of earshot, her assailant hurried her along. “Let’s move.”
She pretended to stumble over her own feet, letting out a gasp. He gripped her elbow even harder, his gun slipping for a moment, but then he pulled her along again. The distraction had worked, however: she’d managed to pull the cell phone Stingray had given her from her pocket, press what she hoped was the redial button, and drop it into the grass. Stingray had programmed in his number, and they’d tested it before she’d left with the van. She could only hope now that he would get the message that she was in trouble. It was a long shot, but what else could she do?
“Stop, please,” she begged loudly, praying that the call had already connected and would pick up her voice from this distance. “My ankle. I think I sprained it. Please don’t take me into those public restrooms. Please don’t kill me.”
“Shut up, you bitch!” he growled, looking around. He seemed satisfied that nobody was close enough to have heard her or seen her struggle.
Her gaze darted past the structure ahead of them, where sailboats and motorboats were docked at the small marina. But it was quiet there, too.
With every step they got closer to the public restrooms, hope that the cavalry would arrive in time faded a little bit more. A hand clamped around her heart and squeezed it tighter with every second. Soon, it would all be over. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her end: shot in a public restroom, her body lying on the urine-stained concrete floor. A cold shiver raced down her back, and her hands trembled.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she didn’t even try to blink them back. Nobody would see them, nobody but her killer.
“Please,” she murmured, but he’d already opened the door to the women’s restroom and shoved her inside.
A single neon light flickered on the ceiling. Except for the dripping faucet it was quiet. There were three stalls, their doors open. The smell of human waste hit her immediately, making her nose twitch uncomfortably. A morbid thought came: at least she wouldn’t have to bear the stench for long.
For the first time since the assassin had caught her, he released her elbow and pushed her from him, toward one of the stalls. She whirled around, needing to watch him. As if seeing the gun would somehow help her stop him.
With a serenity only a professional killer could exhibit, he pulled a silencer from his jacket pocket. He placed the jacket over the waste bin, then slowly screwed the silencer onto the barrel of his pistol.
“It won’t hurt,” he promised.
“Please, just let me go. I promise I’ll disappear today. Nobody has to find out that you didn’t kill me. I’ll leave the country.”
The assassin shook his head. “Sorry, lady, but I always fulfill my duty.”
Instinctively, she shrank back, stepping deeper into the stall until her legs backed up against the toilet bowl.
The cocking of the gun echoed off the walls. The sound thundered in her ears and made her heart stop. This was it then. The end.
Another sound, that of creaking door hinges, reached her ears a split second later.
Her head veered in the direction of the door as it opened. Oh, no, another innocent woman would have to die because she was about to witness a murder.
“No! Run!” Michelle screamed at the person she couldn’t even see, because the assassin was blocking her view of the door.
He spun around, his back to her now, his gun hand outstretched.
The shot echoed louder than she would have expected. She’d always thought a silencer would dampen the sound of the gunshot to a dull rumble. But this was different, louder, deafening.
Paralyzed, she stared at the assassin’s back, expecting him to turn around to her now and finish her. But instead, his knees buckled and he collapsed onto the dirty floor. Her gaze flew to the door. Nick stood there, a gun in his hand.
“Are you all right?” he asked, rushing toward her.
She nodded, but couldn’t get a single word over her lips.
Nick sidestepped the dead body and reached for her, pulling her out of the stall. “We have to leave. Now. Before anybody sees us.”
She nodded numbly and clung to his hand as he dragged her out of the bathroom and around to the other side, away from the entrance.
The van, its engine running, was waiting for them. For a moment she wondered how that was possible, since she still felt the