Expired Getaway (Last Chance County #7) - Lisa Phillips Page 0,6
Clarke would do this. But maybe I’m not that surprised, you know?”
“I know what you mean.” Then again, she would’ve said the same thing about Sasha if this whole thing was her and not Clarke. “I’m looking at the surveillance footage now.”
“And?”
Bridget studied the screen of her laptop. “Enrico doesn’t seem too upset that Clarke killed two of his men. They seem kind of chummy. After they knocked me unconscious, they walked outside and had a short conversation. Clarke watched Enrico leave and then walked off down the street.”
As though the building wasn’t about to explode, and there weren’t two dead bodies and an unconscious woman inside.
Her stomach knotted. What did you get into, Clarke?
“Toward his car?”
Bridget said, “Maybe. I don’t know where he normally parked.”
She was still trying to puzzle out the relationship between Enrico and Clarke. Let alone why Clarke had chosen Bridget, of all the people at the office, to get close to.
I’m not a weak link.
Sasha broke the silence. “So who contacted who, and when? Does Clarke work for Capeira number two?”
“Enrico’s the number one now.” Bridget had been forced to kill his brother just days ago, which meant he’d inherited everything. “I can’t tell by studying the video whether he and Clarke were friends, or just in business together. Or who exactly is in charge.”
“And we can’t get into his phone to find out,” Sasha pointed out. “But that also means he can’t track any of us or breach our firewalls.”
Security went both ways with their system. To access the company information stored on the cloud—not an easy task on remote servers—there had to be two user IDs entered along with both user’s passwords.
Sasha wasn’t a weak link either.
Which was why Bridget thought Millie might be. As the only one with a family, she was vulnerable.
“You’re somewhere safe, right?” Bridget worried her colleague might be targeted, even if it was a long shot and she knew very well that Sasha could take care of herself. And would.
“I’m good. Do you need help?”
Instead of answering, Bridget said, “I’d have thought Enrico would be taking advantage of the power vacuum in the cartel. Though coming after me and getting revenge for his brother’s death might be part of assuming control.”
“So he could be using Clarke to tie up one final loose end. And you know it’s easier to pay someone who’ll do anything for cash rather than use threats to force a person who isn’t easily bought.”
Bridget frowned. “I don’t believe he didn’t contact Clarke until after I killed his brother. I think he and Clarke have had a longer relationship than that because it’s the only thing that makes sense. There’s no way he could have convinced Clarke around to his way of thinking—even with blackmail—fast enough to get here in time to try and kill me.”
“He should’ve just put a bullet in your head.”
Bridget swallowed. “I’m partial to the fact that he didn’t.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re alive. But if he wanted you dead, then he should’ve killed you, not just blown up the office and assumed you died in the blast.”
Her soup began to boil to the top of the pan. Bridget hopped up and got a bowl to dump it into. Only now it was far too hot to eat, and she didn’t want to burn her mouth. Her growling stomach just needed to hang tight a little longer while she waited for it to cool.
She slumped back onto the stool. “Staying alive when by all rights I should be dead is about the only thing I’m good at.”
Sasha laughed. “You and me both, girl. Let me know when you find Clarke. I’ll help you take care of him.”
With that last parting threat, Sasha hung up. It was all part of her charm.
Bridget didn’t know her all that well, despite working together for years. Sasha kept to herself. What she did know was that Sasha would be an asset in a situation like this. Bridget would be making the right move if she allowed Sasha to help her, and being a team player usually counted as a good thing. Except that she was far more comfortable working alone.
The way she’d always been.
Always would be.
Bridget ate the soup and drank enough coffee to keep her awake for a week. She made notes of everything that’d happened on her mission, right up to walking into this house. Just before sunrise, she made macaroni and cheese and jazzed it up with fake bacon bits