The Book of Lies - Brad Meltzer [78]
Naomi turns, and the base of the trophy is inches from her right temple.
“Naomi!”
The sound is unforgettable.
Like a child’s punching bag, Naomi topples sideways, crumpling to the floor as a burst of blood sprays from her head. Her gun slides across the wood floor, under the bed.
“What’re you doing!?” I shout.
“She put us in cuffs, Cal!” my dad shoots back.
“She also let us out!”
“Not for long!”
“Hold on,” Serena says, confused. “She wasn’t attacking you?”
“Why would she—?”
“She had a gun,” Serena insists.
“And handcuffs. And a badge!” I shout back. “That’s what happens when you’re a federal agent!”
“She was about to shoot Serena!” my dad yells.
“No, she— How can you possibly think that?”
“A federal—? Oh my,” Serena whispers. “Is she breathing?”
“I think— Yeah,” I say, kneeling down near Naomi. “She’s breathing,”
“You sure she’s breathing?” Serena asks, her eyes already filled with tears.
“She’s breathing,” I repeat, turning back to Serena. “Where the hell were you, anyway?”
“Following. From the museum. I saw her force you out, so I thought she was with Ellis or that she was—I don’t know—Ellis’s partner or something. Then when I got here and saw that you were parked around back and—”
“Wait. What?”
“In back. Isn’t that her blue Malibu parked behind the house?”
“We parked up the block. Away from here,” I point out.
“Then whose rental car is that behind the—?” With her mouth gaping open, Serena cuts herself off.
I look at her, then my dad. No one says a word. And the house suddenly doesn’t seem as quiet as it was a minute ago.
“We need to get out of here,” I announce as my dad already starts running for the door.
I shove the wallpaper comic in my backpack and, still kneeling, scoop my arm behind Naomi’s neck. “What’re you doing?” my dad asks.
“What? I should leave her here?”
“The moment she’s up, she’ll arrest us!”
“I can’t leave her!” I tell him.
My dad is silent. From the look on his face, he has no such problem—and as he darts from the room, I’m once again reminded what a stranger he is to me.
“I—I didn’t know who she was. I wouldn’t do that,” Serena insists, and as she kneels down across from me, she reaches over Naomi’s unconscious body and grips my wrist. Her touch is clammy and unsure, but as she holds on, she clenches my wrist until I finally look up at her. “Please—I need to tell you this, Cal. This— I’m not like this. I’d never hurt anyone. I was just—”
“Serena, can we not—?”
“I just wanted to protect you,” she blurts, her voice stronger than ever.
I freeze at the words—the same words I say to every client every day. But for once— I know she’s talking about my dad, too, but— It’s been a long time since someone was protecting me.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asks, reading my expression.
I shake my head, staring down at her hand on my wrist.
“Cal, move!” my dad calls from the stairs.
Without another word, Serena helps me lift Naomi fireman style over my shoulder. Naomi’s heavier than she looks, and she looks pretty heavy. I hear the comic getting crushed in my backpack. “Cal, we need to go.”
Serena’s right about that. But as I burst out onto the second-floor landing, I notice that the back bedroom door on my left is now open. It was closed before. For a split second, I peer inside and spot two bodies lying on the bed, their necks bent awkwardly. Mr. and Mrs. Johnsel. Both dead.
“Oh, God,” Serena whimpers, the tears coming fast. But if Ellis is still in the house—
“Go!” I shout, shoving the hips of Naomi’s unconscious body into Serena’s back. “Hurry!”
The wooden stairs rumble and squeal as we circle down at full speed. Carrying Naomi, I’m off balance, but not by much. As for Serena, she’s the one who needs the missing handrails, looking like she’s about to pass out. She’s too nice for this.
Ahead of us, my dad had a good head start, but as we reach the main floor, he’s just standing there on the last step, still holding the trophy and staring at something in the living room.
“Move!” I yell.
But I