The Fall of East: Book 3 in the Hear No Evil Trilogy by Malone, Nana (ebook reader with internet browser .txt) 📗

"Krista," I said cautiously as I eased forward. My father was there already, and he had his gun raised at her.

"Agent Kincade, put the gun down please."

He frowned then. "No, she's a suspect."

I ignored my father. "Krista, hey. Look, you and I, we are friends, right?"

"I'm not your friend. You're a mark. But oddly, you were the harder mark. It was so easy to get Denning to talk about work. You, on the other hand, clammed right up. I was convinced you had other secrets, but no, you were just so tight lipped. How boring is your life that this is all you have? Your boyfriend is literally a billionaire. A billionaire. You don't have to work. You could be dripping in jewels every damn day of your life. But still, you go to this paper-pushing desk job and do God knows what all damn day to people like me? I'm just trying to get what you have. God, what I would do to be in your position. You have all this access, and you are choosing not to use it. That's just dumb. You're dumb."

"Krista, easy does it. You and I, we're not at odds."

"Yes, we are, because I will do whatever is required to get what you have. I'm not even doing this for the art. You know, first, it was about that. But then I realized I was the only one being noble. Everyone else was in it for the money. Gallery owners. Collectors. They all wanted a piece of me for money."

I eased forward behind my father. "Listen, Krista, why don't you let me take Margaux out of here? She's pregnant. She's no threat to you."

"Nobody moves. Oh, where's your sidekick? That beautiful man of yours? Where is he?"

"He's busy. Listen, I know you don't want to do this."

"You don't know anything. You’re always whining about your life. Your attempted do-gooder ways, which are really more about jealousy than anything. You were just jealous that he preferred me."

I winced. "Denning? No. I could see what you were. You were the exact opposite of me, someone uncomplicated."

"Except I'm fucking plenty complicated now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are. Absolutely. You fooled everyone. You win. Just let me get Margaux out of here. She’s carrying a baby.”

"You don't know me. Stop acting like you know anything about me."

"I don't know you. You showed me a facsimile of a person. I chose to believe that person existed. That was on me. So why don't you show me who you really are?"

Her gaze darted around, and she could tell that I had moved nearer to her. "I said, don't come any closer."

Margaux cried in AJ's arms.

AJ did what she could to calm her wife. "You can have the painting. It's insured. Take the painting. Just leave Margaux alone. Leave us alone."

"AJ, no one is going to die here. I need you to calm Margaux down, okay? Margaux, you need to stay calm for that baby. Do you understand?"

Another inch forward.

In the dark periphery across the hall near the bedrooms, I saw East's shadow.

And the look on his face was pure venom. Jesus Christ, he had a gun.

I knew what was going to happen, and if I allowed it, what was going to happen would destroy him.

"Hey, focus on me. Focus on me, okay? Krista, you are safe. You’re in control here, because we will choose to save Margaux’s life before we choose to stop you."

Denning's voice was tight behind me. "I don't know. I might not make that choice."

"He's lying. He will make that choice. It's our directive. So come on, give me the gun."

She shook her head. "No. Not going to happen."

And then she fired.

It was like everything happened in slow motion. She turned, ready to fire directly at Margaux.

AJ wrapped her body around her wife. And my father… My father jumped in front of both of them.

It was like something in a superhero film. Like he could use his body to catch the bullet.

Except a steaming darkness of blood surged at the center of his chest.

I stared at him even as Denning shouted at two security officers and Amelia took Krista Wilson into custody.

All I could do was stagger over to my father on wobbly legs. "Dad. Dad?" The blood kept spreading, and I knelt next to him then took his hand. "Why aren't you wearing a vest? You're supposed to be wearing a vest. That is protocol."

"Ny-Nyla," he coughed, and I tried to stop him from speaking.

"Stop, conserve your strength."

I was applying pressure. I knew it wasn't so bad. If I kept pressing right here, it would stop bleeding. I could do this. Focus. "Dad, Dad, come on."

He shook his head, coughing as blood covered his bottom lip. "Nyla, I'm so sorry."

"Dad, please, come on. You and me. We have a plan to catch Theroux, right?"

He laughed. "Sweetheart, I don't actually ever want to catch Theroux. Who would I be then?"

I frowned. "Your whole life, you've chased him."

He coughed. "Ny, the woman in the photo, she's your mother."

My brows drew down. "What are you talking about, Dad?"

"Leah Braddock, my informant, that was your mother's name before I changed it."

I blinked down at him. My active brain tried to concentrate on stopping the pool of blood, but he was saying these things, and I couldn't focus.

"Stop. Stop talking. Conserve your energy. We'll deal with this later."

He shook his head. "No. Ny, the woman in the photo, she's your mother. I changed her name."

I shook my head. "She was the informant?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She'd been involved with Francois Theroux, and well, you know, a man called Henry Warlow. She gave us evidence, and I chased him for years. But in the end, I couldn't catch him."

I shook my head. "No. Dad, no. This is not how it goes."

"Nyla. I—I am not your father."

I stared at my hand, holding compression on his chest. All around me, there was shouting and yelling. Police and paramedics were coming. I could hear