I managed a smile in return, but was so not in the mood to be patronized. “Oh? Do they get tired of a used up, has-been princess who’d spread her legs for anyone?”
She laughed, but there was no amusement in it. “Not as tired as they get of a cock-tease whose legs have to be pried open with a crowbar.”
I batted my lashes and smiled sweetly. “I’d rather hand out crowbars to pry open my legs than ‘now serving’ tickets to the turnstile in my vagina.”
I caught a brief glimpse of Snow’s enraged expression just before Nicky stepped in front of me, his chastising look negated by his unsuccessful attempt to smother a grin. “Try to play nicely,” he whispered. “We need information, remember?”
I rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh. It might’ve been a lot easier to let Snow’s insults roll off my back if I hadn’t known that she’d wanted to be flat on hers with the man I was not-so-secretly in love with. And to see her standing there in her black negligee, looking absolutely stunning and sexy, while I stood there pouting in my boring-as-hell jeans, sweater, and standard issue pea coat didn’t help boost my confidence in spite of all Nicky’s assurances he wasn’t—and never had been—interested in the sultry madam. At least I’d traded my snow boots for the lug-soled biker boots Lavender and Seth had sent me for Christmas. That was something, I guess.
Beatrice . . .
My head snapped around toward the sound of the voice that seemed to be just over my right shoulder.
“Trish?”
She’s not the one he wants, the voice reminded me. She’s not the one I want. . . .
“Trish,” Nicky said again, taking hold of my arms and bending to peer into my face intently. “You okay, doll?”
I glanced over my shoulder again, half expecting to see the mystery man slipping out of the shadows to stand beside me and laugh at the confused expression on my face. But of course there was no one there. I gave my head a quick shake, then offered Nicky a weak smile. “I’m fine.” He looked unconvinced, so I patted his chest lightly and forced my smile to be a little stronger. “Really, Nicky, I’m fine.”
Snow coughed pointedly behind us. “Did you actually want to see me, Nicky, or were you and your girlfriend planning to pay for a little fun? I have a business to run. And, frankly, darling, as reluctant as I am to turn away a paying customer, I’d much rather tell you to go fuck yourself.”
“Playing nicely, was it?” I snarked at Nicky.
He groaned and took my hand in his, keeping me close to his side when he turned around to face Snow. “Maybe we could chat in your office?”
Snow inclined her head and pivoted with a flounce of black chiffon, motioning us to follow. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”
“Works for me,” Nicky said with a shrug. “Might want to ask Aloysius to join us.”
Snow visibly stiffened, but she didn’t even spare a glance over her shoulder as she glided down the hall. “Why ever would you need to speak with Ally?”
“Tim Halloran’s dead,” Nicky told her.
This brought Snow’s feet to a halt. She waited just a beat before turning around, no doubt to dampen the joy she felt at hearing the crime lord had bought it. “How very unfortunate.”
“What’s unfortunate is that Sophia is dead as well,” I said, watching her expression. “She was killed in an Agency raid on the compound. A raid from which your lover was curiously absent.”
She cast a quick glance up and down the hallway, then grabbed Nicky’s arm and pulled him after her as she hurried down the hall. I found myself jogging again to keep up and was glad when Snow threw open a set of intricately carved double doors and ushered us inside. I was a little shocked at the opulence of the room, from crystal chandelier to plush furniture, but my shock paled in comparison to what Snow apparently was experiencing.
“There must be some mistake,” she said, not nearly as confident now as she’d been in the hallway. “Sophia wasn’t supposed to be harmed. That was the deal.”
Nicky gave her a stern look that would’ve shaken even the most hardened criminal. “I think you’d better start talking.”
“Ally has been trying to get out from under Halloran for years now,” Snow explained. She sat on her white settee, her head hanging. “He’d been skimming from Halloran’s coffers, saving the money so that we could start a new life together. But after all the shit with Sebille Fenwick two years ago, Halloran started watching things much more closely. Ally and I had to put our plans on hold.”
“So you thought you’d have the Sandman knocked off?” Nicky demanded.
She lifted her head, her eyes pained. “It wasn’t like that,” she retorted. “Someone approached Ally and asked him to set up a meeting with Halloran. They had a business proposition for him.”
“And was this someone from the Agency?” I asked.
Snow nodded. “It was some guy named Norman Fredericks. Ally said he used to work for Halloran but had gone to work for the Agency.”
Nicky shook his head. “That fucking ferret.”
“Ally said Halloran came back from the initial meeting talking about how a new day would soon be dawning,” Snow continued. “He told me the Sandman said the deal he’d been offered was huge, that it would change everything. Ally was worried that if Halloran became even more powerful, we’d never get out from under him.”
“What was the deal?” I questioned. “Did Aloysius tell you?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t know the specifics, but he thought it might have something to do with supplying fairy dust to the Agency.”
I heard Nicky curse from his seat next to me, putting into words exactly what I was thinking. If the Agency was trying to get their hands on fairy dust, which had been expressly forbidden by their treaty with the FMA, there was no telling what they were planning.
“So how did the deal go south?” I prompted.
Snow heaved a long sigh. “Ally—”
“Olivia.”
Snow bolted to her feet at the sound of her lover’s voice. And so did Nicky, his gun already in his hand and aimed at Aloysius as the gangster emerged from his hiding place in Snow’s closet holding a gun of his own.
Late to the party, I shot to my feet as well, glad Nicky had insisted I bring along the pistol tucked in my waistband. For the moment, I left it where it was, though, as a tactical edge.
“Don’t say another word, baby,” Aloysius ordered, slowly circling around to where Snow waited, her expression growing increasingly panicked.
“Ally, please,” she begged, clasping her hands together at her chest. “Just tell them what happened. You did nothing wrong.”
Aloysius grunted. “Tell that to the FMA. I’m not letting them pin Sophia’s murder on me.”
“It’s only a matter of time before Red Little comes calling,” Nicky told him. “Do you want to deal with her instead?”
Aloysius snorted with laughter. “She’s pregnant!” he retorted. “What’s she gonna do?”
“She could still kick your ass, and you know it,” Nicky insisted. “Now put down the gun and tell me what the hell happened with Halloran’s deal. I’d hate to have to shoot you and ruin Snow’s white carpet.”
“Ally, listen to him!” Snow entreated. “Please, baby—for me.”
Aloysius’s grip tightened on his gun for a split second, but then he held up his hands and let it slip down onto his finger. I rushed forward and took the gun, ejecting the magazine and the bullet in the chamber before tucking it into my coat pocket for safekeeping.
“Looks like you gotta brain after all,” Nicky said. “Now sit your ass down and start talking.”