Make Me Up (Killer Style 3)

“Spill it.” She jammed her finger hard into his chest. “Now.”

“She was going to ruin everything. No one ever wanted to admit that someone had discovered their dirty little secrets—except, of course, for Mrs. Orton. She took a slash and burn policy to all of Mr. Orton’s secrets—his latest mistress had only recently turned eighteen. A man of his stature was willing to pay just about any amount of money necessary to keep a statutory rape charge at bay. However, Mrs. Orton was going to put every little thing out there for the world to see. That would leave Mr. Orton very little reason to keep paying hush money to Diamond Tommy. Even less reason for my continued employment.”

“With either of your employers,” Cam said.

“Exactly.” Fergus twitched. Sweat beaded along his receding hairline, and damp spots appeared under his armpits. “Because once Mr. Orton stopped paying Diamond Tommy, it would only be a matter of time until others found out. They’d all stop paying. It would all be because of Mrs. Orton, but Diamond Tommy would blame me.”

“And you couldn’t let that happen,” Cam said.

Fergus nodded as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and then wiped his forehead with the white square. “Not if I wanted to keep breathing. Then Mr. Orton’s fish tank broke, spilling fish everywhere, including that puffer fish with its poisonous liver just there for the taking. Suddenly, I saw a way out.”

“So you killed Natasha to send a message to the other people being blackmailed.” The ice in Cam’s voice sent a shiver down Drea’s spine. “And you cleared all this with Tommy?”

“As long as the murder couldn’t be traced back to me and then him, he didn’t care what happened.”

“You’re going to care a whole hell of a lot now.” Cam grabbed Fergus by the collar.

The butler blanched and tried to wiggle free.

She almost felt bad for the bastard. Almost. She put her hand on Cam’s arm. He dropped the butler, who scurried over to the couch.

“You could go to the police now—tell them everything.” It was a long shot, but Drea had to put out the option. The cops would never believe her if she brought them this story without proof. She needed him to confess. “You could probably go into witness protection.”

Fergus side shuffled the length of the couch, then stopped when he came to the wall with a window overlooking the street. His voice rose an octave. “Tommy has his sights set on you, Drea. Of course, at this point, he would happily kill me too.”

“We won’t let him,” she said. “Just come with—”

“It’s too late. He’s already on his way here. So are the cops.”

Cam let out a low growl. “And why would he be on his way here?”

Fergus backed away. “I couldn’t not call him—or the cops. I didn’t have a choice. I haven’t for a long time.” He peeked through the blinds covering the window facing the street, making them jiggle in time with his shaking hands. “Here they come now.”

Drea’s vision darkened around the edges as the panic roared through her veins. Would they never be more than a few steps ahead of the law and the lawless? The world wobbled, and her stomach roiled. She turned away from Fergus, sucked in a deep breath, and caught sight of Cam in the open doorway. Cocky pretty boy that he was, he had the audacity to wink at her. It popped the tension bubble caught in her chest and made her laugh—no doubt just as he’d intended.

She didn’t know where she’d go or what the hell would happen next, but she wasn’t about to stick around to see if it was the cops or Diamond Tommy’s goons who’d gotten there first.

“Let’s blaze, babe.” There wasn’t an ounce of worry in Cam’s voice.

She didn’t hesitate. Whatever happened next, they’d find a way. Together. They always did. She sprinted across the room and out the door.

Cam took the steps two at a time as he hustled up the stairs to the heavy metal door leading to the roof, Drea right beside him. They burst out into the sunlight, and the July humidity smacked against his cheek with full force. The deserted rooftop didn’t offer any human-sized hiding spots, but that wasn’t what he was looking for.

They needed an out.

What he wouldn’t give for an extraction team right about now. He’d been in worse spots before, but none with Drea—and that changed everything. It gave the adrenaline rushing through his veins an extra kick and had him skating the edge of crazy.

He scanned the horizon, and the solution appeared a block away in the form of ten-acres of green in the middle of Harbor City’s urban jungle. The western corner of which sat right next to where Cam had left his motorcycle.

“See that?” He pointed west. “If we can get to Central Square, we can double back to my bike and get the hell out of here without anyone seeing us.”

“And just how are we going to get there?” Drea asked.

Their options were limited, but that had never stopped him before. It sure as hell wasn’t going to now.

He ran to the rooftop’s edge. There was a four story drop between Fergus’s building and the brownstone next to it. Scary as shit for a newbie, but totally doable. “We’re jumping.”

She followed him to the edge, looked down at the alley forty feet below, and gulped. “Are you fucking kidding me?”