Twenty-Four
One week later
Three loud knocks sounded on the gray door. Scarlet smiled at Inspector Benedict from behind the steel table. He’d been all over her from last week, lurking outside her hospital bed with those beady eyes. He still smelled like smoke. Even though this time it was from the stench of cigarettes, she hadn’t forgotten that the last time they met he’d smelled of ash and fire.
Both were suspicious of the other, but both were guilty, too.
Benedict hadn’t found a way to get the information he desperately needed from her, wondering how much she knew of his involvement. Internal Affairs had told him to stay close—no more than that. Beneath the placid surface his fear ran deep. Scarlet could smell it on him.
Another knock sounded, louder this time. It echoed throughout
