Sly — obviously the brains of Tweedles Dee and Dumb — pointed upward at the sprinkler in the ceiling. "Gotta move the truck before Millman pisses hisself over it."
They locked the door leading back into the club, then left through the outside door. Nick heard the keys rattle and the dead bolt slide into place.
"Isn't this just perfect?" Nick shook his head and sighed, disgusted with himself.
Margo kept stretching toward the bottom of her chair. "Can you reach the knot?"
"No." As Nick, he might have been able to, but not as Raquel. "C'mon, Séamus."
The music fell silent suddenly. "Help!" Nick even tried a shrill whistle, and Margo shouted as well. The music resumed within seconds, drowning out their combined efforts.
"We're going to die anyway," Margo said, "so tell me who you really are."
Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. "You aren't going to die. Trust me."
"Why?" They both kept twisting and squirming, trying to work their arms free of the ropes. "Why should I trust you if you won't tell me the truth?"
"Margo…" Nick stopped squirming. "I… Dammit, Séamus!"
"Tell me." Margo's voice trembled. "I have to know."
Nick squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for some kind of guidance. Hearing nothing but the infernal music and the customers' cheers, he sighed. "I'm sorry for hurting you. Damn, this is killing me." He gave a nervous laugh. "Again."
A tremor rippled through her. "Who are you?" Her voice sounded wretched.
Nick hated himself for hurting her, but he had to finish his mission. Séamus had known, and Nick could no longer deny it.
Jared Carson was the right man.
His throat clogged, and he cleared it several times. It hurt, but Margo's happiness came first. Seeing her happy would relieve his guilt, and he'd be able to watch her be happy for the rest of her life. Wouldn't she love him more for that?
He searched his memory for something only Nick could know. "Do you remember your twenty-fourth birthday?"
"Of course. What does that have to do with any—"
"Your husband dressed up in a clown suit and delivered a singing telegram." He cleared his throat and sang the opening lines of "Good Ship Lollipop." At least Raquel wasn't a soprano. That would've been too much.
Margo made a choking sound. "How did you know that? Why do you have Nick's eyes?"
"My eyes — not Nick's. I'm Raquel, remember? So he had blue eyes, too. End of coincidence."
"You… know too much. The condo. The painting."
Sacrifice… Would sacrificing his widow's memory of him be enough? Would that end this nightmare, so she could get on with her life?
With Jared?
Nick sighed, knowing the answer. It would hurt her at first, but in the long run, it would set her free. You only loved yourself. "Okay, if you insist…"
"Tell me."
"I was in love with Nick Riley." The truth. Sorta. "And he loved me."
Margo was silent for several seconds while sweat trickled down Nick's face. Intimating to his own widow that he'd been unfaithful to her was sickening, especially since it wasn't true. His gut clenched, and his eyes burned. Raquel bawled more than anyone Nick had ever known. Séamus had said Nick never learned to make sacrifices. Destroying his widow's memory of him might make up for all his other failures as a husband. As a man…
"So — so you're saying you had an affair with my husband?" Margo's voice sounded surprisingly strong. "And that's how you knew about my condo, the painting, my father-in-law… and Nick?"
Nick drew a shaky breath. He was committed to this self-sacrifice shit now — no turning back. What was pride anyway? "An affair… if that's what you want to call it." His male ego would never be the same after this. "Besides, Nick always said that you… really loved someone else. I don't remember the name now." Okay, so that's a lie. "I'm sorry I've hurt you." His voice fell to a whisper.
"I…" Margo released her breath in a loud whoosh. "I don't know what to say."
Well, now he'd done it. Margo was crying, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it, but that was the least of their problems right now. First he had to make sure she survived this nightmare.
"Let's stop reliving the past and see if we can get out of this mess," he said with a lot more cheer than he felt. "On three, try to stand and move us toward the door you're facing." It took several attempts, but they finally managed to move their chairs next to the door. Nick tried using his chin to turn the knob, but it didn't budge.
Okay, Jared. Best Nick Riley one more time and save Margo. Please.
Jared slipped into the empty office and hit a key on the computer keyboard. The screensaver of a naked woman in various poses cleared, and he ran a search for a few keywords. Nothing. Of course, that would have been too easy. Millman might be sleazy, but he obviously wasn't stupid.
A thumping sound came through the wall. Jared released the safety on his gun and eased toward the closet door. He heard muffled voices, more thumping. Cautiously, he eased the closet door open and peered inside. He glanced back over his shoulder and flipped the overhead light on to illuminate the inside of the closet.
Several file drawers occupied the closet. He'd need more time to search them. Tomorrow, before the Studfinder opened, he'd be back, unless—
The music fell silent suddenly, and he heard the voices through the wall again. Female?
After closing the closet door behind him, Jared examined the wall between him and the voices. There was a small door about three feet high behind a stack of boxes. He turned off the overhead light in the closet and crouched down to open it just a crack, expecting to find a safe or a cabinet. Instead, the door revealed an adjoining storage room.
Something weird was going on here. A door to the outer office closed, and he heard footsteps over the muffled music from the club. Jared weighed his options. The footsteps came closer to his hideout, and he stopped pondering and slid through the small door, closing it behind him.
A stack of boxes shielded him from the room's occupants. With both hands wrapped around the barrel of his gun, he rose to his knees, edged closer to the nearest corner, and saw Raquel Eastwood. Her eyes grew wide when she saw him, then one corner of her mouth curved upward in a grin that unnerved him.
"It's about time."
"Jared, thank God," the other woman said in her unforgettable voice.
"Margo?" He slid his gun into his shoulder holster and pulled a knife out of his pocket. Within a matter of seconds, he'd freed both women. "What the hell hap—"
"No time for that," Raquel said. "They're coming back to kill us after the last set." She aimed her thumb toward the stack of boxes beside the door. "Drugs. We're the unfortunate witnesses."
Jared pulled out his agency phone and hit one number. His backup should be in place by now. The man who answered eased his mind. Gary was one of the best, and he was in the parking lot, watching a pair of men who'd left by a back entrance. Jared told Gary where they were and what they assumed was stashed there. Knowing the local P.D. wasn't trustworthy, Gary's partner would detain the two thugs in the truck, freeing him to join Jared.
"Very nicely done," Raquel said. "I'm impressed. In fact, I—"
"You two get back to your table. They won't try anything in front of all those witnesses."
"Jared, be careful." Margo kissed him quickly on the mouth.
"She always did love you more." Raquel's voice cracked. "Take good care of her, Jar-O."
"Jar…" Jared's blood turned to ice. Only one person had ever called him that. "Later. Get back to the club, now. Trust no one — not even the cops."