Page 27 of Girl Anonymous

“Two years? Two years someone has been trying to—” Words failed Maarja.

Dante nodded. “A runaway vehicle. A random street shooting that came too close.”

“Crap.” She twisted the sheet between her fingers. They didn’t feel as nimble as usual. They felt big, clumsy.

“A dinner out that ended in the hospital with lifesaving measures.”

“Food poisoning?” she ventured.

“Simply put, a poisoning. My cousin Jack Arundel is a police detective—”

And didn’t that say every damned thing about his family?

“—and he said unless we could figure out who, they were going to get better at planning, while we would inevitably fail in our protective measures, and the killers would finish the job.” For a guy who was as attached to his mother as Dante had appeared to be, he’d been amazingly stoic.

She put her hand on his arm. “Youcancry, you know. She was your mother.”

He shook his head. “I can’t cry. I need to discover who wanted her dead.”

“Who do you suspect?”

“Traditionally, I’d suspect you.”

She had to unclench her teeth to speak. “Can we dismiss that suspicion?”

“Yes. You’ve exonerated yourself.”

She touched the still-warm skin on her face. “Gee, thanks.”

“And put yourself into the path of the killer.”

“What?” He looked serious. “Why? Because I saved her?”

“That, certainly. An assassin wanted no body to remain, no trace of Raine Arundel left on this earth.”

“Obliteration.”

“And a move back to the old ways.”

“Will they kill you next?”

“Not easily.” He smiled chillingly. “I do hope they try. That would simplify the task of finding the traitors, but it seems unlikely.”

“Why wouldn’t they try to kill you?” She answered the question herself. “Because they believe your mother’s death will serve as a warning, make you reconsider the move to the legal and moral. Which is not as profitable?”

“Not as easily profitable. Not for people who want to break the rules.”

“Maybe they think the move to respectability was made on your mother’s insistence. Now you’ll be out from under her influence and—”

“They can influence me instead.”

“Have theymetyou?”

“I assume. There’s a good chance they’re related to me, although that’s not one hundred percent. If that’s the case, it means they hate you because you’re a Daire. Romani. We’re back tothe blood vendetta and yet another reason to end your life.” He was such a straight talker.

Why? She’d lived with this her whole life. She knew the ugly facts. “Did your mother recognize me the first time I worked for her?”

“She suspected.”

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