“What matters right now is that neither of you were harmed. We’ve got a roomful of cops, honey, and it seems to me there’s a reason they’ve come.”
The door swung inward and Evangeline stuck her head through the opening. “You about ready, Ashe? It’s quieting down and I could use a break.” She looked tired. Flushed. So un-Evangeline-like. She took a step into the room and staggered.
Ashe leapt over the island work table and landed beside her, circling her waist with one arm and taking her weight. “What’s wrong?” Had the hit team managed to get off a shot before they left the bakery? A poisoned dart, maybe? That would be silent enough. “Did you feel a sting? Like a wasp bite?” If by drawing the hit team to Evangeline’s door her friend was harmed or even worse, she would never forgive herself.
“Shit, Evangeline,” Rodion snapped, coming up on her other side. “What’s wrong?”
“I just feel a little faint. I’m too warm all of a sudden. I didn’t eat breakfast, and I think maybe my sugar is low.” Evangeline sounded like she always did, very matter-of-fact. She didn’t seem bothered by her weakness. “Go out there and make sure our local police don’t get any ideas about visiting our kitchen. “And Kye, you can stay and explain to me what’s going on while Rodion sticks with Ashe.”
Now she sounded like the wife of a powerful man like Fyodor. She gave orders and clearly expected everyone to follow them. She hadn’t freaked out over the dead body, and she’d chosen Kyanite to stay behind because it was going to take some doing to clean him up.
“He’s going to need first aid,” Ashe said.
“No worries. At this point, I should apply for med school,” Evangeline quipped, but she sank into the chair Ashe and Rodion took her to. “Who is he?”
Kyanite was going through the assassin’s pockets. “I don’t recognize him, but then, I didn’t meet too many of Lazar’s soldiers. He appears to have come from Lazar’s lair.” He came up with a wallet. “ID’s a fake. It says he’s from Bulgaria. He’s definitely leopard, and he was fast and strong. He nearly tore my guts out.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the man’s shirt pocket. “These are Russian. He gave up his identity, but couldn’t give up his smokes. That figures. He has three weapons on him.”
“How did he get into the kitchen when there are men patrolling and more on the roof?” Evangeline demanded.
“They’re leopard, Evangeline, just like we are,” Kyanite said softly. He pressed his fingers to his forehead. “We’ll go through this again and again until we figure out how he got in here. We’ll dam up the holes.”
He looked up at Ashe. “You’d better get out there, honey, before someone gets suspicious. A break is one thing, but both of you back here talking to us—no one is going to buy that—not even if you admitted to dishes breaking. Not if they come in often and know how Evangeline is about her business.”
Ashe pushed the swinging door outward but looked back toward Evangeline. “I think you’re all a little crazy,” she said, overly loud, and laughed. Even to her own ears, her laughter sounded a little hollow, but it was the best she could do.
She took a step toward the display cases and counter when her shoe caught her eye. She’d washed up, but she hadn’t cleaned her shoes. Drops of blood were splattered across the toe. She glanced toward Rodion, who had followed her out, and then deliberately looked down at her shoe.
“Wait, Ashe, your shoe’s untied.” He dropped down to his knee, at the same time reaching for the damp cloth that hung near the espresso machine. He wiped the drops of blood, putting a little strength into it to make certain he removed the stains.
“Thanks. I have a bad habit of sitting around with my bare feet up.” She dared to look around the bakery. The crowd of policemen hadn’t thinned out. She went to the counter to take orders. Thankfully, no one was angry because they’d left the counter unattended for a few minutes. “Who’s next?”
Ray was at the front of the line. “You should put in a deli, Ashe.”
She didn’t like the way he said her name, as if he thought it was fake. Timur thought it was as well. She liked her name. It was unusual and had been given to her by her deceased parents. That made it extra special.
“If we did that, we’d be a deli, not a bakery. Most of our customers like our pastries and desserts, Mr. Harding.”
“Call me Ray. Did you break all the dishes? It sounded like it.”
“It felt like it, cleaning up the mess. I tripped over a mop and then Kye did the same.”