Broken - Rebecca Zanetti Deep Ops

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blood welled. “Nobody said.”

      This was getting worse. Whoever wanted Dana dead might have nothing to do with the death of her friend, considering some of the stories she’d pursued through the years. Wolfe tamped down on his anger and tried to concentrate.

      “Who hired you?” Mal snarled.

      The shaky guy shrugged, his dreadlocks sliding over his shoulders. “Dunno. It’s common knowledge we’re available for odd jobs. Cash, instructions, and a phone came in an envelope. Right to the door. More money was supposed to come after, but it never did.”

      What morons.

      “There’s nothing more here,” Mal said quietly. “Where’s the phone?”

      The blond pulled a phone off the filthy carpet. “It’s a burner, and I’m sure he used one, too.”

      Wolfe grabbed up the duffel. “I’m taking it all—even the drugs.” He’d pour them down the toilet. Wait. Wasn’t that causing animals drinking from rivers to get high? Hmm. He’d have to figure out a way to dispose of the drugs later. When the blond started crying, he felt marginally better. Not much. Who was after Dana?

      He led the way outside, his mind on the pretty journalist and not his surroundings. When the first bullet pierced his flesh, he was more surprised than hurt.

      The second bullet whizzed by his ear.

      He dove into some dead bushes as a volley of shots splattered against the house and splintered the front window into deadly projectiles. Quiet descended, and then the sound of screeching tires echoed from a street over. He peered over the bushes to the other side of the door, clamping a hand on his bleeding arm. “Malcolm?”

      His friend didn’t answer.

      Chapter Eight

      Dana finished typing the intro to her story, trying to ignore the remaining cinnamon roll on the table. Pippa could sure bake. Dana had never experienced much success in the kitchen, but she’d never really tried, either. There was always another story to chase, and this one mattered.

      She paused. It was time to diagram some of the information. Standing, she stretched her neck. Wolfe had said he’d turned the guest room into an off ice, and hopefully he had a notepad in there she could borrow. She hadn’t realized hers was full. Just as she turned, her phone buzzed. She read the screen and then lifted it to answer. “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

      “Hi, honey. Your dad wanted me to call. He’s out fishing early on the river.” Her mom’s voice was distracted.

      Of course he was. Dana turned away from the tempting treat. “I hope it’s a good catch.” Her dad was a river and fishing guide.

      “Me, too.” Dishes clinked across the line. “Anyway, somebody has been calling here for you. A man saying he has information for a story, and your dad told him to go fall off a cliff. But he keeps calling, so we thought you should have the number. Now, don’t call him. Or if you do, use a pay phone.”

      Dana tried not to chuckle, although her instincts had started humming. “I’m not sure there are any pay phones around anymore, but I’ll be careful.”

      “Is this for a story?”

      Hopefully, but probably not. “Sure. Isn’t it always?” Dana forced humor into her voice, even though her stomach began to ache.

      Her mom rattled off the number.

      Ah, crap. It was Mike’s phone number. The guy just wouldn’t give up, and now he was harassing her parents? She needed to take care of him and soon. “Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry my sources are bugging you. I’ll handle it.”

      “I’m sure—just be careful in case this has to do with one of those dangerous stories you like to investigate. By the way, Lissa and the musician broke up, thank goodness. Katie won’t fill me in on her dating life, and I believe Charlotte is dating someone, but she’s being very mum about it. Quite annoying, if you ask me. How about you? Have you had any interesting dates lately?”

      Did running out of a sex party with a hot ex-soldier count? “No. I’ve been working a lot.” What would her mom think about Wolfe? Not that it mattered, because he was just a friend. Still. It’d be funny to see her petite mother order Wolfe around. She needed to change the subject. “How’s your knee?” Her mom had fallen down a riverbank and pulled ligaments months ago.

      “It’s good. I finish with physical therapy next week, and I should be able to raft again in a few weeks.” Her mom chuckled. “Before I forget, do I need to alter your dress for the wedding next Saturday?”

      Dana winced. There wasn’t much that could be done with that dress. “How about you burn it?”

      “You sound just like your sisters, and you need to knock it off. You’ll look beautiful, and you know none of us thought your cousin would ever get married. She’s, well, a lot.”

      It was just like her mother to find a silver lining. Sally wasn’t a lot. Sally was the drama queen from the third realm of an entitled universe. “Uh-huh.” Dana pushed the cinnamon roll across the table. “The dress should still fit me. Haven’t changed much. Um, I am in the middle of—”

      “A story? You’re always in the middle of a story. This is your cousin’s wedding, and you’re being honored as one of the bridesmaids.” The perfect amount of motherly guilt infused her mom’s chipper tone.

      Really? Dana and her sisters were Sally’s bridesmaids because the whiny wench didn’t have any friends. It was revenge, darn it. She and Sally had never gotten along, but there was no excuse for that puke-green, puffy-sleeved dress. Plus, it was tight in the wrong places and wide in the others, which made her look like a waddling rotten kiwi. “I’ll be there, Mom. When is the rest of the gang getting in?” She missed her three sisters, and Katie definitely owed her a call. It had been a week, and they never went that long without talking, but things had been crazy.

      “The twins arrive Thursday, and Katie gets in about the same time you do on Saturday morning, which really is cutting it way too close. Dad will pick you up at the airport. Also, I think I might’ve mentioned the Mulvaney boys are in town and will be attending the wedding.” Before Dana could protest, her mother continued, “Your dad is coming up from the bank with a lot of fish. I have to go, honey.”

      “Bye, Mom.” Dana shook her head as she disengaged the call. “The Mulvaney boys. Right.” She quickly sent a group text to her three sisters that their mom was planning on matchmaking at the upcoming wedding and to be ready.

      Various emojis and gifs quickly blew up her phone, ranging from eye-rolling to a giraffe vigorously shaking its head.

      She smiled and turned again for the guest room. What had she been doing? Oh yeah. She needed paper to start diagramming the connections in her research because it wasn’t coming together for her. She rolled her shoulders and sucked in her stomach. The dress would still fit, right? Of course. Shaking her head, she strode around the sofa just as Kat leaped from a hiding spot behind the television. He landed on her shoulder and bounded off, rolling down the sofa and plopping on the far pillow with a soft meow.

      She looked down. “You’re as crazy as Wolfe is.”

      The kitten blinked pretty eyes, sneezed, and then started licking his paw, effectively dismissing her.

      All righty, then. “As soon as he gets back, I’m going home,” she told the kitten, who still didn’t look up. She grinned and then pushed the door open. Fumbling for the light, she stepped inside, the carpet soft on her bare feet. Then she stopped cold, looking around. “Wow,” she breathed.

      Guns and knives—all types of them—were mounted on the wall to the left, floor to ceiling. The next wall held a matching set of antique armoires that stood tall on either side of a window, underneath which was a short shelving system holding a laptop, printer, and various supplies.

      It was the final

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