Shattered Mirror

by Iris Johansen

  “Really? Is that why Jock Gavin boarded a flight for Nice early this morning? Suppose you tell me about it.”

  “You’re watching Jock, too?” She felt a surge of panic. “Stay away from him, Kaskov. And keep your men away from him. Don’t go near him.”

  “My, my, how fierce you are,” he said, amused. “And it’s my men who should be protected from Gavin. Do you think I haven’t investigated who and what he is?”

  “Stay away from him.”

  “Then perhaps you’d better tell him to stay away from me,” he murmured. “I haven’t mentioned the fact that he’s been hovering in the background whenever you came to spend time with me. It didn’t disturb me, or I would have made an issue of it.”

  “He’s my friend. He worries about me.”

  “And you worry about him. I’ve always found that interesting.” He went on before she could reply, “I’m no threat to Gavin at present. I just have to know where he’s going and why. Once I get that information, I’ll confine any surveillance to you. Does that make you feel better?”

  “No.”

  “It should. I don’t generally make concessions.” He paused. “You won’t come to New Orleans?”

  “Not now.” She had a sudden thought. Kaskov clearly had a handle on everything that was happening to her. “Do you know where I am?”

  “Of course, I’d hardly trail after Gavin and let you wander around by yourself. I have Oleg Sakov, a very good man, on his way to keep an eye on that lake cottage, until you decide to come here. Though I understand Joe Quinn is a force to be reckoned with, I prefer my own man.”

  “Tell this Sakov to get away from here. Keep him away from Joe or anyone else in my family.”

  “But they’re not your family,” he said quietly. “I am, Cara.”

  “They are my family. Sometimes blood doesn’t matter.”

  “I don’t agree. But we won’t argue about it. I promise you won’t know Sakov is even there, and he certainly won’t interact with your Joe Quinn. If you change your mind, let me know, and I’ll send someone to pick you up. Have a nice evening, Cara.” He hung up.

  It had not been a threatening call, but that didn’t keep it from being disturbing. And if Jock knew, he would definitely be upset about Kaskov’s interference in her life.

  But Kaskov had accepted her refusal, so the situation was pretty much status quo until it changed. However, she’d have to warn Joe that Kaskov had ordered someone to watch his property. He would not be pleased.

  But perhaps she would wait until later tonight to tell him.

  She was looking at Joe, laughing as he watched Michael concentrating on flipping a burger on the grill. Eve talking quietly to Darcy as she moved around the picnic table, setting it with plates and cutlery. Small tasks, simple tasks, homey tasks, but Cara felt a sudden rush of warmth.

  She wanted to be with them, enveloped in that cozy ambience that was almost mesmerizing. In the darkness and fear that seemed to surround her, here was sunlight and comfort and love. She stuffed her phone in her pocket and moved back toward them.

  Because Kaskov was wrong, blood had nothing to do with it. This was her family because they had chosen her to be one of them.

  And choice was everything.

  NICE, FRANCE

  “There he is.” Benoit nodded at the tall, dark-haired man who had just left the small, elegant hotel and was hurrying down the street toward the Lagazar Casino a few blocks away. “Raoul Napier. Right on time. I told you that he’d be here. You have to admit I’m truly superb. Who else would be able to pull your prey out of the woodwork in a matter of hours?”

  “Not quite superb. You haven’t been able to locate Felicity Jordan yet.”

  “That will take time,” Benoit protested. “She’s not a degenerate gambler like Napier. When she’s not at her villa, she travels from resort to resort, and she and Napier only come together for a week or two a year. From what I’ve found out about her so far, she likes money, high-fashion boutiques, and sex. The latter involves a frequent and varied change of bed partners, which Napier ignores as long as she supplies him with funds. But I’ll find her.” He sighed. “And I have to admit Napier was no real challenge of my skills. That’s his favorite casino on the Riviera. He even checked into that small hotel so that he’d be within walking distance. He thinks it brings him luck.”

  “Not tonight.” Jock pulled over to the curb. “Get out, Benoit. Meet me back at my hotel. You’re not going to want to be involved in this.”

