Lying Eyes

by Amy Atwell

  Hands grabbed her from behind.

  Panicked, she fought them off until she realized they belonged to Allie.

  With those large eyes, she scanned the store. “It doesn’t feel right. Let’s go to the back.”

  A new wave of adrenaline kicked in, and Iris raced her sister to the service corridor and down to the store’s back door.

  “Iris, wait!”

  She ignored Allie’s plea. Concern for Mickey made her fearless as she wrenched open the door and straight into the arms of a strange man. She had a moment to register a lean face and a determined hunter’s gleam in his dark eyes. Before she could reverse her course, he grabbed hold of her arms and lifted her off the ground.

  “Well, this must be my lucky night. It’s good to see you, Iris Fortune.” Though polite, his words sent horror racing up her spine.

  She kicked at him, but the rubber-soled running shoes didn’t seem to do as much damage as her high heels might have. When the cold metal of a gun’s muzzle touched her throat, she stilled. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground.

  “Good girl. Let’s go quietly.”

  “Who are you?” But God help her, she knew. This must be Turner. She was going to die.

  “We’ll talk later. For now, you need to walk quietly with me.” After she nodded, he pushed her along as he made his way slowly down the empty corridor.

  The silence made it possible for Iris to hear her heart pound. She forced back the tears. Not now. She had to figure out a way to get away. She had to find Mickey.

  A sudden impact from behind drove Turner into her back with force. Air whooshed out of his lungs as he stumbled, allowing Iris to break free. Iris spun about, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of Allie launching a high kick to Turner’s ribs. With her blond braid flying behind her, she bounced on her toes and held her fists at the ready like a real boxer. And the angry scowl on her face was one Iris wouldn’t want to mess with.

  Turner didn’t seem as concerned. When Allie launched her next kick toward his head, he captured her foot and yanked her off balance.

  Seeing her sister fall in his path, Iris leaped onto his back. “Leave her alone!”

  “Goddammit, get off me,” he growled while her fists pummeled him. She thought she was making progress until he backed up and slammed them both into the wall. Her head snapped with the impact, and everything went dark. She barely maintained her feet as she lost her grip and fell off his back.

  While her vision cleared, she waited for another blow or maybe that final gunshot. Where was Allie? Had her sister escaped?

  Turner came at her with the gun, his lips curled back to issue some last deadly threat. And then he jerked to a stop with a grunt as the gun clattered to the concrete floor. Slowly, he turned his head, and Iris’s eyes widened. A knife protruded from his arm. They both looked down the corridor.

  “Hold still, Iris.” Sergei stood thirty feet away, another knife held high in his hand as he took aim.

  He throws knives? Iris squeezed her eyes shut, but she felt the draft of air and heard Turner’s footsteps as he retreated down the hall at a good clip.

  Allie grabbed her hands. “Iris, are you all right?”

  From the other direction, Sergei approached at a jog. “Should I go after him?” He grinned, enthused at the idea of continuing the hunt.

  “No. We need to find Mickey.” She pulled her sister with her, leaving Sergei to follow. Entering the store, Iris unerringly found the switch and bathed the workroom with light. Desperately, she looked about.

  Allie headed for the sales area but stopped at the doorway. “Iris, here.”

  Iris stumbled forward to find Mickey crumpled on the floor. Blood covered his shirt from his left shoulder down.

  Iris kneeled to check his pulse. “Mickey?”

  An unnatural pallor had replaced his glowing tan. That sharp awareness in his eyes had gone dull and didn’t seem to focus until he recognized her. He conjured up a shadow of his pirate’s grin. “I’m sorry. He got away.”

  She laid a hand against his jaw, holding it steadily, lovingly. “Hang on. I’m here.”

  He shifted and pressed his cell phone into her hand. “Call my parents,” he said before closing his eyes.

  She choked down a sob, so afraid this might be her only chance to tell him. “I love you, Mickey. Whatever you do, don’t leave me.”

