“Found a system to beat the wheels, Jerome?”
He returned the smile, but it was chillier than mine. “The very best, you must admit.” He looked beyond me at Lambie. “Lieutenant, where is the girl who was with this man?”
I threw it out flat. “Dead. Drowned.”
The black eyes narrowed and the ebony head moved slowly, side to side, the voice gliding from lips that barely moved.
“She swims like a dolphin, Mr. Carter. Do not try to deceive me. She is a valuable property in Miami.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the door, still open, Jeb an interested audience in the hall. With him behind my men, I couldn’t pull the Luger on Jerome. I’d get Caco and Lambie shot. I wanted that door closed and the quickest way was to make the colonel wary of the guard.
I told Jerome, “You might get a ransom for Mitzy, but I bet this lieutenant never sees his reward for me from your sticky fingers.”
The door slid shut on Jeb. Jerome dropped his eyes on the table, reaching for a packet of bills. When he held it forward and raised his head, he looked down the barrel of the Luger.
“Take what you want, help yourselves,” I told Caco and Lambie. Then, as Jerome’s hand edged toward the intercom to call Jeb, I said, “No, colonel. Roll the chair back.”
He didn’t move, but his hand dropped to his side. He looked from Lambie to Caco as their guns veered from me to him and his face tightened.
“Treachery, Mr. Carter? Bribing soldiers? They’ll be courtmartialed as soon as I...”
He was fast. I knew he would be. Dropping behind the desk, he swept his fingers toward his holster. I was a little faster, swapping the Luger to my other hand, snapping out the stiletto, flipping it. It pinned his cuff against the holster and spoiled his draw.
He wasn’t chicken, I gave him that. He’d taken a big risk and if he’d gotten a shot in, the noise would’ve brought Jeb with a shotgun. But he hadn’t and he knew when to stop. For the moment anyway. He straightened in the chair, his hands loose, and relaxed to wait for another chance. I cocked the Luger and told him to lean against the wall so we could see what he had on him.
His eyes fired hate at me but he stood up, carefully, and assumed the position. Lambie laid his short gun on a pile of bills and went over the colonel, from neck to boots. He tossed me my knife, the holstered gun, and found a little holdout in a pocket that he dropped in one of mine.
“Now, sit down on the couch and be comfortable so we can talk. Where’s Tara Sawyer?” I said.
Jerome didn’t bat an eye. He sat back, one arm over the top of the couch, and crossed his legs. He curled his lip and said in an easy voice. “Where is Mitzy Gardner?”
I didn’t have time for question-and-answer games, nor to search the whole hotel, for it was logical he would keep Tara here. I couldn’t be sure Jerome’s entire army was in drunken sleep upstairs, so I could be trapped searching for my girl. I stood over the colonel and raked the front sight of the Luger down his cheek. It left a bleeding gash and made him wince. I didn’t want to kill him; he was the only man who could control the military, and I’d still need him and them. But before I went into that, I wanted to be sure of Tara’s safety.
I told Jerome that, adding, “But I don’t mind spoiling your face if I have to.”
He was a handsome man, knew it, and was vain of it. “Very well,” he said. “I doubt you could take her anyway. Miss Sawyer is in her suite on the top floor. There are 600 men between here and there.”
Seven
While Lambie covered the colonel, Caco and I took off Jerome’s jacket and shirt, tore the shirt into strips to tie him and gag him with, and left him on the couch.
“You stay and keep an eye on Jerome,” I told Caco, showing him the remote control for the door. “Wait for Lambie and me to get there, crack it open enough for us to go through, then close it. Well put the guard out of action and go for the girl.”
Lambie shoved his gun in my back again and we went out. Jeb was studying a racing form and didn’t look up. I had the Luger at my side out of his sight. When I was close enough, I shoved it up under Jeb’s nose. While he gaped at it, Lambie used his gun butt on the round head, hard. Jeb fell against the desk, then rolled to the floor. Whether or not he was dead depended on how thick his skull was. If he did wake up, I didn’t want him opening the office door so we used his shirt to truss him, dragged him to the cashier’s cage and tied him to the stool there so he couldn’t crawl. Then Lambie and I crossed the wrecked casino, heading for the elevators.
We were halfway across the lobby when an elevator door opened, a soldier staggered out, saw our guns and tried to duck back. I threw the stiletto, caught him in the jugular, dropping him without sound. Lambie hauled him behind the registration desk. There were no keys to Tara’s suite in the mail box, no keys in any of them, so I’d have to break in and not make any noises. We went back to the elevator and I collected the two gilded machetes the soldier had looted off the wall and dropped when he died.
So far so good. Now there were only 599 military guards to watch out for in the hotel. Of course, heaven only knew how many more were outside. We rode the elevator cage to the top, and ran for Tara’s door. I picked the lock with the stiletto and we were inside before anyone showed up in the hall.
The room was stifling, the air-conditioning turned off. Tara Sawyer lay spreadeagle on the bed in panties and bra. The underwear was not all she wore. There was tape, a lot of it, around her wrists and ankles and secured under the bed frame so she couldn’t move. But she wasn’t gagged. The soundproofing of the Sawyer Grand LaClare made that unnecessary. She could have yelled her head off and no one but the men in the next room would hear her.
She saw me and Lambie. Her face contorted with despair and her mouth opened to scream. I jumped and clapped a hand over her lips, speaking in a whisper.
“Jerome’s men are here. Be quiet.”
Her eyes flicked to Lambie. She thought I was a captive too. I told her he was on our side. The blue eyes went wide, dark, deep with anger rather than fear. I took the hand off her mouth and covered her lips with mine. I let her go to cut the tapes away while she whispered a question about Dr. Fleming. Had they killed him?
“No,” I said. “We got him away. He’s hurt, but safe up in the mountains with Noah.”
“Who?”
Of course, she’d probably never heard of the old black giant or his tribe... or his bag of tricks.
“You’d call me a liar if I tried to tell you about Noah, but if we get out of this town alive, I’ll show you. Even then you won’t believe it.”
I pulled the tape off quickly, to keep the pain as short as possible. Fresh perspiration sprang on her forehead in large individual drops. Her hands and feet were discolored, purpling and swollen because the tape had been too tight. She was in agony as the blood began flowing again, biting her lips, tears starting in her eyes. She couldn’t stand and it would be some time before she could walk. Still, I couldn’t risk carrying her through the hotel. If anyone tried to stop us, I’d need my hands and maybe Lambie’s too.
I wrapped Tara’s ankles and wrists in cold wet towels from the bathroom, letting them soak in. Then brought a cotton dress from the closet, helped her to sit up and put it over her head. She looked better without the dress, but the skimpy panties and bra weren’t exactly suitable as a travelling costume.