Page 49 of Heart Stopping
"They'll charge the cleaning fee to his credit card," Archer said. Then he lunged at Taylor-Francis, and driving the knife deep into his chest. His other hand went over the man's mouth, containing his cry of surprise and pain.
For a few long moments, they stood like that, until Taylor-Francis started to slide down the window and onto the floor.
I helped Archer to lower him and lay him out while he took his last, gurgling breaths.
Archer slid his knife free before making a series of incisions, carving through skin and muscle before he grunted. "Seems I was wrong."
Slicing carefully, he removed Taylor-Francis' heart from his chest cavity and held it up towards me.
"I like you, Harlow," he whispered, sounding shy behind his mask.
"That's so sweet." I reached behind me for a pillow, slid off the case and wrapped the heart up carefully. "I don't think anyone's given me an actual heart before."
"Yeah, well… He didn't need it anymore." Archer cleaned his knife on the side of the sheets and slipped it away. "We should get out of here."
"Good idea." The sun would be up in another hour or two. We needed to be long gone before then. Holding my gift carefully, I stood and headed over to the bathroom.
Just as I got there, Sable opened the door a crack. "Is he…"
"Yeah," I said softly. "Maybe give us an hour or two before you 'find' him. Have a long soak in the tub or something." She wouldn't have seen me smile, but hopefully she heard it in my voice.
"I will," she said, nodding vigorously. "Thank you. Is it wrong that I'm relieved?"
"Not at all," I assured her. Besides, if I thought it was wrong for her to feel good about his death, what did that say about me and Archer for doing it? "Maybe donate some of his money to a woman's shelter."
"Of course I will." She seemed to like that idea. The next few days were going to be rough, but the police would find evidence that somebody stronger than her killed Taylor-Francis while she was in the bath. She was dainty, too small to carve his heart out.
I wished she didn't have to see him lying like that, but that was unavoidable. There was too much blood for us to sneakaway with his body and not have people asking questions. Not to mention, it would be harder to find her innocent without proof of a crime she couldn't have committed. Blood was too easy to misconstrue.
I gave her a nod and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor, Archer right behind me.
"As romantic dates go, that was nice," I told him. "Thank you."
"It's true what the meme says." He took my elbow and led me back towards the stairs. "Women don't want flowers and chocolates, they want the hearts of their enemies and a cottage in the woods. I'll have to work on the second one."
"I don't need a cottage in the woods," I said with a laugh.
We hurried down into the darkness and through the tunnel that led back the way we came. Carefully wiping down door handles and banisters as we passed.
Finally, we reached the door we'd used to enter the tunnels and quickly changed into the clothes we left in a bag beside it, stuffing our black outfits and masks inside in their place. By the time we were finished, we looked like two regular people, out for an early morning run. Me in lycra and a tank top. Him in a T-shirt and loose shorts.
Tossing the bag over his shoulder, Archer took my hand and we walked away just as the sound of sirens started approaching. No part of me was concerned. This was New York City. These sirens might not even be about Taylor-Francis. If they were, we'd be long gone before they arrived.
Instead of panicking, I smiled to myself. The world was a slightly better place than it was when the sun set last night.
"One down, how many more to go?" I asked. The adrenaline was still rushing through me. I wanted to take them all on at once.
"One that matters for now," Archer said. "Granger Fairfield."
CHAPTER 19
HARLOW
"We have a bit of a problem." Gina stuck her head into the kitchen and grimaced. "There's a customer out here who would like to speak to the chef."
"Did they say what about?" I washed and dried my hands before before tossing the towel into the laundry basket.
She spread her hands to either side in a shrug. "He doesn't seem happy." He must be bad if she was looking irritated. Gina Lopez was the cranky customer whisperer. Whatever problem people had, she always had a way of soothing things over. Almost always. Some people couldn't be placated.
