COOPER SHOUTED, “Get down!” and he and Veena hurled themselves from the bed in opposite directions. Both were very naked. Neither of them cared at that moment.
Cooper landed awkwardly and hard but was able to grab the shotgun under his bed. Veena landed lightly on her hands and feet, almost like a cat. Cooper racked the shotgun, partly to pump two shells into the chamber but also warn anyone who was thinking about entering this room.
Veena felt along the ground for her bag, only to realize that she’d dropped it somewhere in the hall. Damn it!
Cooper aimed his shotgun at the windows behind his bed just as the glass shattered. Lupe started barking like crazy. Cooper crouched down farther and tried to make sense of the shadowy form that was stepping through the broken glass.
Lupe’s barking intensified as he ran down the hall—Veena could hear his claws scrabbling on the hardwood floor. The pup was headed to the front door to deal with the intruder. No, Lupe! Veena screamed in her mind and took off after him.
“Don’t move!” Cooper shouted.
Veena cleared the doorway just as gunfire filled the room, blasting apart Cooper’s computer monitor and dresser mirror and, based on the sound of it, every other glass object he owned.
Screw this, Veena thought.
Cooper stood up and pulled the trigger of his shotgun. Whatever glass had remained in the window frame was obliterated, and it took the shadowy form along with it, the force blasting him back into the alley. The shooter collapsed on top of a folding chair with a loud, messy clatter.
Meanwhile, out in the hall, Veena did two incredibly complex things without really thinking about them. She managed to tackle Lupe midstride, sliding with him along the floor a few inches, which ripped some of the skin from her knees. She also located and scooped up her bag in the darkness.
The front door was nearly ripped from its hinges as a heavy boot forced it open. This was a second attacker; he must have heard the gunfire and decided the time for subtlety had passed.
That man rushed in with a revolver and looked down at Veena’s naked body as she cradled a growling Lupe under one arm and clutched her bag with her other hand.
“What the…Veena Lion? What are you doing here?”
The second attacker was Mickey Bernstein.
Veena didn’t reply. She dropped her arms, giving him a free show. Bernstein couldn’t help himself—he gawked. Lupe took off like a supersonic jet, eyes focused on the intruder. Bernstein yelled and pointed his revolver down at the running dog. Veena lifted the derringer out of her bag and didn’t even think twice about emptying it.
Bang-bang-bang-bang. Four shots, expertly grouped around the chest.
Bernstein tap-danced backward and collapsed in the doorway. Lupe screeched to a halt, knowing that his services were no longer required.
Farther inside the apartment, Cooper heard the shots, but he was too stunned by what he was looking at to react to them. He stood naked in the empty frame of his bedroom window, shotgun in hand, staring down at the wounded figure of…
Vanessa Harlowe.
Maya Rain.
Whoever she was claiming to be on any given day.
Her eyes found Cooper’s, and despite bleeding to death, she worked up a smile that melted his heart a little. Blood streaked across her lips and perfect white teeth, and as he watched, her eyes started to dim.
But now he realized her true name, one he’d only heard spoken a few days ago:
The Quiet One.
Cooper Lamb knew he could never prove it in court or produce any evidence linking Maya Rain to that name and her many crimes. But locking eyes with her now, he could see that all of her masks had slipped away. He just knew.
Which begged the question: Why would the Hughes family have a professional killer caring for their children?
Maybe Archie’s creditors wanted someone to keep an ultra-close eye on Archie. And maybe Archie and Francine knew and had no choice. But if Maya, aka the Quiet One, was that good at her job, she would have had little trouble infiltrating the household.
“I still like you, Cooper,” she said now.
Cooper wanted to reply but hesitated. He knew the Quiet One was dying; when serving overseas, he’d seen the face of imminent death way too many times. Some people never looked more alive than they did right before dying.
Cooper didn’t want the last words Maya ever heard to be something cheap or sarcastic. He wanted to tell her that somehow, impossibly, he still liked her too.
But by the time he’d formulated that thought, she was gone.