Relentless (Option Zero #2) - Christy Reece Page 0,107

she thought her cousin was most likely grinning down from heaven at the joke.

She would donate what she could, and the other things, like Becca’s collection of classic old movies and rare first-edition books, she would keep and treasure.

All those things would have to wait until she could think without the veil of sorrow and fear blurring her mind.

At the mention of refreshments, Aubrey went tense, and the entire atmosphere of the room shifted to a crackling awareness. Hartley swallowed nervously several times and shuffled pages in front of him as if he was looking for something. It was as if everyone was holding their breath for the killer to strike.

She heard dishes rattling outside the door, and when a young woman entered the room, Aubrey was a little surprised. This woman didn’t look like a threat. She was the same person who’d led them to the conference room. Dressed in a body-skimming dress of royal blue and stiletto heels, she looked as though she should be on a runway in Milan, not in a staid law firm serving tea and cookies.

“Thank you, Angelina,” Hartley was saying.

“I’ll pour the tea if you like,” Angelina said.

“That’s not necessary. We can serve ourselves.”

Giving everyone a blanket smile, Angelina backed out of the room and shut the door.

Aubrey glanced at the lovely tea set. Was the tea poisoned? Liam suspected her uncle had been killed that way. Maybe the cream or sugar? Or the cookies.

“Tea, Aubrey?” Hartley asked.

“No, thank you,” Aubrey said. “I really would like to proceed and get this over with.”

“Of course, of course.” The lawyer glanced over at Liam and Gideon. “Mr. Thorndike, Mr. Sims, would either of you like refreshments?”

Both Gideon and Liam shook their heads. If Norman Hartley thought it strange that neither of her legal advisors had spoken a word beyond hello since entering the room, he was too polite to say so.

Which was likely why he spilled the tea on the way to his mouth when Liam growled, “You really shouldn’t drink that.”

Setting the cup back onto the saucer, Hartley frowned at him. “Why is that?”

“Either you really don’t know, or the tea isn’t poisoned.”

“You think I would knowingly drink poisoned tea?”

“You’re not going to ask why I would think the tea is poisoned?”

“I’m assuming you believe someone means your client harm.” His eyes went hard as diamonds. “Is that right?”

Fascinated, Aubrey watched Norman Hartley transform from the pleasant, slightly boring man to someone she didn’t recognize.

He turned to her and said, “You’re doomed, my dear.”

Shooting up from his chair, Liam strode toward Hartley, and snapped at Gideon, “Get Aubrey out of here.” Grabbing hold of Hartley’s tie, he jerked him up and snarled, “What do you know, asshole?”

“Only what I’m allowed to know.” His smile went sly. “That’s how they work, you know. No one knows whom to trust. The tea, as you say, could be poisoned. I stopped worrying about that long ago. Life is entirely too short to wonder if today will be the day they’re through with you. When they’re ready for you to go, there’s no stopping them.”

Still holding Hartley by the tie, Liam turned and snarled, “Get her out of here. Now.”

Gideon already had a hand on her arm, pulling her up. Aubrey grabbed her purse and took one step toward the door. She jerked in surprise as an ear-piercing alarm split the air.

“It’s the fire alarm,” Hartley shouted.

Shoving Hartley back into his chair, Liam ran toward Aubrey, who was already being hustled toward the door by Gideon.

“Let’s go!”

The killer waited. Going in too early would be detrimental to his plan. With doors blocked, people would be running frantically around like crazed ants.

Smoke billowed through the air, and screams bounced against the walls as people ran through the hallways looking for a way out. But there wasn’t one. He had taken care of that.

While Gideon held on to Aubrey’s hand, Liam led the way down the hallway. The stairway was right around the corner and—

He halted. A large crowd had gathered in front of the stairway door. Several people pounded on it. The door was either locked or blocked. Terror on their faces, a dozen or so turned around and headed the opposite direction in search of another outlet.

Liam pressed his earbud. “Ash, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Ash answered. “What the hell’s going on?”

“We’ve got a fire up here. Doors are blocked.”

“Must be confined to your floor. No alarms have gone off anywhere else. I hear firetruck sirens screaming. We’re