Page 60 of The Liar

“That’s great. Hopefully after a few drinks, he’ll relax and say something he shouldn’t.”

We strolled along the table. I paused to study a painting that had been donated to the cause. It was a silhouette of the city’s skyline from a viewpoint somewhere along the lake. Beautiful.

A fuzzy tap came through the speakers, and we all turned to the front of the ballroom. The police commissioner stood on a raised wooden platform, decked out in a black and white suit with a startlingly gold tie.

“Welcome, guests, to our annual Chicago PD Fundraiser Event.” He continued to speak, sharing a few details about what the money raised tonight would be used for and then invited one of the larger donors to give a speech.

Almost an hour later, after listening to far too much semipolitical propaganda, the commissioner reclaimed the microphone to announce that a string quartet would be playing for anyone who wanted to dance and that the silent auction was now officially open.

“You’d better get back to your new friends,” I murmured to West as the commissioner left the platform.

He smiled down at me. “I think I can spare the time to dance with my wife.”

He led me to the uncarpeted portion of the room that was serving as a dance floor. Only two other couples were dancing as the string quartet began to play a waltz. West gathered me close to him and we swayed gracefully to the music.

My chest squeezed. I’d always loved dancing with him. We hadn’t done enough of it during our marriage, and now it was too late. No matter how wonderful it felt to spin in his arms, it wasn’t real, and I couldn’t forget that.

“You’re such a lovely dancer.” West’s breath tickled the shell of my ear as he dipped his head closer.

“So are you.”

We moved together, sparks zapping along my nerves everywhere our bodies touched.

“Jo, I—”

Crack!

My eyes flew to his. “Was that a gunshot?”

17

WEST

I drew my handgun and raised it, pivoting to see where the shot had come from. All around the room, police officers had drawn their weapons and were doing the same. Including Joanna. I blinked at her, wondering where the hell she’d hidden a handgun under such a slinky dress.

That should not be as hot as it was.

A woman screamed. I spun toward the sound. Cops had already surrounded a distraught waitress, who was bent over a prone body on the floor.

Without making a conscious decision to move, I found myself hurrying across the room too. The instant I laid eyes on the body, my heart sank.

Detective Clancy Neal.

He’d been shot through the center of his forehead. His eyes were already glazing over. There was no saving him. He was gone.

I swallowed against my instinctive horror at the brutal display and scanned the room, briefly noting Joanna behind me. No one seemed to know where the shot had come from. Considering how difficult it would be to shoot someone in acrowded event like this without being seen, I had to assume that it had likely been a long-range shooter.

Checking the windows one by one, it didn’t take long for me to find the damaged one, set high on the wall facing the street.

This had been a sniper.

A shudder rippled through me. A sniper. Just like the man who’d killed Dad.

What were the odds this was a coincidence? Adam and I were almost completely certain that Neal was involved in Ortez’s dirty dealings. If Ortez had ordered the hit on my dad, could he have also gotten one of his men to take out Neal?

Perhaps he knew we were onto him. Neal had been the type to flaunt his ill-gotten gains, and that could have gotten Ortez’s hackles up.

I pointed out the hole to Joanna. “Look. The shooter was probably situated on top of a nearby building. We should have a response team lock down all buildings within the perimeter.”

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