Page 79 of Lion & Lamb

LION: I’m down here right now. Guess who else is here?

LAMB: Bernstein.

LION: Yep.

LAMB: Thank God.

LION: ?

LAMB: If he’s there, that means he’s not stalking me and looking for an opportunity to have me arrested or shot.

LION: ??????

LAMB: Long story. But wait, why is he there?

LION: We have a dead NFL superstar, a dead celebrity chef, and a dead Atlantic City hostess. The first two are murders, and I’m pretty sure the third is one too.

LAMB: And Mickey Bernstein just happens to be there in record time for every killing. You should ask him why that is.

LION: Tried that already. He told me I should steer clear of this for my own good. He said he was telling me because we’re old friends.

LAMB: I didn’t know you two were close.

LION: I didn’t either. I’d be tempted to ask him out if it weren’t for that triple-homicide thing.

LAMB: Seriously? You think Bernstein killed all three of them? I mean, Mickey had a head start on Archie’s murder, but I don’t think he pulled the trigger himself. Victor tracked his movements.

LION: Even detectives have partners.

LAMB: So now it’s a conspiracy?

LION: It already was, by definition.

LAMB: Touché. But we have nothing solid tying Mickey to any of these killings. If anyone has a reason to show up at a murder scene, it’s a freakin’ murder cop.

LION: So you think Bernstein is innocent?

LAMB: Hell no. He practically has a neonGUILTYsign over his head. But we need to prove it.

LION: Two potential witnesses have been killed. Who else is left to squeeze?

LAMB: We make the rounds again. And this time, we squeeze harder.

Saturday, January 29

Chapter83

CONFIDENTIAL DOCUMENT FROM JANIE HALL TO VEENA LION, FOUND ON AN ENCRYPTED SERVER

Okay, V., consider this file extremely private and incredibly confidential. This is why I’m not texting you this information. If you have a place where you keep supersecret information—stuff so secret you don’t even tell me about it—put the contents of this entire folder in there. RIGHT NOW.

This is because I’m about to admit to a crime.

First, my justification for the crime, then the crime itself.

I went home yesterday thinking a lot about Roz Cline. The woman who was about to become my new best friend. Her sudden death…her murder…hit home in a way I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t want it to be for nothing. She deserves better than that.

But the truth is, she’s just a bit player in the murder of the century. And the people on the other side—whoever they may be—aren’t playing fair. So why should we? This, then, is the motive for my crime. (Crimes, actually.)

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