  “Right.” Benoit quickly got out of the car. “Not my area of expertise. See you later.” The next moment, he’d disappeared around the corner.

  And Jock was cruising slowly behind Raoul Napier, watching for an opportunity. Napier was younger than he’d thought he’d be, probably at least fifteen years younger than his wife, Felicity. Well built, dark skin and eyes and a shock of dark hair that made him look even younger. Evidently, Felicity was into boy toys these days. His tuxedo was beautifully tailored and had probably cost at least nine or ten thousand.

  Money that had no doubt been supplied by funds sent to his loving wife by Darcy Nichols, Jock thought. Bloodsuckers. He’d always detested the bloodsuckers of the world. Maybe he wasn’t in quite so much of a hurry to get this over after all.

  And Napier was now approaching an alley just ahead.

  No one on the street. All the focus was on the brightly lit casino in the next block.

  Jock’s foot pressed on the accelerator to intersect him as he reached the alley.

  Take him quickly. Get the information. Decide later just how much he hated bloodsuckers …

  * * *

  It took Napier fifteen minutes to regain consciousness. By that time, Jock had managed to get him out of the city and driven into a field secluded by tall trees.

  “You … hurt me.” Raoul Napier’s eyes were wide with panic as he struggled into a sitting position on the ground beside the car. “You didn’t have to do that. I would have given you my money. I’ll give it to you right now. I don’t have much, but maybe my credit card would be—”

  “Not necessary. I need something else entirely from you.” Jock knelt beside him. “Sylvie Jordan. You and your wife took her from her sanitarium almost two months ago. I want to know who paid you to do that.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He moistened his lips. “I had nothing to do with that. Sylvie’s not even my daughter, she’s my wife’s kid. You’ll have to ask her.”

  “I will, but I can’t seem to locate her. Perhaps you can help me.” Jock bent closer, and said, “But don’t lie to me again. It makes me very angry. You don’t want to make me angry. You both were at the sanitarium signing Sylvie out. So you definitely had something to do with it, Napier. And the next week, the casino said you appeared to be very flush. In fact, it financed a really good run at the crap tables. It didn’t last long, you’re currently on a losing streak.” He added softly, “And tonight you’re definitely on a losing streak. So you’re going to tell me what happened to Sylvie Jordan and why you decided to kill her.”

  “Kill her? I didn’t kill her.” He was breathing hard, his hands opening and closing. “I had nothing to do with it. I just did what I was told.”

  “By whom?”

  “I can’t tell you that. I just owed someone a lot of money, and he said that if I did this one thing, it would all go away. All I had to do was to get my wife to take Sylvie out of that sanitarium and turn her over to him.”

  “And you didn’t ask why?”

  “You don’t understand. There was no way I could pay off that debt. He would have made an example of me. So I thought maybe if I told him what a gold mine Sylvie was for Felicity, maybe we could make a deal. I didn’t think he’d hurt her. Why should he? She’s been a bread ticket for Felicity for years. There wouldn’t have been any reason to hurt the kid. He could use her, just like Felicity did.”

  “Use her,” Jock repeated distastefully. “And I take it your
wife didn’t find anything wrong with turning her daughter over to this scum?”

  “She didn’t like it. She said Sylvie was too valuable. I couldn’t convince her to do it. But I guess he did. At first, he didn’t think it was a good idea, but then later he changed his mind and said we could make the deal. And then I had trouble with Felicity.” He added pettishly, “Nothing was going right for me. But he said he’d take care of it. He called and scared her, and she finally said she’d go along with it.”

  “There are too many he’s and him’s in this conversation. A name, Napier.”

  He was silent.

  Go in another direction. “And where is your wife now, Napier?”

  He didn’t speak.

  “Where?”

  “How do I know?” He burst out. “She was pissed off that I’d gotten us both into trouble, and she didn’t want to see me again. I was surprised that she was even willing to do it. She must have been really scared. She hated my gambling. The bitch never understood me. She told me that once she’d delivered Sylvie, that she was going to have to think of a way to deal with Darcy until she got the kid back.” His lips twisted. “And she said my free ride was over and to expect divorce papers within a few months.”

