The Inner Circle

94

From the front seat of the white van that was parked down the block, it wasn’t hard to spot Beecher.

Or Dallas.

There are two of them now, the driver of the van thought, watching their black car bounce and rumble as it left St. Elizabeths. Two of them to deal with.

From the look on Beecher’s face, he was terrified, still processing. Dallas wasn’t doing much better.

It was no different for the driver of the white van.

It had all gone so bad, so quickly.

But there was no choice. That’s what Beecher would never understand.

For a moment, the driver reached for the ignition, but then waited, watching as Dallas’s car coughed up a small choke of smoke and disappeared up the block.

This wasn’t the time to get spotted. More important, the driver wanted to see if anyone else was following.

For a full minute, the driver sat there, watching the street and every other parked car on it. No one moved.

Beyond the front gate, up the main service road that ran inside St. Elizabeths, there was a swirl of orange sirens. On-campus security. No doubt, Nico was already being medicated for whatever mess the barber’s panicking had caused.

The driver was tempted to go up there, but again, there was no choice.

There was never any choice.

Not until the one problem that had caused so many others was dealt with. The problem that she could only blame on herself.

Beecher.

By now, the black car was long gone, zipping toward its destination.

With a deep breath, Clementine pulled out onto the road and did her best to stay calm.

Beecher’s head start didn’t matter.

Not when she knew exactly where they were going.