Iris drew a long, slow, silent breath between her teeth. She hoped it would keep her from fainting-or from screaming at that charming, scheming, lying killer. She’d personally make sure Mickey Kincaid paid for her father’s life with blood.
Mickey didn’t even glance her way as he explained himself to those guys. “I made Cosmo tell me where they were stashed. How was I supposed to know they were fake? You can’t pin this one on me.”
That weasel Jock laughed. “We don’t have to. Turner is coming over to find out where you disposed of Cosmo. And then I suspect he’s going to dump you and your pretty girlfriend right there with him.”
Pebbles tugged on his sleeve. “But I get to keep the bunny this time, right Jock?”
“Would you shut up about the goddamn bunny?” Jock shoved the giant out of his way so he could stalk toward them. He stuck the gun to Mickey’s temple.
Despite her anger, Iris squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable shot.
But Jock just laughed after a few seconds. “It’s been fun knowing you, Mickey, and Miss Fortune-well, I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to know each other better.” He chucked her under the chin, making her eyes fly open.
If her mouth weren’t so dry, she would have spat at him.
“Come on, Pebbles. Turner will be here any time. Why don’t you go pick us up some dinner.” Jock stalked back to the living room.
The giant remained behind. “Does the bunny like lettuce, Mickey?”
Iris opened her mouth, but then bit back the caustic comment. After all, she’d seen this guy hit Mickey. She’d better not rile him.
“Sure. He loves lettuce. And carrots.” Mickey’s tone remained relaxed and sincere. “And the rabbit’s name is Edgar. If something happens to me, you’ll take good care of that little guy, right?”
“You bet, Mick.” Pebbles grinned and left the room.
Mickey shouted after them. “Hey, if you’re getting carryout, bring us back something.”
She had to hand it to him. Even with these appalling odds, he was absolutely brazen.
The bedroom door stood open, light streaming in to paint a large rectangle on the floor near her chair. Mickey’s legs were gilded in the incandescent light, while his upper body lay in shadow. She’d been counting on this man, and he was a complete mystery to her. If he’d killed Cosmo… Her heart went numb as she wrestled with the implications.
From the living room, Iris heard muffled voices then the apartment door opened and closed. One of them had left. The television clicked on, though she tuned it out except for the occasional bursts of a laugh track.
Cosmo’s dead. He can’t help you. Yeah, right, as if Cosmo had ever… She blinked away useless, too-late tears. The painful part was admitting that somehow she’d hoped he’d mend his ways. Now, she’d never see him again. Never get her answers to so many questions.
She had to get away. Releasing her breath, slowly, she twisted her shoulder to an angle impossible for most people. Fortunately, Cosmo had taught her one element of magic-the art of escape. Why the hell had she been sitting here this long waiting for someone else to rescue her?
“Iris.”
“Don’t talk to me.”
“I didn’t kill Cosmo.”
The sincerity with which he said it made her turn her head and contemplate him.
“God, do you think I could even face you if I’d-” He swallowed. “If I’d done that? He’s alive as far as I know.”
“You keep telling me that so I’ll help you. But come on, who am I supposed to believe? The man who carries a gun? Or those guys-”
“You’re going to believe Jock and Pebbles over me?”
“There’s Edgar, too. He said you held him and Cosmo at gunpoint.”
“Edga-” Mickey shook his head, as if to clear it. “You’re going to convict me on the testimony of two petty crooks and a rabbit? Jesus, I told those guys I offed Cosmo because I was trying to buy your father time. The only way I could keep Turner and his men from hunting Cosmo down was to make them all believe I’d already dealt with him.”
It was a logical story, but she’d heard too many lies from him. She’d gotten that one phone call from her security company that Cosmo had entered her store, but that had been before midnight Friday. Wait, Cory had seen Cosmo on Saturday afternoon-but that still left all of last night. Why wouldn’t Mickey have chased him down and tried again? Maybe that’s where he’d gotten that drawing of the crown.
“Is that why you needed a shower at my place this morning? To wash the rest of the blood off your hands?” She barely kept down the bile that rose in her throat.
“I didn’t kill him, Iris. Look, here’s the deal.” He met her gaze, his blue eyes twinkling in the shadows. “I’m just in this for the stones. I don’t owe Turner or his boss any loyalty, in fact, I was supposed to be in and out of this really quick. Only Cosmo beat me to the gems. So, naturally, I threatened him-but I never meant to harm him. And then he got away without telling me anything, and I haven’t seen him since.”
She’d steeled herself to renounce the lie, but this sounded plausible. But then, that was Mickey’s best defense-he made everything sound plausible. “So you never intended to find Cosmo and help him, did you?”
He swallowed. “It wasn’t at the top of my agenda, no.”
“And you’ve been lying to me all along.”
“Can you honestly say you haven’t lied to me-wait, what’s that?” He cocked his head.
Iris stilled until she heard the faint chirping. “It’s a cell phone.”
They both listened. Jock’s muffled voice drifted into the bedroom, until- “What?” burst from him. He appeared in the doorway, agitation rising off him like steam. “Mickey, you son of a bitch. Did you slash it?”
“Relax. The tire’s fine. It’s just flat.”
Iris looked from one to the other, unsure what they were talking about.
“I’ll be right down,” Jock said into the phone before he snapped it shut. “Now I’ve got to go down there and help him change it.”
“Pebbles can change a tire.”
“Nah, he’ll lose the lug nuts or something. It’ll go faster with me helping him.” His good humor-if you could call it that-restored, he grinned at them. “Don’t you two go anywhere while I’m gone.” He walked away, and the front door opened and closed again.
A snuffling sounded as Edgar’s shadow stretched out on the floor. He hopped slowly into the room. There were no other noises within the apartment.
“Hah!” Mickey’s exultant laugh caught her by surprise.
She lifted a brow at him.
“I just bought us five, maybe ten minutes.” He fumbled about on the floor, trying to find a way to stand. “We just need to figure out how to get loose.”
“I think I’m halfway there,” Iris said. Gritting her teeth, she raised her arms from behind her, over her head and down into her lap. Her wrists were still bound, and her shoulders ached with the strain.
Mickey had almost found his balance when he looked in her direction and toppled to the floor again. “How the hell’d you do that?”
“Double jointed. Mom said my Nikolaevsky ancestors were acrobats.” The problem was, with her hands bound, she couldn’t rotate her shoulders back into place. She needed to get this rope off.
Renouncing the pain, she bent over to work on the cords binding her thighs to the chair seat.
“That’s great. Now untie me, and I’ll untie you.”
“Go to hell.” With her legs free, she stalked past him to the living room, intent on finding her things. Jock had left her purse and her keys right on the dining table. Beside them lay Mickey’s cell phone, wallet and gun.
She tossed her keys in her purse before considering her bound hands again. She was going to look great hailing a cab-assuming she could find a cab in this neighborhood. She didn’t have a very clear idea of where she was.
“Iris.” Mickey’s voice carried from the bedroom. “Turner’s not going to accept any excuses for me handing over fake stones. If you leave me here, they’ll kill me.”