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Ryan’s aching hands are shaking now. When he returns to the main space of the gallery, his blood turns cold.
The man, his face ghoulish, swollen, and covered in blood, stands behind Ali. He has what looks like a phone or computer cord pulled around her neck. He’s unsteady, but the cord is tight.
Ryan raises his hands, palms out.
The man starts pushing toward the door using Ali as a shield and maybe to support him since he’s badly injured. But not so badly that he can’t kill her.
Ryan should take the gun from his waistband, shoot him. But he’s no sharpshooter. And the killer could finish Ali before Ryan even has time to reach the weapon.
It all occurs so fast, Ryan’s mind can’t comprehend what’s happening: Someone moves swiftly and silently from the back of the gallery, approaching the attacker and Ali from behind.
Hands seize the bloody man’s head and twist it abruptly to the left, then right, and the attacker’s limp body falls to the floor.
Ali yanks the cords from her neck, turns, and throws her arms around the other man.
“Daddy,” she sobs.
68
LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS
Poppy lets out a scream that ricochets in the cabin of the Ford Escort. Panicked, she reaches for her sidearm before whoever’s in her back seat has a chance to harm her. But fright turns to what borders on fury when she realizes who it is.
FBI Special Agent Fincher.
“What in the holy fuck?” Poppy yells.
“Sorry to frighten you.”
“No, fuck that. Get out of my car. This is—”
“I understand your friend reached out to the FBI about Patrick Donnelly,” Fincher says, her voice calm, matter-of-fact.
Poppy’s heart is still beatboxing. She shakes her head, wondering momentarily how the tall woman managed to stay hidden back there. And why would she be skulking around, tracking Poppy?
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
The woman shakes her head, disappointed. “Don’t you think it’s time we shared information?”
“Sharing is a two-way street.”
The corners of the woman’s mouth curl as if she’s amused.
“This isn’t funny. Breaking into someone’s car is a crime, in case you didn’t—”
“You want to know how Dapper Donnelly fits into all this?”
Poppy quells the anger in her chest, tries to focus on this chance to gain information. Poppy says, “He was coming for Alison Lane. She and her father were on the run from the O’Learys. They were in WITSEC.” It’s a bluff, but it’s a good working theory. Let Fincher dispute it.
The agent nods. “Close.”
“Care to fill in the fucking gaps?”
Agent Fincher says, “They weren’t in WITSEC.”
“But they were hiding from O’Leary?”
She nods.