Chapter 7 · The List Her Husband Hid

"Your phone's been going off for the past ten minutes."

Mark looked up from the window. Emma stood in the doorway, holding his jacket. His phone was still in the pocket, vibrating like something trapped.

"Lyla?"

"Probably." Emma tossed the jacket onto the couch. "She's not going to stop calling."

Mark caught it, pulled the phone out. Twelve missed calls. Three voicemails. All Lyla. He swiped to the first message, hit play.

Lyla's voice came through, low and tight. "Mark, if you're listening to this, do not go back to Emma's place. The shooter left a voicemail on the precinct tip line. Your name's on it. Yours and hers. Get out. Now."

Emma went still. "What did she say?"

Mark deleted the message, pocketed the phone. "We need to move."

"Move where?" Emma crossed the room, stopped right in front of him. Close enough he could see the edge of panic she was holding back. "You think running's going to help? He'll just reset. He'll find us again."

"Then we don't run far." Mark grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on. "We go to your husband's office. You said he kept files there."

"I said he might have." Emma's voice sharpened.