“Before I forget, there’s one more thing you need to know,” Willow said.
“Go on.”
“Cy is still alive.”
Ben sucked in a deep breath. “I see.”
After Justin’s disappearing act, Roy had deliberately befriended the man’s son, Drew Reed. At the time, it had seemed perfectly normal. But now, Ben recognized it as a strategic move, designed to keep tabs on the Reed family in the event that Justin ever reappeared.
As a result, the Marvins and the Reeds had been good friends for many years. Although he’d never known Justin, Ben had been close to Drew all the way up to the man’s untimely death. More recently, their respective kids — Willow and Cy — had gotten to know each other. He couldn’t be sure, but he had a feeling Willow had a bit of a crush on the modern day swashbuckler.
“Don’t worry,” Willow said. “I know where to find him. He’s holed up in his family’s old brownstone. He probably figured I wouldn’t find it since it’s not in his name. I should have the problem resolved within the hour.”
“Actually, wait.” Ben paused in mid-pace. His head rolled skyward as his brain went to work.
He’d always liked Cy. But the missing trucks took precedence over the friendship. That was why he’d instructed Willow to use the man. To enlist him in a quest to find the lost Capitalist Curtain papers. Unfortunately, that plan had a downside, namely the fact that Cy might use those papers to find the trucks for himself. And so, he’d reluctantly ordered the death of his old friend.
But things had changed. And Cy could still be useful to him. Very useful, in fact.
“Does Cy know about Capitalist Curtain?” he asked.
“He helped me photograph the papers. So, yes. He probably knows about it.”
“How much?”
“It’s difficult to say. I don’t know if he took the originals with him when he fled the vault.”
Ben weighed the costs and benefits in his head. Cy’s presence would add a certain gravity to the next step in his plans. But what if he did have the originals? What if he discovered the truth about Justin’s role in the Capitalist Curtain affair and worse, decided to look into the matter?
“Focus on deciphering those papers,” Ben said after a moment. “I’ll take care of Cy.”
Chapter 33
“You’re alive?” I blinked. “You’re alive!”
I leapt onto the mattress, onto her. My body, sore and exhausted, suddenly came alive. We rolled once, then twice, all the way to the opposite side of the bed. And then I was kissing her, holding her, rubbing her, touching her. I couldn’t get enough of her.
After a few seconds, Beverly broke off the embrace. She pulled her head back and stared at me, confusion clouding her violet eyes. “Alive? Why wouldn’t I be alive?”
“Cy? Are you—?” Graham raced into the room, wielding a lamp like it was a club. He froze. A look of pure disbelief came over his face. “Holy hell.”
“Dutch?” Beverly looked at him, then back at me. “What’s wrong with you two?”
“We thought you were dead.” Sitting up, I quickly ran through the events of the evening, starting with Malware’s first text and finishing with the moment we saw — or thought we saw — Beverly die.
She listened quietly and didn’t ask questions. Afterward, she tossed her hair back, fixing it into a ponytail. “So, you really thought I let myself get kidnapped? You should know me better than that.”
“But the videos,” Graham said. “And your purse…”
“I don’t know about the videos, but I did lose my clutch.” She frowned. “Wait. How’d you know about that?”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the small, bloodstained purse. “Because we found it.”
Squealing with delight, she grabbed the purse and began rifling through it, checking the contents.
As I watched her, I recalled Malware’s first video. I remembered Beverly’s humiliating restraints and the insane fear in her eyes. That should’ve been my first clue that I wasn’t looking at the real thing. Nothing scared Beverly.
Nothing.
For a long moment, I studied her. Her hair was mussed, frizzy. Her dress, a hot black formal number, was covered with dried sweat and blood. She didn’t look hurt, but she’d clearly been in a fight. “So, that was our evening,” I said with a crooked grin. “How was yours?”
“A couple of guys followed me while I was walking to the Explorers Society. When the riot started, they went into attack mode. They had weapons, even one of those bean bag guns. Not that it did them much good.” Frowning, she sorted through her purse for a second time. “My phone’s gone.”
“Those guys must’ve taken it,” I said. “That’s how Malware first contacted me.”
“How’d you end up here?” Graham asked.
“I love a good riot as much as the next girl, but not in this thing.” She waved dismissively at her dress. “The guys who attacked me knew my name and other stuff, too. So, I didn’t want to go home or anywhere else I could be tracked. Cy told me about this place a long time ago and I figured it was time for a visit.”
“How’d you get past my security?” I asked.
She arched an eyebrow as if to say, Really? Have you even seen the stuff I’m capable of doing?.
“Actually, forget I asked.” I rubbed my jaw. “So, Malware tried to kidnap you first. When that failed, she staged it.”
“But how?” Graham asked. “I saw that last video. Sure didn’t look fake to me.”
“But it was grainy,” I replied. “And unfocused. Malware must’ve captured video of Beverly during the fight and layered it over another movie.”
He looked confused. “You’re saying she killed some other poor girl and then switched out her face for Beverly’s?”
“Actually, I bet the whole thing was staged, including the gunshot. Most likely, she stole a fake hostage movie from one of those video sharing sites. She doctored the clip to make the hostage look like Beverly and then added a grainy texture to it. And that explains why she deleted the videos from my satphone… she didn’t want us looking at them too closely.”
Graham and I returned to the story, telling Beverly how we’d escaped from Saul and his friends. By the time we finished, his eyes were slits.
“Well, I’m hitting the sack.” He stretched his muscles. A yawn escaped his lips. “You two had better not keep me up.”
As he marched out of the room, Beverly set her clutch on the bed. Looking down, she studied the soiled, bloodied bedsheets. “Sorry about the mess. I was just so tired.” She made a face. “God, I feel gross.”
“I think we can fix that.” I grinned wickedly. “How does a shower sound?”
Chapter 34
Our naked flesh pressed together, bathed in cascading streams of hot water. My hands traced down her back and grabbed hold of her rear. Her arms wrapped around my neck. Our lips mashed together, firm and hard, as if we were at war with each other.
Steam was everywhere, coating the glass doors, the shower itself, and us. I could see her and nothing else, just the way I liked it.
The water swept away the blood, the dirt, the sweat. And soon it was just us, washing each other, touching each other. I shampooed her hair and washed it slowly, enjoying its silkiness. She soaped me up, lightly teasing the tips of her fingers against my chest and my legs. And then we embraced in the middle of the oversized shower, locking together in more ways than one as the giant perforated nozzle heated up our intertwined bodies. Our climax, a simultaneous event, caused our muscles to tense and our toes to curl. Animal screams erupted from our throats only to be swallowed down by hungry kisses.