What's Next?
“Welcome to Hell on earth,” Kyra Malone muttered as she stared at the funeral vultures. Oh, not the real type with monstrous flapping wings and scraggly beaks, of course – but they were close enough for government standards.
In their chic basic black and simpering Botox smiles, the bone-picking Austin elite had turned out to see and be seen. They mass circulated amongst the headstones because the graveside services for the city’s first murdered ADA had made the front page of The Austin Chronicle. And God knew where one slick-haired, silver-tongued politician showed up at least a hundred followed. Disgusted, Kyra lifted her glance away from the flock’s annoying presence and toward the weeping sky. That one heavenward look was probably as close as she’d ever come to angels singing and streets of gold.
Fiery burning was surely her hereafter destination.
Anna would want you to have this.” An older woman, shrouded in mourning black and tears, pressed a token into Kyra’s hand.
Fingers automatically stiffening around the shape, she swung her attention to Mama P, her best friend’s mother. She didn’t need to see the object to recognize one of her friend’s most treasured possessions – the golden coin necklace surrounded by baguette diamonds.
Days of suppressed tears scalded her throat and threatened her hard-won composure. Long seconds ticked into a harsh minute before she shoved away the weakness and instead focused on the small auburn-haired child nuzzled against her legs. Petite, delicate fingers trustingly burrowed against Kyra’s palm, and she tightened her hold to give sanctuary to the child with her grip.
“It’s time for the two of you to go,” she told Mama P. “Your bags and Kendra’s are already in the car. Snacks, toys, everything she’ll need for the trip. No stopping for sightseeing.” She tweaked the child’s silky ponytail. “And you, missy, don’t give Gram too much trouble.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone.” Mama P looked prepared to battle the point again. “You know your lawyer status isn’t some magical cloak of invincibility, don’t you? Even those connections you have at the capitol may run for cover when you poke the hornet’s nest.” The older woman’s round cheeked face lined suddenly, aging her prematurely. “Promise me, Kyra, not to do anything foolish. . .”
Mama P trailed off. There wasn’t a need to say more. What Kyra had planned would be considered rash on the best Sunday and blatant career suicide come any Monday morning. It didn’t matter.
The moment Anna had been murdered they’d given her no choice. A debt was due, and she would make certain it was collected.
Bending, she kissed the child then glanced between the faces of the two people she truly loved and did the only thing possible – she lied with her promise.