If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [125]
Bobbie laughed. “You’re so funny! It’s just a bat.”
Bobbie’s tone changed. She’d gone from serious to humorous in less than a minute. But as Lucy thought back to what she’d said, even her threat had a hint of humor. She enjoyed it. She was in charge and she enjoyed Lucy’s fear. She’d shot Jon because she wanted him dead—but she also enjoyed how the violence scared Lucy. It relaxed Bobbie. Put her in control.
It was all about control. When Bobbie felt things were out of control, she was rash and dangerous. When she was in control, she was still dangerous, but not rash. Methodical and calculating. She could change plans on a dime, and as long as she controlled the situation, she was happy.
Lucy said, “Sorry.” She moved slowly down the tunnel. They were going at a downward angle—just steep enough that Lucy had to be careful where she stepped so she didn’t slip.
Bobbie laughed. “I wish we had time to get to know each other. We’re smarter than men. I always have been, at any rate. Smarter and sharper and more willing to do what it takes to get what I want.”
“It’s because people don’t expect women to be ruthless and in complete control of our lives.”
Bobbie pondered that as she poked Lucy with the barrel of the gun. “You might be right. Being looked at as soft and weak just because I’m a woman does give me a certain advantage.”
“I heard about your grand performance when you turned over your brother to the FBI.” Lucy’s foot slipped and she grabbed the wall. It was cold and damp. Her whole body felt frozen, and the only thing that kept her moving was the adrenaline of fear.
“Like you said, being a woman has certain advantages.”
“When I found out your brother had something on you that kept you from going after his son, I thought it might be the tape of your FBI interview where you lied about your dead husband and what happened, but this is something that he had on you six years ago, and Agent Sheffield stole the disk in December.”
“No more talking. Just walking. Hey, I made a rhyme.”
“Paul had already spilled the beans. Are you afraid someone else knows?”
“Shut up. Paul wouldn’t say a word because he’d be dead. It’s mutually beneficial that we both keep our end of the bargain.”
They came to a split in the tunnel. She remembered Jon’s words. Stay left had two meanings. Stay to the left tunnel or stay to the left of the tunnel? She shined her light down on the ground. The tracks split and went both ways.
“That way,” Bobbie said.
Lucy walked slowly, but Bobbie wasn’t patient. “Come on, move it!”
“I’m just curious,” Lucy said. If she could keep Bobbie talking, they would go slower, and Lucy was all about caution right now. Her heart pounded. She feared falling to her death far more than she feared Bobbie’s gun—and she was scared plenty of Bobbie’s gun.
“You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.” Bobbie giggled.
“Do you think that after six years, the Molina drug family would still care that not only did you kill Herve yourself, but you stole everything in his safe? And that you turned over that valuable information to their enemies?” Some of this was conjecture, but Lucy bet she was right.
Lucy had been thinking about this situation for the last twenty-four hours. She didn’t think it was a coincidence that Bobbie had made a deal with Lowell on the guns. He trusted her because she’d already been working for him.
“You’ve been working for Sampson Lowell from the beginning,” Lucy guessed.
She expected a reaction, but not a simple admission. “You are smarter than the men.”
“If I figured it out, the FBI will figure it out, too. And they have more information than I do.”
“Shut! Up!” Bobbie pushed Lucy down the tunnel to get her moving. Lucy stumbled and dropped her flashlight. It didn’t make a sound. It fell down a deep hole, the light bouncing off the ceiling until it broke or went out or was too far down to shine this far.
Lucy screamed.
“I don’t need you,” Bobbie said. “Meet the Hell Hole. You can join your fellow FBI agent Victoria Sheffield, Bitch Number One, at