  “And where was she supposed to go to deliver Sylvie?”

  “After we picked up Sylvie at the sanitarium, Felicity was to drive into the hills to Paillon, a little town near the coast, and turn her over. I guess that’s what she did.”

  “Guess? Not good enough. And I need a name.”

  “I can’t.” His face was white. “Look, he’s left me alone just like he said he would after we gave him Sylvie. He even gave me a little bonus for cooperating. But I know if I talk, I’ll be a dead man.”

  “If you don’t talk, you’ll be a dead man,” Jock said quietly. “I’m leaning that way anyway. You’re wasting my time, Napier.”

  “Take my money,” Napier said desperately. “Maybe I can get you more if you let me go.”

  “I want a name. I want to know everything you know.”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Can’t? You’ll be surprised how easy it is,” Jock said. “I don’t usually deal in torture. My training was in ending life, not extending it to agonizing lengths. That doesn’t mean I’m not very competent at it. So you’d be wise to terminate this interview to my satisfaction.”

  “Take the money,” Napier repeated desperately.

  Jock sighed. “You’re very stupid, Napier. Though to tell you the truth, your decision is very satisfying to me. It just doesn’t meet my goals.”

  He reached and delicately stroked Napier’s throat. “It’s amazing how much pain can be inflicted in these muscles without actually killing…”

  Napier whimpered, then began to groan.

  LAKE COTTAGE

  “The man who was behind Sylvie Jordan being taken from that sanitarium was Jacques Manard,” Jock said when Joe Quinn picked up the phone. “He’s a big-time bookie and gambling kingpin who controls a hell of a lot of the action along the Riviera. Napier owed him a bundle, and he jumped at the chance of getting out from under before he was tossed into the Mediterranean. But Napier had to have his wife cooperate to get Sylvie released, so he had to involve Felicity.”

  “Why the hell would Manard want Sylvie Jordan?”

  “Napier didn’t know or care. He’d told Manard the situation about Sylvie and her twin. He thought it might be kidnapping, or just a way to force Felicity into turning any money Darcy earned over to him.”

  “Too complex. And no ransom was ever asked. There was just the skull…”

  “And what would a big-time gambling czar be doing sending a skull to Eve?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Joe suggested. “Politely, of course. And if that doesn’t work, call me. I’ll be glad to fly over there and deal with him in a less than polite manner. I don’t like the idea of having Eve and Michael being exposed to that kind of shit on my own turf.”

  “Presently. Right now I’m on my way to Paillon, the little town where Darcy’s mother was supposed to have turned Sylvie over to Manard. It’s fairly close, and I want to check out why he chose that town to meet, then try to get information where she went from there. Then I’ll go to Manard’s beach house and tell him that you wanted politeness at all costs. But it wasn’t Jacques Manard who left that fingerprint at the Carnegie residence. Can you see if there’s a connection between Manard and Norwalk?”

  “I’ll get on it. But I told you that he usually limited his operations to England and Ireland.” He paused. “You’re thinking that perhaps the target is Darcy?”

  “I don’t know what I’m thinking. Check and see if Manard has any connection with Kaskov. None of it makes sense yet.”

  “If it makes a difference, Kaskov told Cara that he had nothing to do with that attack on her.”

  “Told her?”

  “He called her tonight and said he thought she should come to him earlier than scheduled.”

  Jock was muttering curses. “Son of a bitch. What else?”

  “Only that he knew you were on your way to Nice. And that he was keeping an eye on her here.” He added dryly, “He’s evidently filled with grandfatherly concern. Touching.”

  “Keep him away from her.”

  “She won’t go anywhere without telling me,” Joe said. “Right now, she’s just worried about Darcy.” He added grimly, “And I’m worried about whether I’ll end up killing one of Kaskov’s men trespassing on my property.”

