The Book of Lies

66

Watching from the far corner of the parking garage, even Ellis had to admit he was impressed. From the moment Naomi spotted Cal’s rental car, she didn’t waste a second—popping its locks, sliding inside, and picking through the interior with the speed of a veteran thief.

From what she was saying to Scotty, it was the small, foldout rental car map that gave them away. There was a tiny black dot—from the point of a pen—on the library across the street. The Historical Society. No question, Cal’s destination.

Naomi went racing down the nearby stairwell, not once checking behind her, so it was easy for Ellis to follow. That was the problem with being desperate. It always made you sloppy.

And now, as Ellis reached the bottom steps and the cold spun like a tornado up the stairwell, Naomi was halfway across the street. Approaching the Historical Society building, she paused and looked up. Cameras, Ellis realized.

Naomi didn’t care. With a tug of the glass doors, she disappeared inside. Ellis waited a moment, then stepped out casually across the snow-lined street. No reason to run, he reasoned as he pulled out the jet injector. Everyone was finally in the same place. Both Cal and Naomi . . . he still owed them for what they did to Benoni.

Climbing the few front steps, Ellis kept his head down as he passed the camera, then gave his own sharp tug to the front glass door, which swung open and revealed a burst of heated air, dozens of antique cars, and—

The punch hit Ellis in the throat, nearly taking his head off. He stumbled back, falling to one knee. The next shot came from a kick, cracking him in the knuckles and sending his jet injector crashing to the marble floor, the vial of hemlock spilling everywhere.

“You think I’m a schmuck!?” Naomi exploded, her arm cocked back as she rushed forward and again swung down in full fury.

Ellis could taste the sour-sweet blood bubble at the back of his throat. He was still down on one knee. But this time he was ready.

And so was Naomi.

They each hit hard. With a thunderclap, a single shot rang out, booming and vibrating through the marble hallways.

Then it was over.