Unseen (Will Trent / Atlanta Series)

“Who loved you?” She tromped down the stairs carrying a large suitcase. She’d packed it too full. She couldn’t hold on. The case bumped down the stairs and didn’t stop until it hit the front door.
    Cayla didn’t seem to mind. She walked down the rest of the stairs, picking her way carefully on high heels. She was dressed up, or at least it seemed that way to Will. Her tight leather miniskirt looked brand-new and the matching silk blouse was cut so low that it showed the pink bow on her bra.
    Franklin told her, “Wait in the car.”
    “Nuh-uh.” She took a pack of cigarettes out of her purse. “I gotta say, Bud, you really fucked me over lettin’ Benji go like that.”
    Will looked at Franklin, but the man didn’t offer an opinion.
    She said, “I had a family in Germany ready to pay thirty grand for him.”
    “Family?” Will didn’t know if she was deluded or naïve.
    “Good thing I got that goddamn plane ticket now.” She put a cigarette in her mouth but didn’t light it. “Except for Shawn picking me up at the hospital, my happy ass would probably be in jail. Ain’t that right, hon?”
    Franklin didn’t answer. He just sat on the sofa looking like he didn’t think he’d ever manage to get up. Part of him still had to be a cop. He’d tried to protect Lena. Paul Vickery had been tied up, not murdered. Franklin had done his best to keep Tony Dell’s name out of the story. And then there was the immutable fact that Will was still breathing.
    DeShawn Franklin was finished with all of this. Maybe it was the kids. Maybe it was Lonnie Gray’s betrayal. Either way, he was done.
    “Shit, Shawn.” Cayla seemed to sense his faltering resolve. She walked over to Franklin, teetering on her high heels. “You know you gotta do this.”
    Franklin reached into his pocket. He pulled out his car keys. “Just leave it in the lot.”
    “Oh, hell no.” Cayla’s head started shaking back and forth. “No, sir.”
    Franklin said, “You’re leaving town. Whatever I end up doing is on me. It’s got nothing to do with you. I owe it to Chuck to make sure your name stays out of it.”
    “She-it, you can’t do anything, Shawn, and I ain’t eatin’ Wiener schnitzel for the resta my damn life.” Cayla flicked the lighter and touched the flame to her cigarette. “Come on. Just finish it. We ain’t got time for your conscience to work itself out.”
    “I’m not going to—”
    Cayla grabbed the Glock and shot Paul Vickery four times.
    The gunfire reverberated in the small room. The air shook with the noise. Vickery’s body jerked violently as the bullets hit his back.
    Will’s hands flew up in front of his face. His knees pulled in like some part of his brain thought he could roll himself into a ball and stop the bullets. He waited for Cayla to turn the gun on him. And waited.
    Nothing happened.
    Will peered up, expecting to find the Glock staring back at him.
    Instead, he saw that Franklin had grabbed the gun away. He was breathing hard, though there obviously hadn’t been a struggle. “Fuck, Cayla!” he screamed. “What the fuck was that!” Franklin knelt down beside Vickery. He pressed his fingers to the man’s neck. “You killed him!”
    “You’re welcome, motherfucker.” Cayla’s cigarette bobbed in her mouth. “I heard you upstairs, Shawn. You told them every damn thing that’s been going on. No wonder Lonnie didn’t wanna hand you over the business.”
    “Shut up!” Franklin pointed the Glock at Cayla. “Just shut the fuck up!”
    The cigarette dropped out of her mouth. “Get that gun outta my face.”
    “I said shut up!” Franklin pressed the gun to Cayla’s chest. “I told you to let me handle this. I told you to just shut the fuck up for once in your miserable life and let me do what I know how to do.”
    Cayla asked, “What’re you gonna do, Shawn? Turn state’s evidence? Go to the cops and tell them you’re sorry?”
    “Stop talking.”
    “You gonna shoot me in the chest, Shawn? That what you promised Chuck you was gonna do? Murder me?” Her words were strong, but she took a step back. “You know we gotta get rid of him or he’ll go straight to the cops.”
    “He won’t go to the cops!” Franklin screamed. “He’s a con. He’s on parole!”
    Will stared down at the floor so he didn’t give himself away. He had no idea why Franklin had maintained his cover.
    And he would never find out.
    Tony Dell pushed open the saloon doors to the kitchen. Will