Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-seven

The violent pounding on the door of her apartment startled Irene just as she was about to pour herself a cup of coffee. She had been unable to get back to sleep after the disturbing call from Amelia, so she had abandoned the effort.

She had showered and dressed for the day, made a large pot of coffee, and sat down at the computer. It was going on five a.m. now. She had tried to get some work done but she could not stop thinking about Amelia’s warning. Falcon is the reason I’m calling. Your new boyfriend murdered three people tonight and I’m pretty sure he would have killed me and my assistant, too, if he’d had the opportunity.

The drive from Lucent Springs took approximately two hours. If Amelia was right—if Falcon had been in the desert town earlier tonight and if he had left around the time she had called—he would be returning to San Diego about now.

Another series of demanding raps reverberated through the apartment.

Falcon. It had to be him.

She looked at the aquarium on the end of the kitchen island. Daisy and Dahlia were cruising through the underwater forest of fake plants and miniature statues, on the lookout for their next meal.

“I may have made a serious mistake,” Irene said.

The goldfish ignored her. Unfortunately, she could not ignore the door. If she didn’t respond, the jerk in the neighboring apartment would call the manager.

“I’m coming,” she said,

She left the coffee on the counter, went to the door, and peered through the peephole. Falcon was on the other side. He was wearing his leather jacket over a black T-shirt and jeans and she knew he probably had a shoulder holster and pistol under the jacket. The outfit went with his tough undercover cop attitude. But there was something different about him tonight.

It took her a couple of beats to figure out what had changed. When he wiped his forehead on the sleeve of the jacket, she realized he was sweating. There was a haunted look in his eyes. Falcon was scared. Terrified.

She undid the locks and opened the door.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What happened?”

“Things got fucked up bad,” Falcon rasped. “You have to help me.”