Chương 1
The dog hit Mara Vance hard enough to knock the grocery bag from her arms just as the man behind her raised the pistol.
A jar of pasta sauce burst across the parking garage, red glass skittering beneath parked cars, and Mara went down on one knee with eighty pounds of black German shepherd pressed against her ribs.
The shot came a fraction of a second later.
Concrete snapped above her head.
Someone screamed near the elevators, and then everyone was moving at once.
Mara smelled tomato, gunpowder, and the warm animal scent of the dog as his body shifted over hers.
“Bruno.”
The voice carried through the garage without needing to be loud.
The dog’s ears moved.
He did not get off her.
Mara lifted her head and saw Adrian Vale standing between two black SUVs twenty feet away, one hand empty at his side and the other inside the open front of his coat.
She recognized him because nearly everyone in Baltimore who paid attention to the wrong kind of news recognized Adrian Vale.
The newspapers called him a developer when they were being careful.
Federal prosecutors had used less flattering nouns.
The terrified part of Mara’s mind supplied all of them while the practical part noticed that he was looking past her.
The gunman had disappeared between the rows of cars.
“Bruno,” Vale said again.
The shepherd glanced at him, then planted one paw more firmly beside Mara’s hip.
Something changed in Vale’s face.
It was not surprise exactly.
It was closer to offense.
Mara shoved at the dog’s shoulder.
“Go.”
Bruno looked at her.
“Seriously, go to your terrifying owner.”
His mouth opened in a pant.
He stayed.
Vale crossed the distance toward them, and two men came with him.
One was broad and gray-haired, with the compact movements of someone who expected trouble before breakfast.
The younger one had blood running from his temple and a pistol held low against his thigh.
Mara stared at the weapon.
“Put that away,” Vale said.
The younger man obeyed immediately.
That frightened her more than the gun.
Vale stopped several feet from Mara.
Up close, he looked less like the photographs that accompanied stories about indictments and waterfront contracts.
Those pictures always caught him entering courthouses or restaurants in dark coats, his expression flattened into something expensive and unreadable.
Here there was a crease between his eyebrows, and a small pale scar cut through the edge of his left eyebrow.
“Are you hit?”
Mara checked herself because apparently that was something a person could fail to notice.
Her knee burned where it had struck the concrete.
Her hands were shaking.
There was sauce on the cuff of her beige work coat.
“No.”
Vale looked at Bruno.
“Move.”
The dog did not.
The gray-haired man made a small sound that might have been a laugh if he had been standing anywhere else.
Vale turned his head.
The man became fascinated by the far wall.
Mara tried getting up.
Bruno rose with her, remaining so close that his shoulder pressed her thigh.
Her keys were somewhere beneath the ruined groceries.
One of the elevator doors stood open.
A woman in blue hospital scrubs was crouched inside with her phone held against her chest, staring at them.
“Call the police,” Mara said.
Nobody answered.
The woman’s eyes flicked toward Vale.
“I already did.”
“Good.”
Vale’s attention settled on Mara again.
“You should come with us.”
“No.”
It came out too quickly, but she did not take it back.
The younger man wiped blood from his cheek with his sleeve.
“We need to move, Adrian.”
Vale ignored him.
Mara bent for her keys.
Bruno bent with her.
“Oh, come on.”
She found the key ring beneath a crushed carton of eggs.
When she straightened, Vale was watching the dog rather than her.
“Does he do this often?”
Mara asked.
“No.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
A siren sounded beyond the garage entrance.
The younger man shifted impatiently.
“Adrian.”
This time Vale looked at him.
“Take Vincent downstairs and find out how someone got through the west entrance.”
The gray-haired man, apparently Vincent, frowned.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“You are if I’m telling you to.”
Vincent glanced at Mara, then at Bruno.
His expression suggested the dog had committed an administrative error that would require extensive paperwork.
“You heard the boss,” the younger man said.
“I heard him before you were shaving.”
They moved away arguing under their breath.
Mara wished they had stayed.
That realization made no sense until she found herself alone with Adrian Vale and the dog that apparently belonged to him but had decided she required guarding.
The sirens grew louder.
Vale crouched and picked something from the floor.
Her employee badge.
Mara’s stomach tightened.
He read it before handing it over.
“Mara Vance.”
She snatched it from him.
“You could have just given it back.”
“I did.”
“You read it.”
“It was facing me.”
“That must happen to you a lot.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“What?”
“Information conveniently facing you.”
For the first time, something almost human moved at the corner of his mouth.
It vanished before becoming a smile.
“You’re scared.”
“You’re very observant.”
“Not of me.”
Mara looked toward the dark lane where the shooter had disappeared.
Her heartbeat had begun doing strange things now that the immediate shock was passing.
“I can multitask.”
Vale studied her for another second.
Then he looked toward the entrance as the first police cruiser swept into the garage.
Bruno growled.
It was low enough that Mara felt it through her coat before she properly heard it.
Vale’s eyes dropped to the dog.
“Easy.”
Bruno’s growl deepened.
Two uniformed officers emerged from the cruiser with their hands near their holsters.
“Everybody stay where you are.”
Mara raised both hands.
Vale did not.
One officer recognized him.
His expression changed in a way Mara could not name, but Vale noticed.
Of course he noticed.
“Mr. Vale.”
“Officer.”
May you like
“Anyone injured?”
“Not here.”