  ***

  The drive to the hospital was surreal. Officer Foote didn’t turn on the siren, but he had all the blue lights flashing as he easily topped eighty down Tropicana Boulevard. Iris put her life in his hands while she recalled those horrific moments after finding Mickey covered with blood. Allie had been so level-headed—she’d tried to call EMS, but before the call connected, a medical team arrived, along with Bellagio security, and Hunter was there, and there was nothing left for Iris to do but watch them wheel Mickey away. She covered her mouth with her hand to hold back a sob as Foote pulled into the hospital entrance.

  Seeing the words Emergency Room on the sign chilled her. She hesitated a moment, remembering her last visit to an ER—thankfully, it had been to a different hospital. That had been the night her mother had the car accident on I-15. Eight years ago, but in high-stress moments like these, it felt like yesterday.

  She drew a long breath to steady herself, then followed Foote through the automated doors where the distinct smell of sterility assaulted her. A baby cried in the waiting room, though none of the half-dozen people sitting there seemed to notice. She scanned the faces, even though she knew Mickey wouldn’t be here.

  “We got here as quick as we could.”

  Iris turned at Allie’s voice. She and Cory both looked paler and more tired than earlier this evening. They’d all started out with such hopes.

  “You didn’t catch Cosmo then,” Iris said to Cory.

  “I swear, he disappeared into thin air.” She sounded chagrined as she pushed her heavy curls back and glanced around the waiting room. “Did Sergei come with you?”

  “I left him at the store. Security and police will be all over it because of the shooting. He said he’d keep an eye on all my stuff.”

  “That store’s your livelihood. Shouldn’t you be there?”

  “My place is here.” It calmed her to accept that truth. Wherever Mickey was, if he needed her, that’s where she belonged.

  Allie wandered past the admissions desk, her arms folded against the full-force air conditioning. Turning to look back over her shoulder, she called out to them. “Justin’s down this way. Come on.” She led them back to another, quieter waiting room. The room was empty save for Hunter, who rose when he saw them.

  “Tell me,” Iris said.

  “They’ve taken him into surgery. I was hoping you’d get here before they sedated him.”

  “Trust me, Foote tried.” Iris allowed Cory to lower her onto a sofa. “How’d you get there so quick?”

  “Cosmo called 911 to report shots fired and an officer down. That’s what probably saved Mickey. He’s got a gunshot wound to the shoulder, and he hit something that cracked a couple ribs. He was going into shock when the paramedics got to him.”

  “Will he—”

  Hunter seemed to zero in on her terror. He reached for her hands, sharing his own strength and warmth. “Sure he will. The surgery is pretty minor. The docs just want to take a look around, see if there’s any damage in his shoulder. He should be his old cocky self by daybreak.”

  Iris slumped against the back of the sofa and buried her face in her hands. Three steadying breaths later, she felt almost confident that she wouldn’t burst into tears. Almost. She folded her hands in her lap. “Where’s Foote?”

  Hunter rubbed his tired eyes. “I told him to get some sleep. I figure you’ll be here with me for a couple hours.”

  Iris swallowed, glad she didn’t need to draw him a picture.

  Allie blew out a breath. “What a night. Foote didn’t have any luck catching those two thugs?” She threw Cory a look as the two of th
em sat on the opposite sofa.

  “What thugs?” Hunter asked.

  “Jock and Pebbles were chasing Cosmo,” Iris answered. “Foote said they all got away.”

  “Hey, it’s not like we didn’t try,” Cory said. “Cosmo went one way, those guys went another, so Foote and I split up. By the time I admitted I’d lost Cosmo, I went back to find Foote and discovered the poker room was trashed.”

  “What happened?” Allie asked.

  “Near as I can judge, that big moose guy tried to run through a poker game. He knocked over the table, and chips went flying everywhere. That became a brawl, and the two guys got away while Foote and security were stuck dealing with the aftermath.”

  “That explains the other call I got about the Bellagio,” Hunter said on a sigh. He looked sideways at Iris. “Good news for you, though. Jock and Pebbles are now all over the Bellagio security tapes. They won’t set foot in there again for months.”

  Somehow, that was small consolation.

  “Once we catch Turner, you’ll be safe.”

