“You cannot get away.” From the sound of his voice, I guessed that Yuri hadn’t moved far from where we’d started out, but it was hard to tell. The ceilings were open and high, and his words ricocheted against the redbrick walls and the hardwood floors. “It will be easy to find you here.”
I flattened my back against a cold, stone sculpture. “I was lying when I said I had the disc with me. I left it somewhere. Somewhere safe. And without me, you’ll never find it. Then you won’t have Drago’s inventory. That’s what it is, isn’t it? An inventory list of guns?”
Maybe I was imagining it, but I think the fact that I knew about the guns stunned Yuri a bit-he didn’t say anything for what seemed like an eternity. When he did, his voice came from somewhere on my right. Too close for comfort. I moved from the shelter of the sculpture.
“I hope for your sake that you do not think this is the smart way to deal with our little problem,” he said. “You will only make this harder on yourself. Harder on you and harder on her.”
In a flash, the overhead lights came on. I was blinded for a moment, but that moment dissolved all too quickly. When it did, I saw that Yuri had one hand on the light switch. He had dragged Eve to her feet and was holding her upright with his free arm. Her eyes were still closed, and she could barely stand-she swayed back and forth as if she were drunk. Yuri put the gun to Eve’s head.
“The disc,” he said. “Now. Or your friend dies right here, right now, right in front of your eyes.”
He might have been bluffing, but I wasn’t willing to take the chance. Not with Eve’s life.
I kept my place and held the disc out to him. “Here. Come and get it.”
“Bring it to me.”
“Move away from Eve.”
Yuri laughed. “You try so hard to bargain. I am impressed, Miss Capshaw. Who would have thought that a bank teller could be so tough? But there will be no bargaining. Just as there is no escape. You know too much.”
“You mean about the guns.”
“The guns, yes. The guns Drago was smuggling into this country. He did not want to share the profits, you see.”
“And you figured since you were partners in the gallery, you should be partners in the gun business, too. Except…” Another light went on, this time inside my head. “You weren’t partners in the gallery. You were the one who trashed the place looking for the disc, and when you didn’t find it, Beyla had to come back to look.”
“Very good.” Yuri’s smile was anything but friendly.
“And Tyler, he said something once about how now that Drago was dead, the gallery was closed up. I should have known right then and there. He didn’t just mean it was closed for the day. He meant it was closed for good, and that means that you and Drago were never partners. You were trying to take over his turf in the gun-smuggling business. You and Beyla.”
“If only you had put as much thought into your silly investigation as you are now. Then, perhaps, you would not have trusted me so much. But you didn’t. And now…” Yuri had the nerve to shrug, like we were discussing something no more important than the weather. “When the police find your bodies here, they will be baffled, yes?”
“Not so surprised. They know it is you, Yuri.”
This voice came from somewhere in the shadows behind Yuri. It was distorted by the echo. Man? Woman? Neither of us had the time to analyze. His finger on the trigger, gun raised, Yuri spun around, but the person standing in the shadows had the jump on him. There was a flash, and a shot cracked the air. The noise was still bouncing off the walls when Yuri tumbled to the floor, taking Eve with him. They landed together in a heap on the hardwood floor, on top of a trickle of blood that was quickly turning into a pool.
For the third time in as many minutes, I didn’t stop to think. I raced over to Eve, kneeling beside her and cradling her head on my lap. Thank goodness, except for some polka dots of blood that had spattered from the bullet that went clear through Yuri, she looked none the worse for wear. I managed to pull her aside a few feet, away from the growing circle of blood. And Yuri’s corpse.
“You are all right?”
I looked up just as Beyla stepped out of the shadows, and a new instinct took over. This one was self-preservation.
All I could think about was that Beyla still had a gun in her hands. And one look at Yuri’s lifeless body was all I needed to remind myself that she knew how to use it.
“You! You… you shot him.” My voice bumped over the words in time with the heartbeat knocking around my chest.
Beyla’s expression was grim. She cast a glance at Yuri’s body with blank, emotionless eyes. “He would have killed me,” she said. “And you and Eve as well. Like he killed Drago. Like he killed poor Magda.”
Nothing was making sense. I took in a breath as I sat back on my heels. “I know he killed Drago, but don’t deny that you were in on it, too. You and Yuri were trying to take over the gun-smuggling business. Is that why he wanted you dead?”
Beyla’s top lip curled (in a beautiful and exotic way, of course), and she barked out a laugh. “Guns! They are nothing to me. The money is nothing. If you understood this, you would know that I could have nothing to do with Drago and his guns or Yuri and his killings.”
“Then what about the disc? What about Yuri? He said-”
“Yuri is scum. Like Drago.” Beyla spat on the floor. It was so uncharacteristic a gesture from a woman who was so calm and beautiful, it sent a wave of fear through me. She must have known it, because she set her gun on the sales counter. “You still do not understand,” she said.
Understatement.
“But you had the foxglove.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “As a talisman. You know what this is? I carry foxglove for protection.”
“You mean, like a spell?” We were in deep waters now, and I was having a little trouble catching my breath. Gently, I moved Eve off my lap and got to my feet, all the while keeping an eye on Beyla and on the gun on the counter. As long as the two of them (Beyla and the gun, not my eyes) weren’t anywhere near each other, I could breathe a little easier.
“You mean you really are a witch, just like Eve thought?”
Beyla laughed. “There are those who would use the word to describe me. I am Gypsy. I know the secrets of the old way of life. I am not using the foxglove to protect myself, but to protect my family. Back in Romania.” She pulled in a breath and let it out again, apparently ordering her thoughts.
“Drago, he hired me to take care of the books for the gallery.”
I thought back to something Yuri had told me. “Then you weren’t lovers? Back in Romania?”
I guess the wave of revulsion that shivered through Beyla was answer enough. “I am accountant,” she said. “I do this for businesses owned by Romanians. It is easier to handle their business because we speak the same language. I was doing accounts-this is how I found out about Drago and the guns. I made a copy of the information.”
I glanced down at the disc I was holding. The Sinatra jewel case sparkled with tiny drops of Yuri’s blood. I dropped it like it was on fire and wiped my hands on my pant legs. “That’s what’s on the disc. The information you copied.”
Beyla nodded. “I told Drago I would keep this secret, but he must do something for me in return. Drago is rich and powerful. I tell him he must use his influence to get my family to this country. He said he would, but he lied. This is what we argue about, that night the cooking class started. I was very angry.”
Beyla drew in a breath. “Drago thought I would give up, that I would be intimidated by him. I was not.”
“And Yuri killed him to take over the smuggling business.”
“Yes.” Beyla’s brows dropped over her eyes. “And Yuri…” She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “He is even worse man than Drago. He realized I knew what was going on-Drago told him. The night they had dinner together at Bucharest.Yuri knew about the disc, too, and he wanted it. This is why he tried to frighten me at cooking school.”