Page 103 of Defending You
“Someone took it.” The leader glared at Falcone and Mendez. “Or it was never there to begin with.”
It had been there, though. The velvet bag had been in her purse, beneath the motorcycle’s seat. How had they not found it?
It didn’t make sense.
When Gagnon and the soldier bent over his phone again, Mendez and Falcone started whispering, though by the little she picked up, they weren’t sharing juicy secrets. They were arguing.
Mendez got in Falcone’s face. “Do it, and I’ll kill you myself.”
She turned back to Gagnon and the other soldiers, who paid no attention.
Souza was watching through narrowed eyes.
A thump sounded, and Falcone stumbled back, crashing into the file cabinet she was propped against.
She ducked.
He fell, bumping her shoulder before scrambling away.
And then Mendez was on top of him, punching, pounding.
Souza and one of the other men yanked them apart.
Mendez could barely stay upright, his face bloodied and bruised.
“Tell him!” Falcone shouted. “Tell him or I will.”
“The bodyguard.” Mendez’s voice was garbled. He wiped blood that dripped from his nose, gaze flicking from Falcone to Gagnon. “His body wasn’t at the crash site.”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Cici’s heart pounded. Asher’s body hadn’t been there, which meant…
Asher was alive?
“What did you say?” Gagnon’s tone lowered to that terrifying whisper.
“He looked dead,” Mendez stammered, his mangled face paling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure, but I figured after I tossed him over the edge…” He stopped, realizing he was digging his grave deeper with every word.
The man who’d hoisted Mendez up let him go and moved away. Souza and Falcone did the same, leaving Mendez on his own, only inches from Cici.
She curled herself into a ball, covering her head with her arms as if she could protect herself.
The gunshot was deafeningly loud in the confined space.
Cici screamed.
Mendez collapsed beside her, blood pooling beneath his still form. Her ears rang, and she pressed herself against the filing cabinet so hard the metal handles dug into her spine.
“Clean that up.” Gagnon’s voice was eerily calm.
When nobody moved, she dared to peek.
Falcone stood frozen, eyes wide, staring at the man’s body.
“Now,” Gagnon snapped.
Falcone’s skin had taken on a green pallor, and she feared he’d vomit, but he bent and grabbed Mendez beneath the arms and dragged him toward the door, the man’s blood leaving a dark smear across the concrete floor.
