"Oops." He clicked his fingers. "I remember. Da wanted you to shut her up."
I grimaced.
"What’s she doing here? Why isn't she 'shut up?'"
"I don’t know." I peered over at the helipad, answering the first question while ignoring the second. "How do you gain access to that?"
"Those stairs."
"There has to be another way. Unless she flew in, which we know she didn’t, or if she was waiting there since the last helicopter flight."
"I doubt it. The last time it was used, it was—" He paused. "Oh."
"Oh?"
"Savannah Daniels. That’s her, right?"
"It is. How do you know?"
"She recently moved in beneath me."
"Unlike you to know that," I pointed out. I mean,Iknew that but it was unusual for Conor to know too.
"Her dad got in touch with me. Asked for a favor."
"What kind of favor?"
"His wife was rushed to the hospital in Philly. He needed his daughter there, stat. I obliged and that was how I learned about Savannah."
"Very philanthropic of you," I murmured.
"Not really. He promised to send me tickets to a concert. It was the week before you darkened my door." Conor beamed. "That was an awesome show."
"Of course, her dad’s Dagger Daniels." I snorted. "noxxious. How could I forget?"
His chin jutted out. "You could have tried to score me some tickets from her before."
"What? While I was trying to convince her not to write that exposé? While also not killing her like I was supposed to? Yeah, Conor, you meeting her folks was my priority.
"Anyway, stop fucking talking. Look at her."
"Iamlooking at her."
"I mean, check her out."
"I did. She has nice tits."
I growled under my breath. "Conor, my patience is wearing thin."
"You’re not Da, you know?" He peered at me. "I’m not scared of you."
"Fucking should be."
His lips curved but he crouched down at her side, then pulled out his phone from his pocket. He turned the screen on, then pressed it to her mouth.
"She’s breathing, Conor. We don’t need to do that test," I said wryly.
"Just checking."