“This is Trevor. What do you have for me?” he asked brusquely.
“You’re going to be mad, but suck it up.”
“I’m not liking this already.”
She could picture him rubbing his hand over his shiny bald head.
“I have a source who was dating Rick Turner. She saw him being killed. The people who killed him managed to track her down to Florida and killed her sister last Saturday, and almost killed her too.”
“What the fuck?” Trevor roared. “Are you fucking kidding me with this? Jesus Christ, Sorensen, you’re supposed to be smarter than this! You’re behaving like a rank amateur!”
Lark shivered. Shit, maybe she really had screwed up. She’d just been trying to protect Candy. She’d been so sure she was doing the right thing, that Candy would be safe, but…
“Where the fuck are you?” Trevor demanded to know.
“I’m in Virginia Beach. I’m here with Lieutenant Kostya Barona.”
“Well, that’s something. Keep your ass planted there; at least they don’t know about you.” He heaved a heavy sigh.
“Well, actually they do. Candy gave them my name.”
The silence that came over the line was deafening.
“Lark, you’re fucking kidding me. Please to fucking God, say you are kidding me. Right now.”
Lark swallowed. “I’m not.”
“Is he with you?” Trevor spat out the question.
“No. I’m alone.”
“Get the fuck out of there. Now!”
Lark looked around the living room. Suddenly she imagined ninjas swinging through the plate glass window on nylon ropes with Samurai swords.
“Trevor, you’re freaking out. They don’t have any idea I’m in Virginia, let alone at some random guy’s house on the beach.”
“Call Barona, tell him to meet you somewhere, and get the hell out of there. You do this. You do this, this very minute. Are you hearing me? Do you have a gun?”
“Uh, no.”
“Barona will. Call him, find out where his is, and get it. Then leave the house. You got me?”
Lark nodded, caught herself, then answered. “Yes, I got you.”
“Call me the minute you’re on neutral ground. Then call me again when you’re with Barona. Got it?”
“Got it.”
The line went dead.