Chapter 21: The Parking Garage

Level two of the garage smelled of oil and cold concrete.

Martha walked ahead of us on her low heels.

Sonya had her phone out and was typing with one thumb.

"I'm texting the lawyer from my unit," she said. "He owes me. I once held his daughter's head while she threw up in a bucket."

"Sonya, you don't have to."

"I know. It's a gift."

Behind us, a steel door banged open.

"Jo!"

Trevor came out of the stairwell at a dead run, tuxedo jacket gone and his bow tie hanging.

His face was wet.

He didn't slow down until he'd crossed half the garage, and then he lunged.

His hand closed on the velvet at my shoulder and yanked me around so hard my shoe came off.

Then Nolan was there.

He didn't swing.

He put himself between us, one hand flat against Trevor's chest.

"Take your hand off her."

"Get out of my way, Draper."

"No."

"She's my wife. She's lying. I'll sue every one of you."

Trevor shoved at him, and Nolan rocked back one step and came forward again, and his jaw was white.

I knew what it cost him.

I could see the hand at his side opening and closing.

I put my own hand on his back, between the shoulder blades.

"Nolan," I said. "I've got this."

He looked at me over his shoulder.

Then he let out one long breath and stepped aside, half a pace, and stayed close.

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