Owen stepped under her arm to steady her. “Whoa. Whoa. Are you going to lose it?”

Marcelline was okay enough to shake her head. She sucked in a deep shuddering breath.

Owen was looking into her eyes, holding her. For a glinting instant, she wanted there to be more. More to ask. More to know. More time. But her want deflected off something in him, a wall. A cancellation. And her want was gone.

He steadied her. “Okay, good. We really have to get out of here. And we have to get that out of here.” He ticked his head at Jonathan. “Help me.” Owen walked over to the body and looked back, surprised not to find her at his shoulder. “Come on. You can hold his legs, if the rest of it bothers you.”

When Jonathan was packed away with the burned garment bag and Owen’s jacket, they covered the burned seat with the ruined tuxedo.

Owen bent the game box into a scoop and headed back to the red grass. Marcelline closed her eyes against knowing any more about what he raked from the trampled ground. He dashed back to Roy’s pyre, with a Monopoly box top full of gore. He tossed it in. Jonathan’s brain burning in the fire he’d started. Her legs made the case again for folding. She resisted.

Owen came back from a quick scan of the area. He seemed satisfied. “I can call someone in to take care of this, but I need you to drive the car to the airport. Just park it, leave the keys in the ignition, and get away fast. Text me the space number as soon as you can. Someone will be on standby to get in right after you. I’ll pick you up. And then you’re done. This is done.”

She could only look at Owen in wonder.

“Okay?” he said.

“What about Carly?”

“I’ll take her. She’s waiting for me. She needs to go home.”

“But I can’t just leave it like that. I have to talk to her. I have to help her with this.”

Owen ticked his head to the side. “I know that. What did you think I was going to do? Let you drive my car? Again?”

Owen being funny. Jonathan dead. The Flinck in her hands and then gone. The gray threatened at the edge of her vision again.

“Can you do this?”

“I’ve got it.” Marcelline rifled through her battered purse for her hotel key. “Go get Carly. Meet me at the Marriott across from the Y. Room 311.”

“She’ll be fine. I’ll talk to her. See you soon. Don’t get pulled over.”

Samantha would approve of Owen’s advice. She closed her eyes and felt the balance in her mind. Marcelline found her handhold on the last part of the story. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO