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Thomas turned on him. “Yeah, why don’t we just have a tea party and discuss it? I’m sure she’ll keep her mouth shut once she realizes we’re a friendly lot.”

“I’m being serious.” He lowered his voice and took a step closer to Thomas.

Allye strained to hear his argument, but she couldn’t make out the words. There was no mistaking the disdain on Thomas’s face though. Wesley might be buying her a few extra minutes, but he wasn’t going to convince this man of anything.Please, God, send help.

Wesley’s voice rose slightly. “She’s not stupid—she’ll back off.”

Thomas thrust his finger at Wesley’s chest. “You’re more ofan idiot than I thought. She knows too much.” He swiveled to fully face Allye again. “And she has no intention of backing off.”

“I—”

“Save your breath.” He sliced a hand toward Wesley. The liquid in his glass sloshed over the rim. “She knows you’re involved now. KnowsI’minvolved. You think for one minute she won’t turn us all in?”

“Whyareyou here?” She couldn’t figure out why he’d risk showing himself to her instead of just ordering a hit.

Thomas looked at her and grinned. The evil expression looked so like Bernie’s that her stomach constricted even more than it already was. He lifted his glass to her in a toast. “No sense in wasting a good show.”

Wesley paled, and Allye felt horror fill her. She remembered the victim behind her studio. Bernie had beaten him to death. While Thomas watched.

They weren’t planning to shoot her.

44

Banging on the doorpulled Allye from her shock.

Thomas spun away from her and sidled up next to the window. He lifted an edge of the heavy plaid curtain, then yanked it back and cursed. He strode to the door and flung it open.

“What’s he doing here?”

“Caught him poking around outside.”

He cursed again. “Get him in here.”

Allye half rose as Eric stepped inside, hands raised. The man who’d blocked her car in earlier was close behind him and held a gun to his back.No.Eric’s eyes met hers, and she saw relief mixed with concern there.

Thomas pulled his own gun, which appeared to be equipped with a suppressor, and pointed it at Allye. “You, sit.” She sank back into the leather wingback. He glared at the newcomers. “Was he alone?”

“Yes.” The man’s low voice was slightly familiar, but Allye couldn’t place it.

Thomas’s face smoothed somewhat, but he still looked massively irritated. He trained his gun on Eric. “Tie him up, Lenny.”

The man produced zip ties from his pocket and quickly secured Eric’s wrists behind his back, then shoved him to the floor.

Thomas lowered the gun and took a sip of the bourbon he still held. “Well, Allye. Looks like you don’t have to die alone.”

Bernie came up beside his brother. He cracked his knuckles. “I’m ready. Which one you want me to take first?”

“Take me,” Eric said, struggling to his feet. His hands were still bound behind his back, but he squared his shoulders. “Or are you chicken?”

Eric, no!But she couldn’t get the words past her throat. She watched in horror as Bernie’s eyes darkened and he started toward him.

“No.” Wesley’s determined tone drew all eyes to him. He’d backed into the kitchenette and drawn his gun, which was now pointed at the ringleader. “This has gone far enough. Drop your gun, Thomas. Rest of you keep your hands where I can see them.”

“Your family is dead,” Bernie hissed. He took a step in Wesley’s direction, which also brought him closer to Allye.

“Stop right there. I’m not afraid to pull the trigger.” But the weapon trembled in Wesley’s hands. Even from halfway across the room, Allye could see the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Thomas said, his voice level. “We don’t want your family dead, but you know as well as I do that these two have to go. They don’t die, we’re all going down—you included.”