Chương 2
The officer’s gaze moved over the broken jar, the bullet scar in the concrete, Mara, and Bruno.
“What happened?”
“A man fired at her,” Vale said.
Mara turned.
“At me?”
Vale met her stare.
“Yes.”
“No.”
The second officer looked between them.
“You disagree about who got shot at?”
“I don’t disagree that somebody fired a gun,” Mara said.
Her voice sounded brittle to her own ears.
“I disagree with the part where he somehow knows the bullet was meant for me.”
Vale’s expression closed.
Bruno remained against her leg.
The first officer asked Mara to step toward the cruiser.
She tried.
Bruno came with her.
“Sir, control your dog.”
“I’m attempting to.”
Mara nearly laughed, which frightened her enough to stop.
The officer separated them as much as Bruno allowed and began asking questions.
Mara gave her name, address, employer, and the humiliating reason she had been in the garage at nine fourteen on a Tuesday night.
She had stayed late at Calder Financial because a vice president named Warren Pike had misplaced three pages from an audit packet and blamed the junior compliance analyst who had assembled it.
Mara had found the missing pages in his printer tray at eight thirty-seven.
She did not mention that part.
She had learned during two years at Calder that being correct and being useful were different currencies.
“Did you see the shooter’s face?”
“No.”
“Clothing?”
“Dark jacket, maybe gray.”
“Male?”
“I think so.”
“Think?”
“He was pointing a gun at me.”
The officer nodded as though this were a reasonable defect in her observational performance.
“What were you doing immediately before the shot?”
“Walking to my car.”
“Anyone following you?”
“No.”
“Any threats recently?”
“No.”
“Problems at work?”
Mara looked automatically toward Vale.
He stood beside the other officer, answering questions with the bored patience of a man accustomed to being questioned by people who could arrest him.
Bruno watched Mara.
“No.”
The lie came easily enough to bother her.
She had received three anonymous emails in the past week.
STOP OPENING FILES THAT AREN’T YOURS.
The first had seemed like spam.
The second had arrived after she discovered irregular vendor payments buried in a municipal redevelopment account.
The third had been waiting in her inbox that afternoon.
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
She had told herself they were some idiot’s attempt at intimidating the compliance department.
Then she had deleted all three.
The officer was still looking at her.
“No problems?”
“Nothing like this.”
That was not quite another lie.
He wrote it down anyway.
Paramedics arrived, and Mara refused an ambulance twice before allowing one of them to clean her scraped knee.
She sat on the rear bumper of the cruiser while Bruno sat beside her with the solemn patience of a chaperone.
Vale spoke to Vincent near one of the SUVs.
The gray-haired man had returned with another security guard and a mood that appeared worse than before.
Police tape went up.
People who had hidden in cars emerged and began recording with their phones.
Mara saw herself reflected on one bright screen and turned away.
Her mother would see something online if this became news.
That possibility produced a fresh, stupid layer of dread.
Her mother would not ask whether Mara was safe first.
She would ask why Mara had been in a parking garage with Adrian Vale.
The paramedic taped gauze over her knee.
“You’ve got somebody who can drive you home?”
“My car is right there.”
“Police may hold this level for a while.”
“I can wait.”
Bruno rested his chin on her thigh.
Mara froze.
The dog sighed.
Across the garage, Vale stopped talking.
Vincent followed his gaze.
“Oh, that’s bad,” Vincent said.
Mara heard him because the garage carried sound.
Vale said something too quietly for her to catch.
Vincent approached.
“Ma’am.”
“Mara.”
“Vincent Russo.”
He gestured toward Bruno.
“I’m going to take him.”
“Please do.”
Vincent produced a leash.
Bruno lifted his head.
“Come on, you disloyal bastard.”
The dog did not move.
Vincent clipped the leash to his collar.
Bruno stood.
Mara felt an absurd little drop in her chest.
Then Vincent took two steps away.
Bruno twisted out of his collar.
The movement happened so quickly that Vincent was left holding an empty leather loop while the shepherd returned to Mara and sat on her shoe.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Mara stared down at him.
“Are you kidding me?”
Vincent’s face had gone still.
Vale crossed toward them.
He did not look amused now.
He took the empty collar from Vincent and examined the buckle.
“Was that loose?”
“No.”
“Then how did he get out?”
“You saw how.”
Vale crouched in front of Bruno.
The dog allowed him to touch his neck.
There was affection between them.
Mara could see that much immediately.
Vale ran a hand over the shepherd’s chest and forelegs, checking him with practiced familiarity.
“Bruno.”
The dog licked his wrist.
“Come.”
Bruno’s tail moved once.
He stayed beside Mara.
Vale looked up at her.
“What did you do?”
Her fear sharpened into irritation.
“I got shot at and dropped twelve dollars of pasta sauce.”
“Before tonight.”
“I’ve never seen your dog before tonight.”
Bruno suddenly turned his head toward Mara’s coat.
His nose pressed against the right pocket.
Mara pushed him away.
“Hey.”
He pressed harder.
Vale rose.
“What’s in there?”
“Nothing.”
Bruno pawed the coat.
Mara reached into the pocket, expecting her phone.
Her fingers touched plastic instead.
She stopped.
The phone was in her other pocket.
“What is it?” Vale asked.
“I don’t know.”
She drew out a small black flash drive.
It rested in her palm, ordinary except for a strip of white tape wrapped around the middle.
Mara’s initials were written on the tape.
MV.
She stared at the handwriting.
Vale stopped breathing for half a beat.
Vincent said, “Don’t plug that into anything.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Where did you get it?”
May you like
“I didn’t.”
Vale’s gaze lifted from the drive to her face.
