37
Hardin promised to have Patrol keep an eye on the house in case Volkov or one of his goons showed up. He made me swear to let his team handle it. I was too tired to argue. It was nearly dawn by the time the last of the officers left.
When I was finally alone, I showered and collapsed in my bed, only to wake what felt like minutes later to the sound of my phone ringing. “Conor?”
“Sorry, girl, no. It’s Becca.”
It took a second for my brain to focus. Right. Becca. Plate numbers. “Hey, Becks, what’s up? What time is it?”
“Eight twenty-one. Too early?”
“Late night. Someone murdered Thom Hensley and dumped his body on my doorstep.”
“Seriously? Holy crap! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just exhausted.”
“Any idea who did it?”
“Milo Volkov.”
I heard her gasp. “Are you serious? Girl, you sh
