He noticed a small black mole above her upper lip, or at least a pencil version of one. “That’s new.”
She pushed her bottom out and struck a cheesecake pose then batted her eyelashes.
“Do you like it?”
He grinned and made a show of studying it. “I don’t know. Lighting in here’s not very good.”
She returned his smile. “Not as good as your room?”
He laughed. “Maybe.”
She shook her head. “Are you being coy with me, Mr. Wells?”
“Is it working?”
She smiled. “Maybe.”
He was about to seal the deal when he saw the Crosses walk into the lobby. He stood. “My friends are here. What time do you get off tonight?”
“Midnight.”
He started toward the Crosses. “I’ll see you then?”
“Maybe.”
He chuckled as he left her and joined the Crosses in the lobby.
“How did it go?”
Elizabeth scrunched up her face, gave him a raspberry and the thumbs down.
Jack looked to Simon for clarification.
“We had a lead, but it fizzled.”
“That’s what I said,” Elizabeth added, throwing in another raspberry.
Simon shook his head and they all started back toward the casino.
“We did, however,” Simon said. “Get some names. Danny Doyle. We spent the day following his trail, but it was a dead end.”
That was disappointing, but having names was good. “What about the other guy?”
“All we know is that he goes by the name Jumpy.”
“Catchy,” Jack said.
Simon arched a very droll and very British eyebrow.
“That’s not all we know,” Elizabeth said.
Both Simon and Jack looked at her, but she wasn’t looking at them; her focus was on the blackjack table. Jack followed her gaze.
“He’s sitting right there.”
“What?” Simon croaked. “Are you sure?”
Elizabeth ran her finger down the fleshy part of the back of her hand between thumb and forefinger. “The scar. I remember the scar.”
Jack’s view was blocked by people at the craps table, so he stepped to the side to get a better look.
“Son of a …” He ground his teeth to keep from swearing. “I know him.”
Simon turned to him in shock. “What?”
“That’s Richard. Ronnie’s friend from the hospital.”
“Hospital?”
“I’ll explain later.”
Simon drew Elizabeth away from view and Jack followed.
“Are you certain?”
Her eyes flashed impatiently.
He nodded and then straightened, turning back to stare at Richard or Jumpy or whatever the hell his name was.
And judging from the way Simon flexed his hand, he was ready to repay the debt he owed with interest.
Simon started to take a step forward, but Jack held his arm. “Just wait.”
Simon glared down at him, but he didn’t scare Jack. Okay, he scared him a little, but beneath that seething husband was a rational man.
“We need to get him to talk,” Jack said. “And if you cave in all of his front teeth …”
Simon grunted.
Jack turned back toward Richard. “This requires a little more finesse.” He shot his cuffs and started toward him, but he hadn’t gotten far onto the floor when Richard, who was every inch his nickname, nervously turned and saw him. He spotted Jack and started to smile uneasily, until his eyes drifted past him and landed on Elizabeth.
Recognition flashed across his features. Like a cartoon character, he froze and then took off.
“Aw, hell,” Jack grumbled and set off after him.
Richard weaved his way through the crowd toward the exit. Jack followed him, or tried to, but the crowd on the casino floor was thick.
Jack was tall enough to be able to see over most of them, but he didn’t like what he saw. Richard, skinny bastard that he was, slipped out the other side and was heading right for the front door when he suddenly skidded to a stop.
Simon and Elizabeth stood in his way.
Richard turned around quickly, but Jack was nearly out of the crowd now and on top of him. Richard ran back along the path that led to the guest rooms and made a sharp left into a service door. Jack followed close behind.
He got into the corridor just in time to see Richard make a hard left. Jack followed. He could hear women’s screams ahead and when he realized where he was, he understood why. This was backstage at the Garden of Eden show. Richard ran into the women’s dressing room. Feather boas flew up into the air as he shoved his way through the girls.
He pulled down a rack of costumes behind him. Jack was ready to jump over it when a girl appeared in his way. It was all he could do not to knock her over. He caught her in his arms and turned her around, letting her go and stumbling over the pile of costumes.
Jack only lost a few steps, but when he followed Richard’s path it led him back into the main corridor. Now Richard was nowhere to be seen. Jack stood still and listened. His heart was beating louder than it should. He really needed to work out more.
A frightened maid with her cart stood frozen at the end of the hall.
“Did you see …?”
She pointed toward another access door.
“You’re an angel!”
Jack opened it and found himself at the base of a stairwell. He could just make out footfalls above him. He took the stairs two at a time and reached the small landing. He yanked open the door and found himself looking down on the casino floor. Standing, trapped, in the middle of the catwalk that hovered above the guests, was Richard.
An instant rush of prickly adrenaline coursed through Jack’s body. Heights. Why did it always have to be heights? Not that it was that high, he told himself as he looked down. A wave of nausea washed over him. Apparently, it was high enough.
Jack swallowed and put up his hands. “There’s no way out. Let’s just take it easy. Talk.”
Richard laughed nervously and looked down to the floor over twenty feet below. When he looked back at Jack, he smiled and curled his fingers, urging Jack to come after him.
