Page 5 of Accidental Murder
“I haven’t held a gun in weeks.” Not that she hadn’t wanted to earlier when she’d visited David—he never let her call himUncleDavid—but he hadn’t had time. Under a deadline because he was headed to a hospital conference, he’d needed her to help him with a Power Point presentation, not do target practice, which was one of the many interests the two of them shared.
“How about the dirt bike circuit?” Peter asked, looking intrigued, but she knew he wasn’t. Her passion for riding didn’t seem to attract anybody other than fellow riders. Peter didn’t even own a Schwinn.
“Dirty,” she joked. Her cell phone hummed. Yet again it felt demanding. She fished it from her pocket and scanned the readout. She’d missed a call from David as well as Sara. Unease soured her gut. She pressed Sara’s message first.
Ashley gave her the evil eye.
“It’s business, sorry.”
A moment of silence passed before Kayla heard Sara say, “It’s me.” She was whispering. “I’m sending you something?—”
The message ended abruptly. Kayla cursed under her breath.
“Who’s calling this time, your ex-CIA spook?” Ashley asked. To Peter she said, “The guy is genuinely creepy.”
“You’ve met him?” Peter arched an eyebrow.
“No, but Kayla says while she fixes his computer, he talks to her in Russian, and?—”
“It was Sara,” Kayla replied.
Ashley said to Peter, “Sara Simmons is a bleeding-heart bioethicist. She . . .” She shook a finger. “Hold on. You know who I mean. You met her at one of my soirees. She’s the one with so many causes she makes Mother Theresa look like a hack.”
“Athletic with short dark hair?”
“You nailed it.” She glanced at her sister. “What did Sara have to say for herself?”
“The message cut out,” Kayla said. “She sounded desperate.”
Ashley raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Sara can be a drama queen.”
Occasionally, sure, Kayla thought,but this time?
Ashley nudged her. “Hey, why don’t we forget your clients and return to my session with the iridologist while we’re waiting to order?”
“Please, let’s not.” Peter mock-groaned.
Ashley fiddled with the hair at the nape of her neck and in singsong fashion said, “She saw a fabulous Hermes scarf in my future.”
Peter laughed. “I’ll bring one back from Paris. Happy?” He traced a finger along her jaw, a move so intimate Kayla wished she could disappear into the woodwork.
Ashley batted Peter’s hand away and said, “Kayla, I almost forgot. I set up a blind date for you tomorrow.”
“On a Tuesday?”
“David approves of him,” Ashley continued. “He says he’s a good guy. He served in the Navy, and he likes extreme sports. I’m going to meet him tomorrow morning to give my blessing.”
Kayla glowered at her sister. Why were she and her uncle forever conspiring to fix her up? Neither had a good track record for knowing the kind of man she liked. None of the last five blind dates had ended well. Three had been handsy. Didn’t anybody wait until date two for a stab at intimacy? She braved a smile, eager to get through dinner so she could go home and focus on her clients’ problems, not hers. “Yeah, sure, okay,” she mumbled, anything to appease her sister and end the conversation.
“Sara will be thrilled, don’t you think?” Ashley continued. “She’s always prodding you to get a life. I’ll bet . . .”
Her sister’s mouth kept moving, but Kayla stopped listeningas images of Sara lying injured, or worse, scudded through her mind.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fitz hung backand watched Sara doing her best to avoid discovery from the security cameras. What was her plan?
At the intersection of two hallways, she paused. She hadn’t packed a pistol. Her slim-fitting jogging clothes would have revealed one. She turned left. He followed. Sara entered a laboratory marked:Neurology, the lab for first-round graduates.
