver’s side, she starts peppering me with questions. Answering them comes naturally, I’m surprised to find. No barriers left with this woman. They’re all down.
“What’s going on? What did he say?”
“Evergreen Corp. is registered to the mayor. Rhonda Robinson.”
“What?” She huffs a stunned breath at the dashboard. “I did not see that coming. She owns vacation rentals and yet she’s leading the charge against them? What sense does that make?” There’s a long pause while the rest falls into place. Clues knitting together for her the way they did for me on the way to the car. “Oscar was threatening to expose her as a rental owner. It would have derailed her whole campaign. Those warning notes were for the mayor.”
“Yup.” I back out of the space and gun the vehicle out onto the main road. “I’m bringing you home, Taylor. You need to stay put until I get back. Please.”
“Where are you going?”
“Lisa Stanley’s house.”
After a second, Taylor sucks in a breath. “Because Lisa is inheriting the properties. She’s got all of her brother’s paperwork coming today and…that knowledge makes her a threat to Rhonda. We need to warn her, get her somewhere safe.”
“Right.”
“Don’t waste time bringing me home. Take me with you.”
An image of her lying on the floor of the library, bleeding from the head, creates a blinding pressure in my skull. “Taylor, don’t ask me to do that.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but a buzzing cell interrupts her. “Oh my God, it’s Lisa,” she says, holding up her phone. Answering it on speakerphone. “Hello?”
For a long stretch, there is nothing but garbled voices.
Scratching.
And then the distinct sound of a door smashing off the wall.
“Get out!” Lisa screams. The line goes dead.
Taylor and I trade a look of pure dread.
With icy sweat forming a layer on my skin, I floor the gas.
Chapter 19
Taylor
* * *
I call the Barnstable police on our way to Lisa Stanley’s house and specifically ask for Wright, who is noticeably stunned when I explain that the mayor has broken into Lisa’s house and is most likely a murderer. Thankfully, he doesn’t waste time reporting Lisa’s phone call to his superior and our belief that Oscar’s sister is in imminent danger. Possibly worse. By the time we skid to a stop in front of her house, there are sirens in the distance, but if they are coming from the station, they are probably more than five minutes away.
“We can’t wait. I’m going in,” Myles says, removing the gun from his jacket and checking the clip. “You’re going to drive to the end of the block, away from the house. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
“You hear me and you’ll do what I’m asking.”
I nod. I nod vigorously, but the walls of my throat are closing together at the thought of Myles going into a house with a murderer. He’s so big and indestructible, I’ve never really had cause to worry about him before. But I am now. And I’m not one hundred percent sure I’ll be able to pull the car away and leave him to possibly get killed.
“Taylor.”
Can I lie? No, I can’t lie. It would be the most expedient way to reassure him so he can stop worrying about me and do his job, but I hate lying. So I won’t.
“I’m going to drive to the end of the block.” I lean across the console and kiss his mouth, adrenaline bringing my voice to a higher pitch than usual. “Away from the house.”
“Good.” He kisses me, too—twice—looking like he wants to say more. Instead, he shoves out of the car with a curse, rapping his knuckles on the roof once. “Climb into the driver’s seat. Go Taylor.”
“Okay.” My eyes are watering, hands shaking, but by the time Myles disappears around the side of the house, gun drawn, I manage to put the car in drive and pull away from the curb, Lisa’s house growing smaller and smaller in the rearview. There’s a pulse pounding in my ears and my stomach is folding in on itself. Oh my God. Oh my God. I don’t want to nose my way into any more murder investigations. I have officially gotten my fill. Is Myles all right? Yes. Yes, he knows what he’s doing. For all we know, the mayor is long gone, anyway. Or we misinterpreted the threat. Even if Rhonda Robinson is inside that house with the real murder weapon, ready to use it, I’m pretty sure a bullet would just bounce right off of Myles. Right?