“Just my luck,” Jack muttered.
Richard waved him forward again.
Jack held up a hand. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Swallowing his fear, he made his way out onto the spindly platform that traversed the length of the casino floor. He walked out until he was about five feet from Richard.
“You’re afraid,” Richard said with a grin.
“And you’re stupid,” Jack said. “That still puts me ahead.”
Richard’s smile disappeared.
“There’s no way out of here,” Jack said. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
He could see Richard consider his options, and as he’d probably done all his life, he took the worst one and lunged toward Jack. He really shouldn’t have led with his chin.
Jack’s fist connected with it so hard he felt his knuckles pop. Richard’s head snapped back. His long, thin body went rigid for a moment before it toppled to the side and right over the railing. He did a half flip in mid-air before landing on his back smack in the middle of the craps table, knocked out cold.
Elizabeth looked up and grinned. “That’s one way to make your point.”
~~~
“Are you three planning on tellin’ me what’s going on or am I supposed to guess?” Whitmore said as he came barreling into his office. “I’ve got some kid from Harvard down there winnin’ every damn hand.”
He moved to his desk and poured himself a drink. “If he ain’t countin’ cards, I don’t know what he’s doin’.”
He held up the bottle of whisky and looked at Jack and Simon. They both shook their heads.
“I’d rather wait until Ronnie gets here,” Jack said.
Whitmore grunted. He looked at Elizabeth. “You nee
d a Coke or somethin’, honey?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Jack and the Crosses had come to the La Fortuna straight from the hospital where they’d spent an interesting few hours. At least once Richard woke up. Now, all they could do was wait for Ronnie to arrive and then watch all hell break loose.
Whitmore took a seat behind his desk, took a deep draw from his glass, then slammed it down impatiently on his desk. “Where is that damned boy? Ronnie! Never here when you need him and always underfoot when you don’t.”
Right on cue, Ronnie appeared in the doorway. He cradled his injured arm and looked as weary and pained as he could.
“The doctor said I should rest,” he said as he came in and then realized that there were others in the room. He looked around curiously.
“Have a seat, son.”
Ronnie looked nervous, but did as his father asked.
Whitmore held out his hand to Jack, indicating that he had the floor.
Jack pulled an ottoman close to Ronnie and sat down facing him. He gave him a smile. Ronnie was stupid, but he wasn’t so stupid to not realize something was wrong.
He shifted in his seat, wincing as he did in a ploy for sympathy. He was going to find that in short supply. If Jack was furious, Simon was twice so. He could only imagine how Whitmore was going to feel when he heard the truth.
“Your arm hurt?” Jack asked.
“It’s sore.” His eyes shifted toward his father. “What’s this all about?”
He started to stand, but Jack put a hand to his chest. “I think you’re going to want to sit down for this.”
Reluctantly, Ronnie did. A bead of perspiration broke out on his upper lip.
“Now, the Crosses and I just had a very illuminating conversation with a friend of yours. He was a little a groggy at first, but when he came around, he just wouldn’t shut up.”
Ronnie’s breathing sped up, his chest visibly surging up and down. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Jack said with a smile. “Richard was very helpful.”
Ronnie tried to stand again, but Jack shoved him in back into his chair. He gave a little cry of pain, or maybe it was fear. If he was smart it was fear. But who was he kidding, Jack thought, the last thing Ronnie was, was smart.
“What’s this all about?” Whitmore came around his desk.
Jack stood and looked down at Ronnie. “Do you want to tell him or should I?”
He doubled down. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Jack shrugged and leaned against Whitmore’s desk. He put one foot on the ottoman he’d been sitting on. Whitmore watched it all with growing interest.
“Suit yourself,” Jack said.
Simon left his post behind Elizabeth’s chair and walked over to Whitmore’s office door and closed it. Ronnie jumped at the sound.
He glanced back at Simon and the glare he received in return made him pale.
“You see, I take it personally when someone kidnaps a friend of mine,” Jack said. “And Simon, well, he takes it very personally.”
Ronnie glanced nervously toward Simon. He was right to be afraid of him, but Cross was the least of his worries now. And that was saying something.
“None of it seemed right,” Jack continued. “It was sloppy. Amateurish. And so we did a little digging. And you know what you find when you dig deep enough? Worms. Specifically, those two idiots you call friends.”
Ronnie tried to smile. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do, Ronnie. You were behind it all.”
Whitmore stared at his son.
“It’s not what you think,” Ronnie said.
“You were behind the kidnapping, behind the—”
“What?” Whitmore bellowed.
Ronnie shook his head. “He’s lying.”
“Richard told us everything,” Jack said.
“He wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what?” Jack asked. “Rat you out?”
Ronnie nodded before whatever brains he had started to work.
“So he’d lie for you?”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said and looked pleadingly at his father. “He’s twisting my words.”
Jack ignored him. “He told us how you approached him and Danny; two old high school friends, aren’t they?”
Ronnie looked away. He was good and trapped now.
