Jerzy stood next to the bathroom, his hand raised to knock on the closed door. His face registered surprise. I took another step and drove my foot into his stomach.
He staggered backward, bumping into the corner of a table. That tripped him up and he tumbled to the ground. He rebounded to his knees. Before he could stand, I moved forward, throwing another kick. This one caught him flush in the chin, snapping his head back. He fell over backward.
I pounced on him, reaching for his throat. He raised his hands weakly, trying to fend me off. His eyes were dazed, but they cleared quickly. That animalistic anger settled back into those eyes and his hands reached up to mine.
I squeezed.
He let go and punched me in the ribs again. The pain ricocheted through my body. I struggled to keep my grip on his throat, but his huge hands grabbed onto my wrists and pried my fingers free.
His knee slid upward toward my groin, but I slipped sideways to avoid the blow. His foot found purchase on my thigh and he pushed upward with his leg and arms.
I flew up and back, landing comically on the king size bed.
Jerzy flipped over and scrambled toward the gym bag in the corner.
Gun. He had to be going for a gun.
I slid off the edge of the bed and took a step toward him.
“Jerzy.”
She’d come out of the bathroom. Her voice wasn’t frantic any longer. It was hard.
Jerzy stopped and looked over his shoulder at her. Then he smiled a mean smile. “That’s my girl,” he said. Then he glanced over at me. “Time’s up, Hero. You’re fucked now-”
There was a concussive barking sound, along with a distinct clacking. At the same time, the top part of Jerzy’s head disappeared in a red spray of blood and bone. He flopped to the ground, coming to rest on his side. He was looking right at me, eyes wide open. He blinked once, his right hand jerked and he blinked once more slowly. Then it was done. His fixed stare was full of dull hate and disbelief.
I let out a sigh of relief that was more of a groan and limped around the corner.
Ania’s back was to me as she closed the door to the room and swung the safety latch to keep it in place. Then she turned around.
I expected her to be afraid or at least wary that perhaps Jerzy might rise up like some kind of zombie or something. But her pale blue eyes were calm and resolute. The gun dangled in her hand, a small tendril of smoke rising from the silencer.
“You did it,” I said. “It’s over.”
Ania walked toward me, her steps firm, her expression flat and emotionless. Steam swirled at her feet as she walked past the bathroom door.
A small pang of sadness struck a chord in my gut.
She didn’t say word. She didn’t have to.
I closed my eyes.
TWENTY-NINE
California
The open road was the only place she truly felt at home. She drove the Miata west on a secondary highway. Not fast, but not dawdling, either. Nothing suspicious. Nothing more than a hot blonde in a small convertible on a road trip. No one would guess what she had wrapped up in a handkerchief, hidden underneath the spare tire in the trunk.
The paper grocery bag sat on the floor of the passenger seat, the top folded neatly down. Pretty plain wrapping, but it held over two hundred kay.
That had been gravy, the money. And the easiest part. Finding the slip of paper in Jerzy’s wallet. She knew it was a combination, and what else could it be for, if not the room safe at the Hilton? Jerzy was so predictable. Patrik had said so, but she didn’t realize how right he was until the end.
And now she had Patrik’s money and the diamonds, too. She had a vision of the ugly gangster waiting for her at one of his safe houses, all coked up and horny for her. He probably wanted the money more, but now he wasn’t going to get either one.
“Just stay close to him. Keep an eye on things,” he’d told her just before Jerzy came into Ambrozy’s that first time. “He’s a wild card. I need to know he’s on task. And after it is over, and we get my money back, I will take you on a long vacation. You won’t want to come back.”
He got that part right. She was never going back to Chicago. No matter how easy or how predictable the marks were in that town.
She shook her head at the thought of the Sawyer brothers. Running around like a pair of ass clowns, chasing the dreams of a dead father. What a joke.
But they’d come through in the end, hadn’t they?
Jerzy had been the easier of the two for her to kill. His mean nature played out in that last smile. The world was a better place without him, as far as she was concerned.
Mick had been slightly more difficult. But only slightly. Whether they do it for love or they do it for money, how do you really feel sorry for a mark?
You don’t.
Maybe if their loser convict father had been around to teach them some smarts, the Sawyer boys wouldn’t have made it so easy for her. But that was their bad luck. Her own father had taught her well. Well enough to play both of the brothers and the Polish mobster, to boot.
So now she had two hundred thousand of Patrik’s cash. And she’d get at least three times that much from a diamond fence in San Francisco. That was plenty. Enough to get off the grift for a while. Live a straight life somewhere warm and quiet until the money ran out or the itch to get back in the game became too much. Whichever came first.
Ahead of her, the day’s sun dipped low, sending a bloody smear across the sky. The color of red marked her destination.
Ania kept her car pointed west and drove into the dying sun.