She looked down at Nick, who was flat against the floor, clutching at his wound. Blood seeped through his fingers and his face was pale, but he was breathing. Hailey risked a glance around the edge of the revolving crate—but she couldn’t see the woman who had fired at them. She’d only caught the slightest glance before she’d hit the ground: jet-black hair tied back in a ponytail, some sort of dark vest over a zippered sweat suit, and heels. But there was no sign of the woman, who could be anywhere by now, and moving closer by the second.

She turned back to Nick. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t trying to move.

“I’ll be OK,” he said. “You’ve got to go. You can’t stay here.”

“I can’t just leave you.”

Even as she said the words, Hailey realized she felt them, too. The emotions surprised her; she didn’t get close to people easily. They were in this together.

“She’s not after me,” Nick coughed. “She’s after that.”

He jerked his head toward the eagle, which Hailey realized she was still clutching. She’d lost the towel, and the bronze glinted in the spotlight from the revolving crate above.

“Then I’ll toss it to her.”

Nick shook his head.

“She gets that, and we’re dead. You saw the warehouse and the hotel room. She doesn’t leave loose ends.”

Hailey realized Nick was right. She thought quickly, did the math, and came to the only conclusion that she could. It wasn’t ideal, but there wasn’t any choice.

“I’ll draw her away. If you can make it, meet me at the skiff.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, then started scanning the room, looking for the best way out. They’d come in through a locked side entrance that had been child’s play for Nick, but getting there would take her past where she’d last seen the woman. But as she looked around, she saw another way; an open door leading into a dark hall with wooden planks for a floor.

Hailey took a deep breath, kept low—and took off.

Her sudden move gave her a slight advantage; the bullet that came her way went wide by a handful of inches, shattering a framed picture on the wall behind her. Then she was through the doorway and into a much darker space. Not a room, but a wharf overlooking what appeared to be the harbor, except it wasn’t, because there were tall Revolutionary War–era ships bouncing up and down on the water. Hailey saw a pile of cork barrels in a corner, and quickly huddled behind them, hiding herself as best she could. Just in time, because as she clutched the eagle to her chest, she heard the distinct sound of heels against the creaky wooden floor.