“It was an easy job, easy money for them. What could go wrong?” Jack said. “They didn’t count on Elizabeth crashing the party, but they improvised. So what was the plan, Ronnie? Were you going kidnap Susan and send a ransom note? Ask for money?”
He swallowed hard and tried to disappear into his chair.
“No,” Jack said, answering his own question. “It was never about money, was it? You wanted your father to sign that lease renewal for the Paradise.”
“I asked him to sign it before all this,” Ronnie said.
Whitmore took a quick stride toward Ronnie, barely stopping himself from grabbing him by the throat.
“So you kidnapped your own sister?”
Ronnie showed his first bit of backbone then and looked at his father. “You never listen to me.”
Whitmore’s face went from confusion to ice cold. “After all she’s done for you? After all the years of sticking up for you, defending you, saying I was wrong, that you were misunderstood?”
He leaned forward. “This is how you repay her?”
Whitmore’s words hit home. For the first time, Jack sensed regret in Ronnie and not just because he’d been caught.
“I never meant to hurt her.”
Whitmore’s jaw tightened and his hands clenched into fists. Jack was ready to step in and keep him from strangling Ronnie on the spot, but Whitmore stood stock still. “I should kill you boy.”
Ronnie had the good sense to pale at that. He shook his head, but Jack needed to get them back on track.
“But that wasn’t all of it, was it?” he said. “You didn’t just want the lease signed, you wanted credit for it.”
Jack knew from the look in Ronnie’s eyes that he was right.
“Maybe wanted a little respect?” Jack added.
Ronnie looked at his father with venom in his eyes. “I was never going to get it from him.”
Whitmore quietly seethed like a volcano building up pressure.
“But you screwed up, didn’t you, Ronnie?” Jack went on. “Again. We saw the markings on the mannequin and found the girls before you could even send a ransom note. That’s when you had to move on to plan B. You had to make it look like the mob was after you, too. Danny took the shot and Richard was your convenient witness.”
“All he had to do was sign a piece of paper.”
“I don’t know if Caifano’s figured all this out yet, but it won’t be long before he does,” Jack said. He leaned down to get a better look at Ronnie. “Did you really think they were going to reward you for this? For making it look like they were behind kidnapping and attempted murder?”
“They’d have their deal,” Ronnie said desperately. “It’s worth millions.”
Jack shook his head. Ronnie really had no idea. “At the cost of their carefully maintained image of legitimacy? For something they didn’t even do?”
Whitmore stared at his son not in shock, but in resignation and anger. Slowly, he walked back to his desk chair.
“Susan was never in any danger, I swear,” Ronnie said quickly, getting to his feet. “And …” He turned toward Simon and Elizabeth. “What happened to you, that was a mistake. That was wrong. I had words with Rich about that, I promise you.”
“Words?” Simon said coldly.
Before Ronnie had a chance to dig himself deeper or Simon had a chance to hit him, Whitmore spoke. His voice was low and quiet.
“Get out.”
He sat behind his desk, his hands flat on top of it, his eyes focused down.
“Dad.”
“Get out.”
“Nobody go
t hurt, not really. I mean, I probably got hurt the most and—”
Whitmore slammed his hands down so hard onto his desk everything on it jumped.
“I told you to get out of my sight.” He fixed Ronnie with a look no one there would forget. “And don’t ever come back.”
Chapter Twenty
SIMON LOOKED DOWN WITH distaste at the scotch he’d just poured. “That was wholly unsatisfying.”
He picked up the two glasses, handed one to Jack and sat beside Elizabeth on the couch in their suite. Jack took a drink and plopped down heavily in the chair opposite them.
“I know,” he said with a sigh.
“And so much for your finesse,” Simon added. “I didn’t get to hit anyone.”
“Mission’s not over yet.”
Simon actually seemed to take some comfort from that.
Elizabeth tucked her feet up underneath her and leaned against his side. “I kinda feel sorry for him.”
Simon was incredulous. “Ronnie? You cannot be serious.”
She shrugged.
“After everything he did? Did to you?”
“I don’t know. He’s just kind of pathetic. Like a whipped dog.”
Simon looked like he was going to argue the point, but didn’t, and took a drink instead.
“And now he’s a dangerous one,” Jack said.
“Do you really think he could kill Susan?” Elizabeth asked.
“I don’t know,” Jack admitted. “Desperate men can do things that they wouldn’t normally do, and Ronnie is definitely desperate.”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe it. He’s an idiot.” Simon snorted, but Elizabeth continued. “But I just don’t think he’d hurt her. She’s the only one who ever showed him any kindness.”
Jack leaned back in his chair. She was probably right. Ronnie was still a suspect, but if he killed Susan it was probably some ridiculous accident. Which was actually a horrifying thought. Men with motives were a lot easier to protect against than a freak accident, and Ronnie was one waiting to happen.
“If not Ronnie,” Simon said, “then who?”
Jack scrubbed his face. “I don’t know. After recent events, my money’s on Tony. Their marriage is … not so good.”
“And I’m sure having a handsome stranger hanging around has helped immeasurably.”
Jacks Are Wild: An Out of Time Novel (Saving Time, Book 1) Page 19
