“It’s locked,” she muttered, looking up at me under her thick lashes.
“Does it need a pin or a thumbprint?”
She swiped her fingers across the screen, a look of determination on her face.Then she bent down, lifted the dead guy’s thumb, and tried not to gag as she pressed it against the phone.
It took a couple of tries before she got the angle right.Once it was unlocked, she dropped his hand and stood up, scanning the recent call log and text messages.
“There aren’t any names in here.”She looked helplessly at me.“It’s all code.”
“What are the codes?”
“Red,” she said and then looked at the guy on the couch.“What does red mean?”She held the phone in the air and shook it at him.
He shrugged and looked away.
Before the phone could lock again, she started looking through it and then gasped.Her eyes filled with tears as she stared at whatever was on the screen.
“What is it, Quinn?”
She turned the phone toward me.On the screen was a photo of Mike.
“Why is there a picture of your brother on his phone?”I asked, furrowing my brow.
Before Quinn could answer, the asshole on the couch decided to speak up.
“Because he’s the next assignment.The payout increases the sooner we deliver him.”
“We have to stop them,” Quinn whispered.
“It’s too late for that,” he snorted.“They sent a sniper in this morning.”
Forty-Two
Rosie
“Idon’t like bologna,” I said as the mean man shoved a sandwich at me.I kept my hands tucked under my butt so I didn’t have to take it.
