“You’re lying,” snapped Clarisse.
“Just you saying it doesn’t make it so, babycakes.”
The person came into the feeble light filtering in from outside, but she still remained largely a shadow. Then she took one more step forward and could be seen fairly clearly.
The woman had changed. Greatly.
“You don’t look good,” said Clarisse.
“You, on the other hand, look amazing. Good enough to eat, babycakes, even with the dopey wig and plebian clothes. Plebian? Have I educated myself over the years or what?”
“ ‘Babycakes’ was your nickname, not mine,” retorted Clarisse.
“It would have been yours, but for me,” she said quietly, moving still closer.
Clarisse looked for a weapon on her person, even as her hand slipped inside her pocket. “Something I was always grateful for,” she said, her fingers closing around the cylinder of pepper spray in her pocket.
“Well, then start appreciating me again. We were all each other had for a long time. And from what I’ve seen that hasn’t changed. Tell me if I’m wrong. Are you married? Do you have kids? A significant other?” She smiled. “I know you’ve got nobody.”
“I had Mommy. But you have her now.”
“Mommy is just fine, never better. She’s costing me a mint in Ensure, though, but it’ll take more than that to keep her alive. She, like me, doesn’t look so good.”
“She’s had a rough life.”
“She just sat there and stared at that rough life consuming all of us. Same as my bitch of a mother.”
“I told you what I was going to do,” said Clarisse. “So I don’t know why you’re here. And I don’t know how you found me here.”
“You think you’re the only one checking out the Feds? I was on the day cleaning shift for a month and scoping out the night shift when the time came. What a treasure trove of shit that was. And then I found you.”
“I thought you’d picked up my trail on the cleaning crew at the Creative Engineering building in North Carolina.”
“I did, but I picked you up back there, too. Wasn’t hard.”
“What was it? What gave me away?”
“Okay, I’ll tell you. It was the swagger. Change the hair, face, clothes, body, but you can’t change the way you walk. At least not to me.”
“But, really, how could you be sure?”
“I’ll tell you,” she purred. “No one else on the cleaning crew went to pick up a Zippo from behind a bush off the smoking exit.”
“Great minds,” said Clarisse, her fingers gripping the pepper spray.
“So did you find what you were looking for?”
“Maybe. Does it matter to you?”
“It all matters to me, babycakes. Where’s the stash you found?”
“In a safe place.”
She grabbed Clarisse’s crotch. “Down there, right? Same old hiding place. You need a new location, babycakes.” She let go.
Clarisse drew a quick breath. Deflect and counterattack. “ ‘Do as I say’? Why use that?”
“It was his mantra. Did you forget?”
“I can’t forget any of that.”
“There you go, then. Seemed fitting, after all.”
“Where is Dougie?” asked Clarisse.
“No idea.”
“You’re lying. He was always loyal to you. Did anything you wanted.”
“If you don’t want to believe me, don’t. By the way, you gonna pull that thing you’re holding in your pocket and try and hurt me with it? Go on and try. It might be fun.”
“I was certainly thinking about it.”
“Well, think about this instead.”
Clarisse felt the tip of the knife bite into her neck. She felt the drop of blood freed from her body. It meandered down her long neck like a skier on fluffy snow. “Is that the knife you used to kill Bruce?”
“No, you’re special. This one is even sharper.”
“You kill me, no treasure.”
“Maybe I have enough money.”
“Nobody has enough money.”
She made one more small nick, her hand wielding the blade like a surgeon. “Tomorrow is promised to no one, but I’m promising it to you, babycakes.”
And then she was gone.
Clarisse locked the door, hurried to the bathroom, and checked her wounds. They were precise cuts, as close together as snake fangs.
Or a vampire’s mark.
And all done in the dark. Impressive.
She cleaned them, bandaged them.
And then threw up.
Chapter 58
Gibson was staring at her computer screen the next day when the phone rang.
That phone.
“Hello?”
“Mickey?” said Clarisse.
“Are you all right? You sound... shaky.”
“So do you.”
Gibson hesitated and then just decided to tell her. “I had a visitor the other night.” She went on to tell Clarisse about her being kidnapped and interrogated.
Clarisse said nothing for a few moments. “Nathan Trask? You’re sure?”
“I don’t know if he was there personally, but it was definitely him behind it. And don’t tell me you’re sorry because I won’t believe it. He wants the money that Langhorne stole from him.”
“He’s more concerned with the loss of face than the money. I made a deal with him to recover it. I would get a piece of the action.”
“What!”
“Oh come on, don’t act all surprised. I’m not doing this for the fun of it.”
Gibson said, “Well, I made the same deal with him. I had no choice if I wanted to walk out of there alive.”
“Winner takes all.”
“You make it sound like some sort of competition.”
“Maybe it is.”
“And why do you sound off?” asked Gibson.
“I had a visitor, too.”
“Who, Trask’s goons, too?” said Gibson.
“No. Not Trask.”
“Who then? And what did they want?”
“They want the treasure, too, Mickey. And maybe more than that.”
“Meaning what exactly?”
“Something that has to remain between me and them.”
“If we’re open with each other, it might improve our chances of survival.”
“I’m actually regretting involving you,” conceded Clarisse.
“Why exactly did you involve me? You could probably find the treasure without my help.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Only if you make it so.”
“I make everything complicated. It’s how I’m wired.”
“I’ve never heard you be this candid. That visit must have really shaken you.”
“I don’t like it when people can find me. Do you?” Clarisse snapped.
“I’m not in hiding.”
“Well, I am.”
With this stunning admission Gibson sensed vulnerability in the woman, for perhaps the first time. And she wasn’t quite sure how to play it. She decided to attack. The kidnapping by Trask’s people had lent a sense of urgency that was undeniable.
“Julia Frazier?”
“Who?” Clarisse said offhandedly.
A few seconds before, Gibson had connected the phone to her computer’s dongle and fired up her voice analyzer. She now watched on the screen as the arrow stayed rock steady.
She wondered what her next questions would do to the woman.
“Why were you in The Plains that day? Are you RE? And did you care for Bruce Hall aka Bruce Dixon aka Daryl Oxblood? RE and BD? I read it in a comic book. Just asking. Was it shocking to find his body like that?”
Clarisse ended the call.
Gibson stared at her screen where the stress arrow had crashed right through the top bar like a bolt of lightning reversing to the heavens.