CHAPTER 4
By the time Kennedy left Nick in his puddle of queasy nerves and ran to Carl’s office, Sandy was rushing down the hall from the opposite direction. “What is it, honey?” she asked Kennedy, breathless.
“Carl.” Kennedy could barely get the word out.
Sandy rushed into the room, and Kennedy followed right after. Nick hadn’t exaggerated. Apparently, neither had Woong. One of the bookshelves was toppled over, leaning precariously against the desk. Carl was on the floor at a painfully awkward angle, blood pooling beneath him.
Sandy dropped to her knees and scooped his head into her lap. “Carl? Darling? Can you hear me?” Her eyes were wide, but her voice held no trace of the panic and fear that gripped Kennedy’s heart. “Sweetheart? Do we need to call you an ambulance?”
Sandy glanced
