The Departed

damn certain.” She licked her lips and shot him a narrow glance. “There was a boy yesterday, when I was getting ready to go up in that fort thing—he had on some sort of security uniform, and his name tag read Danvers . That ring any bells?”
    “There is a Mark Danvers on staff. He’s eighteen, works in the security department at the hotel.” Taylor frowned absently, going through his mental files, ticking off the faces until he came to the right one. “Skinny kid. Dark hair, cut short.”
    “That sounds right. He saw me. Could have called for the rest of security, done something to stop me from climbing out there…slowed me down a lot. But he didn’t.” She stopped now and turned to him. A cold wind kicked up, blowing through her short, dark hair. “He knew. He’s involved somehow and he was scared to death, but he knew. And when he figured out what I was up to, he was relieved. Somebody needs to talk to that boy, and they need to do it without his buddies around. Soon, too, because if the others would kill to go through with their plan…what are they willing to do to protect their secrets?”
    Taylor didn’t even want to think about that.
    * * *
     
    MARK waited thirty minutes before he slipped out of the house. He took his bike. He didn’t ride much anymore. Not since he’d started hanging with Brendan and Beau—the Mustang was so much cooler than a fucking bike—but as he pulled on the cold-weather gear he used to use back when he biked all over these roads, he felt some of the stress easing away.
    He never should have started hanging out with them.
    Never should have gotten so caught up in the idea of that shit. He knew it now, wished he’d seen then. Out in the garage, it was chilly, but he ignored it. He lived five miles outside of town. It wouldn’t take him long on the bike, but man, he was going to freeze his ass off. He grabbed an extra fleece from the wall and tugged it on as he laid out the plan.
    He’d look for her, first. Look for the woman, and then if he didn’t find her…shit. He didn’t know. Maybe the guy he’d seen hanging around. The blond guy. He wasn’t from town, but there’d been something about him. Or maybe Luther. Luther would know what to do. Luther always had the answers. Shit. He’d figure it out on the ride. Riding always cleared his head.
    The air laid into him with a cold bite, one that he welcomed. For the first half of the ride, he didn’t make himself think, not at all. He just rode and let his mind drift.
    But as he got closer to town, he made himself start thinking, made himself start trying to plan. If he couldn’t find the woman, and if he couldn’t figure out who the guy was, the next person was…who? Half the police department had their lips firmly plastered to the ass of Brendan’s father. He didn’t know who there he could trust. Luther seemed to be the right call, but Luther wasn’t a cop anymore. Still, he would know who to trust, Mark thought.
    So caught up in his thoughts, he was only dimly aware of the engine. He heard it, but he wasn’t paying attention the way he should. And it didn’t dawn on him until it was almost too late…it was coming way too fucking fast.
    At almost the last second, he jerked his head—saw the vehicle, that sunlight glinting off the Mustang’s gleaming windshield. Swearing, he jerked the handlebars. The wheel hit something and he went flying.
    * * *
     
    BEAU swiped a hand over the back of his mouth and told himself he hadn’t just done that. What the hell had he been thinking?
    He’d just seen Mark and lost it—the fucking pussy had said something. He knew it. They all knew it. All of them. Shit, shit, shit. Mark was the weak one; he was the one who’d talked. They needed to just stop pussyfooting around and deal with it before he fucked them all.
    He saw Mark lying crumpled on the ground and he gripped the gearshift—his hand sweating, his heart racing. He could do it now. Take care of it. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the vehicle for it.
    Up ahead, he saw something, though. Through the trees—sunlight glinting off paint.
    Shit. Heart racing, he pressed on the gas. Easy-like. Couldn’t let anybody see him peeling out of there, right?
    Shit. What the fuck did he do now? Wasn’t like he’d hit Mark or anything, right? He’d go talk to Brendan. Brendan would know what to do.

CHAPTER TEN
    S O close to time.
    I wanted a more peaceful day for us, my pretty angel. My only.
    But it