Nudging his way through the crowded gate area, he finally reached a bank of five pay phones. Each offered a tiny seat and practically no privacy. Cosmo set the briefcase down and straightened his cuffs. Now the polished professional, complete from pomaded hair to wingtips, he doubted anyone would be interested in listening to him.
His first call was long past due, and he kept his message brief. “If you receive word of my death, it’s a bit premature.”
He thought about calling his daughters, but decided Cory would get them word he was safe. For now. Squaring his shoulders, he dialed an international call.
“Cosmo? What is happening?” As always, Marko’s accent was heavy and guttural. It was pre-dawn in St. Petersburg, but he’d answered on the first ring.
“Nothing to worry about.” Mostly. “I may be out of touch for a few days, but I’m home in Las Vegas.”
“Aunt Tatiana was furious to find you’d left the country with those gemstones,” Marko said. “You know they’re an heirloom. If you lose them, she will hunt you down and kill you.”
“That seems to be a recurring theme these days.” In the periphery of his vision, Cosmo caught sight of two police officers. His eyes followed their progress down the terminal without him ever turning his head. “I only need the stones for a few days. I’ll check in again then and make arrangements to return the, er, merchandise to its rightful owner.”
“See that you do. And Cosmo? Call if you need help.”
“Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to involve you.”
“Nonsense. You are, how you say-family.” Marko’s tone was decidedly gruff.
Damn, Cosmo had always doubted the bastard really cared. He hung up and dialed his last call. Three digits.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“I want to speak to Detective Justin Hunter of the LVMPD.”
“Sir, this number is for emergencies only.”
“Ma’am, I’m a fugitive wanted in connection with a homicide. If it makes you feel better, someone is trying to kill me, but let me speak to Hunter.”
“Please hold, sir.”
Already they were recording the conversation and tracing his phone number for location.
“Cosmo? Where are you?” Hunter panted into the phone, as if he’d run to get the call. Good.
“You already know I’m at McCarran.”
“Don’t try to leave town-”
“I’ll do what I have to do to save my hide. You wanted an insider, you got your information, now I want you to repeal the APB.”
“It’s for your own safety, Cosmo. We just wanted to question you, we know you didn’t kill the guy in your car.”
Cosmo felt a pang. He was up against some serious people, people who treated others’ lives as one more marketable commodity. “Was it anyone I knew?” he asked.
“You tell me. We identified him as George Halsted.”
“Poor bastard.” Halsted had flown to Russia with him. He was the jeweler who’d verified the authenticity of the gems they’d purchased. Cosmo had tried to warn George that certain death awaited them when they returned to Vegas, but George wouldn’t listen. Donovan’s hired gun had killed the jeweler and left him in Cosmo’s car as a message. Or had the plan been for Mickey to kill him at the same time?
Mickey had asked for the gems. That meant Turner didn’t have them. And that meant Turner hadn’t left George alive long enough to ask where they were. George would have talked faster than a New Yorker on crack and spilled his guts. Sadly, he probably had done that last part, just not willingly.
“How did Halsted fit into it?” Hunter asked.
“He was a jeweler and a fence.” And a sometime friend.
“Do you still have the jewels, Cosmo?”
He glanced at his watch, knowing it would be only one to two more minutes before he had police swarming this terminal. “They’re safely stowed. Don’t let anything happen to me, or you’ll never find them.”
“Jeez, we’re the ones trying to help you, Cosmo. As long as you have those gems, you’re a walking target. Turn yourself in and let us put you in protective custody.”
“Not yet. You want to capture Turner and whoever’s hired him, and I’m the only one who can do it. Gotta fly!” He hung up the phone and walked calmly through the gate lounge before taking a seat on the other side of the waiting area just as five uniformed cops arrived. As they examined the phones and questioned the people nearby, Cosmo melted into the queue of people debarking and heading toward baggage claim.
Iris sought the sanctuary of her high-rise apartment, desperate for a few hours in an environment that was all her own. As she pulled into the parking garage, she gave thanks her business provided well for her. She didn’t need to count on anyone for anything. She earned a comfortable living, made her own decisions-she’d been on her own since her mom died. At twenty, she’d inherited Lying Eyes and its clientele, so she quit college and threw herself into designing jewelry and running the store. She’d never regretted the decision.
Cosmo had encouraged her to strike out on her own, and now she understood why. He’d had two other daughters still in high school. She wondered why he’d never told her about the others but thought she knew-she hadn’t been much of a daughter to Cosmo, so why would he think she’d do any better as a sister?
Carrying her purse and the dreaded packet of papers, she sauntered through the hot garage to the elevators, conscious that she wanted something, someone. As much as she’d needed to get away, she didn’t really want to be alone. Already she was wondering if Cosmo had been a better father to those other two women than to her. Had she been that big a disappointment that he went out and fathered two other children?
The elevator provided welcome air conditioning to cool her skin if not her nerves as she rode to the eighteenth floor. She was scheduled to meet David in an hour and, for once, she wasn’t looking forward to it. Two sisters and Cosmo’s bigamy weren’t going to ignite anything but disappointment in his eyes. She wanted to be the model wife for him, and here she was about to saddle him with more problems. She had to pull herself together so they could discuss how this affected their future together. Right now, she could barely think, much less talk, about it. She was the emotional equivalent of gum-chewed to a sloppy mess then spit onto the sidewalk without a second thought.
Foolish to react this way. It wasn’t like Cosmo had just abandoned her. He’d been doing it her whole life. “I really need to harden my heart,” she muttered as she let herself into her apartment.
“And here I was hoping to soften you up with a little gift.”
The voice from her living room, decidedly masculine and somehow familiar, scared her flat against the door. Someone had broken into her home. Heart pounding, she drew two steadying breaths while a dangerous curiosity battled with the natural temptation to flee. Curiosity finally won.
Iris peered around the corner and her pulse hopscotched again at the sight of Mickey. His dress shirt and jeans, both in black, made a bold contrast against the soft desert colors she’d chosen for her furniture, carpet and walls.
She dropped her purse and the papers onto the little table near the door. “Do you think it was wise to come here?” Thank heavens she sounded level-headed, not giddy with the potential chaos of having Mickey Kincaid anywhere near her.
“Like you’ve never caused a man to act foolishly,” he practically purred. He appeared completely relaxed as he reclined against the sage-green pillows of her overstuffed sofa. His lips curved into a knowing smile. She remembered how those lips had nuzzled her ear last night, and she wondered how they’d taste.
No. No. And no. Iris tugged off her gray suit jacket, then regretted the choice when his hooded eyes narrowed even further on her black lace camisole. She couldn’t tell whether he was giving off pheromones or she was, but the room was thick with desire.