  Safe? Who cared whether or not she was safe? Mickey might have died, and her father was still missing. Right now, she’d risk anything to protect either of them from harm.

  She looked across at her two sisters. They’d risked themselves to help her tonight. Hell, Allie had leaped into battle with Turner as if she were Lara Croft.

  Iris had masterminded tonight’s plan, but it hadn’t gone well. No matter how much she loved Mickey, tonight had proven her right—she wasn’t cut out for this kind of life.

  ***

  Iris paused in her fiftieth circuit of the surgical waiting room to look at her sisters. Cory and Allie were seated—well, slumped, really—on a striped loveseat. They’d both refused to leave, but they were exhausted.

  So was she, but sleep eluded her. Until she knew—

  Hunter came up behind her. “He’s in Recovery.”

  She closed her eyes, giving thanks silently. Her shoulders dropped their tension, and she became conscious of how tired she really was.

  “We should get them to go home.” Hunter tilted his head toward the two napping women.

  “Think you can convince them now?”

  “Sure. What about you?”

  “I’m not leaving until I can see him.”

  He granted her a tired nod. “I’ll see what I can do. It’ll be another hour before he’s alert enough to talk.”

  “I can wait.” She looked out the windows at the horizon—purple mountains gilded with the rising sun’s brilliance.

  Hunter woke first Allie then Cory. Iris hadn’t pegged him to take such care, nor did the shining smile Allie granted him escape her. Her little sister was gone over that guy, though what she saw in him Iris couldn’t guess.

  The women came to hug her goodbye. They spoke in soft voices interjected with yawns. With a final wave, Cory and Allie walked down the hall toward the exit.

  Hunter rubbed his eyes. “I’m going to get some coffee from the cafeteria. You want anything?”

  Iris shook her head. After he left, she resumed her seat. Shifting uncomfortably, she reached into her back pocket and found Mickey’s phone. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to call when he was in real danger, but his parents deserved to know what was going on.

  Self-consciously, she opened the phone and pressed buttons in search of the address book. Finding that, she scrolled down to a listing for Mom/Dad. With a deep breath, she hit the Send button.

  “Hello?” Deirdre Kincaid sounded bright and chipper on this Tuesday morning.

  “Mrs. Kincaid? This is Iris Fortune. Mickey’s…friend.”

  “Well, now isn’t this a surprise.” Her delight was evident.

  Iris closed her eyes, hating to ruin her morning. “I’m afraid Mickey’s in the hospital—he was shot last night.”

  Deirdre made a choked sound, one Iris recognized as a barely concealed sob. “No, dear Lord.”

  “He’s going to be all right,” Iris said in a rush.

  Deirdre fell silent for a few moments. “Can I speak with him?”

  “He just came out of surgery, but the doctors expect a full recovery.”

  “Praise be,” Deirdre said between sniffles. “Was he on duty? I didn’t think the training there would be dangerous.”

  Unsure what training the other woman referred to, Iris said, “He was out on a case last night.”

  “Should we come out there?”

  She didn’t know how to answer that. “Why don’t you wait and talk to him. I think he’ll be able to call you by tonight.”

  “Good idea. He might not want family around. Always was a bad patient, even as a child.” Another sniff. “He’s convinced he’s indestructible, you know.”

  Iris closed her lips against another sob. Regaining control, she said, “I can imagine.”

  “Is he at Northwestern’s hospital? I should at least send some flowers or something.”

  “Northwestern?” Iris wasn’t familiar with that hospital.

  “Oh, I’m sure there’s any number of good hospitals in Chicago.”

  Chicago? “Er, yes. Look, I hate to cut this short, but I’m sure the authorities will contact you soon with more complete information.”

  “Oh, then you’re not with the department.”

  “No. I just wanted you to know he’s…safe.” A tiny sob escaped before she could catch it.

  Deirdre picked up on it. “My dear, I appreciate you calling and being there with him. You were frightened for him, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, but I know he’ll be okay.”

  “He will. If it helps at all, the fear never goes away, but it gets easier to handle with time.”

