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“Ma’am, we’re about to get a warrant from Judge Iginla,” St. Ivany cut in. “We need to see who rented a black SUV from here in the past week.”
The woman—whose badge read Letitia—crossed her arms. “Well, we keep impeccable records, so I’m sure we’ll be able to help you. But wewillneed to see that order from the judge.”
“Of course,” St. Ivany said, pulling out her phone. They all waited in semi-awkward silence until the order came through.
Once it did, Letitia shifted her attention to the computer. A few keystrokes later she presented them with a list of three names.
Raisa didn’t need to see any others.
There at the bottom was one that jumped out immediately.
Delaney Moore.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Raisa
Day Six
Black closed in from the sides of Raisa’s eyes.
Everything went hazy and distant—like she was a long way away from the car rental shop.
She heard the thump of metal against flesh. Smelled copper in her nose.
Delaney had hit Kilkenny. She’d tried to kill him.
Bile rose in her throat. She had thought Isabel had threatened Delaney with Kilkenny’s death, but she had been so stupid. Delaney didn’t care about anyone but herself—and Isabel.
“Thank you,” St. Ivany said to Letitia, who obligingly printed them off the official documents they needed to confirm Delaney had made the rental. Then St. Ivany shepherded Raisa out of the store. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Raisa leaned against the brick wall and closed her eyes. That was a mistake. All she could see was Kilkenny hitting the ground. She could feel his cracked skull beneath her fingers.
She took a shallow breath and then a deeper one. She counted to five and then ten and then twenty.
“Agent Susanto.” St. Ivany’s voice came from a distance, and Raisa stared down at her hands to focus herself.
They were curled into fists, her nails biting into her flesh.
“She should have been in jail,” Raisa managed. “This wouldn’t have happened if she had been in jail where she belongs.”
Any hesitation was gone. Raisa could hardly even believe that she’d thought about hiding incriminating evidence against the woman who had nearly killed Kilkenny. Who, for all they knew, could still be responsible for his death.
Her stomach rolled at that thought, and she had to hum to stop herself from throwing up.
This is your attachment disorder speaking,Kilkenny said calmly, from the hospital.
Raisa shook her head. “It’s called fucking friendship, you asshole.”
“Uh,” St. Ivany said, stepping closer, pausing, and then stepping back.
It was enough to bring Raisa fully back to the moment. “Sorry, I’ve developed a habit of talking to Kilkenny.”
“Oh.” St. Ivany didn’t seem reassured, so Raisa waved her hand.
“I’m not hallucinating, I know he’s not here.” This had gotten so absurd, it had actually helped. “Ignore me. Anyway, we must have enough to arrest Delaney now.”
St. Ivany sighed. “I’m sorry, but probably not.”