Mickey’s headache was doing better. He’d found some aspirin tablets that had rolled under the bed. The twitch had slowed to intermittent, but everything else was still screwed up. The good news was that Dante wasn’t happy either, because it was Max, Dante’s assistant, whose body had been taken out of the chimney and was now lying in front of the fireplace with two bullet holes in his back.
Dante looked shaken, angry. “What the hell happened here? And where’s my aunt?”
“None of your damn business what happened here,” Pryce snapped. “Ross? Send someone to find his aunt.”
“Can they take her home?” Dante countered, starting to regain his equilibrium. After all, he was no stranger to the grim reaper.
“Not until she answers some questions,” Mickey said, stepping up to Dante, just hoping he’d