  “Dammit, I need to get back there.” With an effort, he smothered the anger and exasperation. “I’ll call you after I’ve had my chat with Manard.”

  “What happened to Napier?”

  “He’s alive. He may not be, after I tell Manard it was Napier who gave him up. But that’s his problem. I decided I really can’t stand bloodsuckers.” He hung up.

  Don’t think of Kaskov or all his machinations and wiliness that had made him one of the most dangerous criminals on the continent. He knew he’d have to go back and get a handle on any plans Kaskov might have for Cara. But he had to wrap up as much as possible here so that he could afford to put a period to what had happened to Sylvie Jordan.

  Paillon should be just around the next bend. It appeared to be a nice little town with a lovely view of the Mediterranean. Evidently, the tourist entrepreneurs hadn’t been able to infiltrate this area yet. He was already seeing neat houses with window boxes full of geraniums. He passed a church with a tall steeple.

  He turned the bend in the road.

  And he saw why Felicity had been told to bring Sylvie to this small, charming town in the mountains.

  The name on the building was glowing green neon in the darkness.

  PIERPONT MAISON FUNERAIRE

  And down below it.

  CREMATORIUM

  “You heard him.” Joe turned to Eve as he hung up from talking to Jock. “Jock is a little annoyed about all this. It was bad enough before Kaskov interjected himself front and center.”

  “Not front and center,” Eve said. “He’s just hovering in the background and making certain that Cara knows he’s there. But I can see why Jock isn’t pleased.”

  “Nor am I,” Joe said. “You’re amazingly calm considering how you feel about Cara’s visits with Kaskov.”

  “I’m not calm. I hate the idea, but I think Cara believed Kaskov when he told her he had nothing to do with that attack on her. It relieved me. Cara is nobody’s fool.” She smiled. “I don’t even feel too upset about Kaskov’s sending that guard here to the lake to protect Cara. I want all the help we can get until this is over.”

  “Even if that guard obeys only Kaskov?”

  Eve smiled faintly. “You can get around that, Joe.”

  “I’d rather not have that brand of help to have to circumvent.” Then he shook his head. “Okay, I’ll have a talk with him as soon as he gets here and lay down the rules. He doesn’t come any closer to the cottage than the far end of the lake.
He has to call me for permission to make any other move. If he gives me any arguments, he’s gone.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think he’ll give you an argument.”

  He grimaced. “And that’s a disappointment.” He reached for his phone again. “And now I’d better get that info for Jock before he shows up on Manard’s doorstep. He’ll need somewhere to start…”

  * * *

  “How are you doing?” Cara asked Darcy quietly as she dropped down beside her on the bank of the lake. “You look better today.”

  “Why not?” Darcy looked around the woods and lake, then to Michael splashing in the water several feet away. “It’s all good here. As long as I don’t think too much, I’m good, too. I know I’ll have to come back to the real world soon, but not just yet.” She smiled. “Hey, and I even have a great melodrama working for me.” She lowered her voice to a mock hiss. “A Russian goodfella wandering around the property protecting my good friend Cara from the forces of evil.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I think it is. But then I have a twisted sense of humor these days.” She shrugged out of her caftan, revealing her beige bikini. “And believe me, I like the idea of its not being me having to be responsible for saving you again. There’s no Jock around to rattle out orders.”

  “No one is responsible for me, but me,” Cara said. “And I don’t appreciate having my grandfather inserting himself in my life like this. Because it means he’s also inserting himself in Joe’s and Eve’s life.”

  “But you’ve got to admit it would make a great movie.” She was splashing her legs in the water. “I thought I was the one who had all the cinematic fireworks in her background until Eve told me about what you’d gone through as a kid. Both your parents involved in Mexican cartels that made you a pawn and put you on the run. Your grandfather, a Russian Mafia head, lurking in the background. Shades of The Godfather.” She grinned. “You kind of put me in the shade.”

  “Some people would say that’s a less than wonderful pedigree,” Cara said dryly.

  “Really?” She tilted her head. “Is that why you never told me about your background?”