Samuel Johnson walked briskly, his steps betraying an urgency that led Amanda Smith to hasten her pace, as she felt something must have happened for him to be so eager to leave.
Clueless about what was going on, she chose not to initiate conversation and simply let him lead her to the car.
It wasn't until Samuel settled into the sports car that the tension in his expression eased. His phone began to ring. Glancing at the caller ID, he saw it was Tim Morrison. Samuel thought for a moment before stepping out of the car again to take the call in private.
"How's it going?"
"Two people are dead," Tim's voice sounded anxious. The unexpected deaths of two guards fell under his responsibility as the organizer of the event, giving him quite the headache. "Their bodies were covered with the hem of the red dress you mentioned. Initial estimates suggest it was that woman's doing."
"The wounds are small, the handiwork very professional; it must have been a hired hitman."
