Chapter 31

31

Danielle was a few people from the front when someone in the crowd behind her shouted, “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

This was joined by a chorus of other displeased voices, then a quick, muffled “Sorry.”

Only the apology wasn’t in Hungarian but in German.

She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Dieter and his colleagues wending their way through the crowd, their eyes locked on her.

With renewed urgency, she slipped through another gap, then said, “Excuse me,” to a couple standing in her way.

She squeezed between them, then grabbed a man at the barrier and yanked him out of her way.

“Hey!” he barked. “That’s my place!”

She grabbed the top of the barrier and vaulted over it.

“Stop!” a police officer yelled. “You must go back!”

He was close, but not close enough to grab her before she began sprinting toward the film crew.

Tessa and Mari strode arm in arm down the pathway like best friends out for a night on the town, the bridge lit by warm orange lights in the background.

“And cut!” Regina shouted.

“Go again?” the AD asked.

Regina nodded. “It was good, but I want them to try one more thing.”

As she headed over to Tessa and Mari, the AD raised his bullhorn and said, “Reset. Going again.”

Two makeup artists hurried over to Tessa and Mari and touched them up as Regina talked to the talent.

“I like her,” Billy said, referring to Regina. “She knows what she wants.”

“She does,” Peter said. “I can’t wait to see what she creates for Centurion.”

Billy’s phone vibrated with a text from Stacy.

Just checked with reception. Your friend arrived about twenty minutes ago.

He felt a rush of relief. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but he’d begun to wonder if Danielle had become another Golden Hour casualty.

He sent Stacy a thank-you and slipped his phone back in his pocket just as Regina returned.

“Let’s go,” she said.

The AD quieted the set.

“Action!” Regina called.

Tessa and Mari began walking again, but before they had gone more than a half dozen steps, a clamor broke out from the crowd of fans.

“Fuck!” Dieter spat as Verde leaped over the barrier.

Around him, the people began shouting encouragement to Verde, as if she was doing what they all wished they’d done.

“Get me a clear shot,” he said to Rolf and Andreas.

Verde had not only seen him, but there had been recognition in her eyes. He could not let her tell anyone who he was.

Without a word, his colleagues began pushing bodies out of the way. When they reached the barrier, they stood to either side of Dieter, blocking the crowd from seeing him slip his gun out of his holster and attach a silencer.

It was not going to be an easy shot. If he raised the pistol so he could look down the barrel, everyone around them would see it. And if he crouched down, the people behind him would know something was up.

He took a breath, aimed from his hip as best he could, and pulled the trigger.

The spit of the silencer was drowned out by the noise of the crowd. A beat later, their shouts turned into gasps as Verde was knocked to the ground.

Dieter wanted to take a second shot to make sure the woman was dead, but the police officers running toward her moved in the way.

He couldn’t risk staying there a moment longer. “Rendezvous at the train station,” he whispered, then he and his colleagues disappeared into the crowd in separate directions.

Billy turned toward the noise coming from the fans. A woman was running toward the shoot with several police officers in pursuit.

He assumed it was a fan who was trying to get to Tessa and Mari, but then he saw her face. She looked terrified, not excited.

A muzzle flashed from the other side of the barrier, and the woman flew forward and smashed onto the gravel walkway.

“Gun!” Billy yelled. “Everybody, down!”

While the crew scrambled for cover, Billy ran over to Tessa and Mari. Their view of the woman had been blocked by the camera and monitors, so they looked confused instead of scared.

“Down!” he yelled.

Tessa grabbed Mari’s hand and pulled her onto the ground. When Billy reached them, he positioned himself between them and the shooter. That’s when he realized that Peter had followed him.

“I told you to get down!” he said.

“Ben would never forgive me if I left Tessa in harm’s way.”

“Do you think Hattie would be happy if I let you get shot?”

“But I wasn’t, so everything’s fine.”

“Not the point! But never mind. Get down next to them!”

To Billy’s relief, Peter did just that.

Billy adjusted his position so he could look in the direction from which the shot had come. While he couldn’t see the woman from where he was, he could see that the fans had scattered.

There didn’t appear to have been any additional gunshots, though, which meant to him that either the shooter had been caught or had fled.

“Stay here until you get the all clear,” he said, then hurried over to where the woman lay, surrounded by three cops.

Someone had rolled her onto her back, and Billy realized she was Danielle Verde. Her sweater was soaked in blood, and her breaths were ragged and uneven.

One of the officers noticed him and said something to him in Hungarian, which Billy assumed was “Get back.”

“I know her,” Billy said as he knelt next to Danielle.

A younger cop had a hand covering Danielle’s wound, but Billy could see he wasn’t pressing hard enough. He put his hand on top of the cop’s hand and pressed down.

“Like that,” he said.

The cop nodded.

“You…speak English,” Danielle said, her voice so weak that Billy almost didn’t hear it.

“Shh,” he said. “Don’t waste energy.”

“I’m looking…for someone. Billy Ba…” She seemed to fade away for a moment.

“Barnett? That’s me.”

Her eyes flared with surprise. “You’re Billy?”

When he nodded, she closed her eyes in relief.

In the distance, the sound of sirens pierced the night. One of the officers still on his feet ran toward the barrier.

Billy gave Danielle a little shake. “Hey, stay with me. Help’s coming.”

Instead of saying anything, she moved a hand toward one of her pockets, but she was having a hard time slipping it inside.

“Help…me,” she whispered.

Billy glanced at the two remaining officers. The one pressing on Danielle’s wound was focused on his task, while the other was looking toward the barrier.

Careful not to draw their attention, he slipped his hand into her pocket. The only thing inside was what felt like a credit card. He eased it out, keeping it hidden in his palm, then turned his hand just enough to get a peek at it. It was a hotel key card.

When he looked back to tell her he had it, her eyes were closed again. He tried to shake her awake, but to no avail.