29
Strutting through the terrace doors into Score’s apartment, Whisper didn’t declare herself. She didn’t have to.
Score spotted her within seconds. “Get outta here.”
“You boys don’t seem to be playing nice,” Whisper said, only slightly aware of Shyla coming in a dozen feet behind her. “What are you fighting about?”
“Babe…”
That warning tone was unmistakable. Zay still occupied Bosco’s phone line. The device itself, she noticed, lying in the middle of a chess board on the glass table the men were congregated around.
The suit Shyla had identified as Beeks was on the couch next to Fish. Bosco was in an armchair with his back to the window. Score was on his feet opposite Bosco’s position.
Whisper tossed some Scotch into her mouth. “I’m playing nice,” she said, continuing toward the gro
