“Yeah, I will. Say hi to Dad for me.”
“I will, dearie. Now you be careful. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom.” He dared another glance up at Iris to find her contemplating him. The wariness in her eyes was still present, but it had softened. “Close the phone,” he whispered to her.
That seemed to shake her from her reverie, and she folded the phone shut.
“Get me untied, and let’s get out of here,” he said.
She nodded. Setting the phone on the table, she stepped behind him. He felt her fingers on the cord at his wrists. They fumbled for a second, then stilled.
“You’re from Boston?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He tried to look over his shoulder, but all he saw was some of her hair.
“Who’s Suze?”
“Iris, we don’t have time for this. We need to get out of here.”
“Then tell me who she is, because I’m not untying you until you do.”
He thought about lying, but that seemed like a cheap thing to do now that he understood it wasn’t in her code. “She’s my sister-in-law.”
“And Brian?”
He swallowed. “Brian was my brother. He was murdered by a gang member. Suze is his widow.”
There was silence behind him. Mickey waited, and then he felt her fingers working the cords on his wrists again. Once his hands were loose, she kneeled down to untie his ankles.
He flexed his fingers, the painful tingle of returning blood flow a welcome sensation. “Here, let me untie your wrists.” He turned to pick at the cord around her hands. “You’re helping me because the rabbit told you to?”
Her brandy-colored eyes lifted to meet his. “You were facing certain death, and you called your mother in Boston?”
He shrugged. “It was that or call the local police.” Once her hands were loose, he watched her shake out her arms and rotate her shoulders. The tight lines around her mouth eased, and he realized she must have been in pain from that crazy escape stunt she’d pulled. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, except my hands tingle.”
“Not enough circulation.” He covered them with his, massaging blood back into them. The cord had torn her skin, and bruises marred her wrists. She had to be scared out of her wits, yet she’d come back here for him. “I swear to you, I didn’t kill Cosmo.” He dared another look at her.
Seconds stretched as she scanned his face. “I want to believe you.”
“Then do.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips before tugging her to her feet. “Come on, my car’s downstairs.”
They gathered their things and Mickey scanned the hall before ushering Iris toward the elevators. Elevators were always a risk, but they were eight flights up, and Iris looked exhausted.
She leaned forward to punch the down button, but he grabbed her hand. “What?” Her eyes met his as they both heard the telltale sound of a winch in operation. One of the elevators was already moving.
“Stairs.” He took the box from her and put it on the floor.
“We can’t leave him,” she whispered.
Mickey gritted his teeth. Not that he’d expected her to make this escape easy. He yanked open the top of the box.
Edgar stared up at him, his beady red eyes glowing like a demon under the bad hallway lighting.
“Let’s get this straight, pal. You bite me, and you’re staying behind.” Mickey reached in and withdrew the rabbit.
Edgar seemed to sense the danger. He curled up until he wasn’t much larger than a football, his ears pressed close to his body, and let Mickey tuck him close.
With the rabbit safely in one hand, Mickey held out his other. “Give me my gun.”
Without hesitation, Iris reached into her bag and handed him the weapon.
He nodded toward the exit sign down the hall. “Go.”
They moved quickly but quietly, entering the stairwell. Iris’s heeled sandals clicked on the stairs.
“Take your shoes off, hold the rail and go as fast as you can. If you hear anything, don’t look back.”
Her eyes widened, but she did as she was told without question. They made it down the stairs in record time. At the bottom, Mickey stopped her long enough to make sure the exit was safe. She’d saved his life tonight, and he intended to make damn sure nothing happened to her.
Sam Turner stood in the empty apartment and swore. He’d passed Jock and Pebbles down in the parking lot arguing over how to change a flat tire, but Jock had assured him he’d find Kincaid and the woman waiting here. Those idiots down there had outlived their usefulness. He’d deal with them as soon as he took care of more pressing matters.
He removed his gloves and pulled his cell phone from his shirt pocket. This was one call he didn’t want to make.
“Yes?” Donovan answered with expectation.
“I got here, but the place is empty. They’ve escaped, sir.”
There was silence. Then- “My mistake for giving too much responsibility to Jock and his giant friend.”
“I’ll take care of them, sir.”
“They’re negligible. Find Kincaid and the Fortune woman.”
“What do you want me to do with them?”
“Kincaid’s an untrustworthy liability.” Donovan gave a harsh laugh. “We don’t even have proof that he ever killed Fortune. I suspect he’s working with the magician and the daughter. Kill him.”
With pleasure, Turner thought. Mickey always had been a little too much of a hotshot. But he wouldn’t be an easy target. No, Turner would have to track him down and find the right time and place.
“What about the woman?”
“Keep an eye on her. I think we’ll find Cosmo Fortune is still alive and still has the real jewels. Once we find him, I intend to up the stakes.”
“I think you’re nuts,” Iris said as Mickey slid the key into her apartment door. She snuggled Edgar to her for warmth against the chilled hallway. “They kidnapped me from my shop. Don’t you think they know where I live?”
Mickey pushed the door open, reaching a hand in to find a light switch. “Turner’s too much of a pro to come here. Too many potential witnesses. Besides, didn’t you notice the squad car parked on the curb? Turner won’t touch this place tonight.”
She hadn’t noticed the police cruiser, but then Mickey probably had a built-in radar for spotting them. Maybe he’d pulled that chambray shirt over his black tee to better hide his gun in case anyone stopped them. Eagerly, she brushed him aside, but Mickey stopped her from entering.
“Let me check it out first.”
“I thought you just said-”
Placing a finger against her lips to silence her, he regarded her with such serious intent that it rekindled her fear. He left her and Edgar standing in the doorway while he pulled his gun and prowled through the living room on silent feet then disappeared down the darkened hall toward the bedrooms.
She waited with jumpy anticipation, the effect of exhaustion overrun with adrenaline. It was close to midnight, she hadn’t eaten in over twelve hours, she’d been kidnapped, tied up, her life threatened-but they’d escaped. She’d never felt more alive.
She should go to the police, but feared what that would mean for Cosmo-and Mickey.
He returned through the darkened room. “It’s clear.” He stuffed the gun into the rear of his jeans.
“Now what?” She ran her hand along Edgar’s collar to make sure it was secure before placing him on the carpet.
“We get some sleep.” He scrubbed his stubbly chin and stifled a yawn.
She put up a hand. “We?”
A self-satisfied smile lit his lips and eyes. “This morning you seemed to like my coffee. And I liked your shower. And earlier this evening, I mean, we were both a little tied up, but-”
Her face warmed. “Fine. You can sleep on the couch.”
“I’m not much of a couch man,” he said in that cajoling tone.
“Too bad. It’s the best I can do.”