  “Thanks,” Iris said. But time wouldn’t make things any easier for her. It wouldn’t change the fact that Mickey had lied to his mother—the woman had no idea what city he was in, much less that he was chasing a killer.

  She’d asked him who he was, but God help her, she’d known from the first day she met him. He was a liar—just like her father. There was no future in that.

  ***

  Cory yawned heavily into her hand as she and Allie strolled out the hospital’s sliding doors toward the parking lot. Poor Allie looked just as tired. They were both starting to stumble like zombies. She squinted at the early morning daylight and tried to remember where she’d parked.

  “Iris had a rough night,” Allie said.

  “Yeah.” Cory looked over at her. “You still angry with her about yesterday?”

  “Are you kidding? She jumped on that guy and attacked him when he pulled me off balance. What more could you ask from a big sister but that she defend you?”

  Cory still couldn’t handle how damn positive Allie was about everything. “Only you would find a silver lining in last night’s chaos.”

  Allie grinned. “Oh, come on—tell me you won’t smile every time you remember Daddy running by us in that casino.”

  A chuckle escaped her. “I didn’t know he could run so fast.” She stopped and scanned the parking lot. “Where did I leave the car?” The lot was nearly empty at this hour, and her Jeep shouldn’t be this hard to spot.

  “Is that it?” Allie pointed to a car mostly hidden by a purple PT Cruiser.

  “Yeah, there it is. Wow, someone likes driving a giant grape.” They climbed in and, as Cory cranked the engine, the Cruiser’s engine rumbled to life. Startled, Cory realized there was a big guy at the wheel of the other car.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just jumpy from lack of sleep.” Cory shifted into reverse, looked into the rearview mirror and choked out a scream when she saw a man’s face behind them. His gold tooth twinkled at her, and she recognized him as one of Papa’s pursuers.

  She wondered why Allie was so silent, but when she dared a look, she saw the man had a gun pointed at her sister’s cheek.

  “Follow the Cruiser,” he said.

  Cory hesitated. “Allie?”

  “Do as he say
s.”

  ***

  Mickey lay in the hazy fog between anesthesia wearing off and pain kicking in. He wasn’t eager to regain consciousness, preferring to hold fast to that last memory of Iris appearing, bringing him help, holding him close and asking him not to leave.

  Had she actually said she loved him, or had he just imagined that part?

  Because he loved her. That much he knew—consciously, subconsciously, unconsciously… He closed his eyes against a wave of dizziness. Recovery rooms always sucked. Like right now he was still hallucinating. No way was Iris here, bending over him with that sad smile.

  “Are you waking up this time?” she asked softly.

  He opened his mouth, but only a hoarse croak came out. Her lips curved up. That alone improved his mood and energy. “Water.”

  She conjured up a plastic cup and tilted a straw to his mouth.

  He drank with the thirst of a camel, though he was exhausted after two swallows. He lost track of Iris. Hell, he probably lost track of time. The next thing he knew, he woke up again in a private room. Machines behind him beeped a steady rhythm. The anesthesia had worn off some because his cracked ribs ached and someone had lit a bonfire on his left shoulder.

  When he turned his head, he found Iris dozing in a chair by his side. One curl had worked loose from her ponytail to dangle down her cheek. Her russet hair set off the pale innocence of her face as she slept. Had he ever seen her this relaxed?

  He’d blown it last night. He had no idea what to tell her about her father—he wasn’t even sure Cosmo had escaped. As for Turner, he thought maybe he’d grazed him, but not enough to slow him down. Turner wouldn’t give up on trying to get those gems. And they still didn’t have the answers they needed from Cosmo.

  He’d fallen in love with a woman, and he’d already failed her. Jesus, what was he supposed to say? He slid his gaze toward her again, only to discover she was appraising him with those brandy-colored eyes. A smile cracked his dry lips. It didn’t matter that he felt like a pile of shit—with her, he was a happy pile of shit.

  The smile she returned was tinged with sadness. “The doctors say you’re going to be just fine. I’m glad.” She stiffly climbed to her feet. “I wanted to say goodbye before I left.”