by Sarah Atwell
“I’ve been by it.” No way was I going to admit a weakness for its justifiably renowned apple pie.
“Then tell Frank how to get there. He’s going first.”
I complied. It was unbelievable: He still looked like he was having fun. As for me, I felt queasy, shaky—heck, I felt terrified. Nothing on my resume qualified me to negotiate with killers.
Frank held out his hand toward Cam. “Keys, mate?” Cam handed him the keys, and Frank headed for the door. He turned at the landing. “See you soon.” And with a jaunty wave, he disappeared.
That left four of us. “Kevin, we’re going to go get your car now,” Matt said. “I’ll follow you after we pick it up. Remember, anything goes wrong, you’ll be sorry.”
Improbable as it seemed, Kevin appeared to believe him. “Got it. Sir.”
“Then let’s go.” Matt led the way.
At the door I stopped to bid a fond farewell to the dogs, fighting tears. Would I ever see them again? Damn it, Em—shape up. You’re tired and hungry and stressed and in way, way over your head, but getting sappy isn’t going to help anything. I had led a good life: I was honest, hardworking, kind to animals, and I deserved a break. If higher powers wanted to lump all my present and future breaks into one package, this would be the moment, and I wouldn’t complain. I struggled to come up with a smile for Cam. “You ready for this?”
He came up with a weak smile himself. “I’ve got your back, Big Sister.”
“Then what could possibly go wrong?”
I realized I hadn’t made any provision for the pups. Who knew how long we would be out there wandering around in the desert, trying to save Allison? I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the office number. When the machine came on, I said, “Nessa? I’ve been called away to . . . something and I don’t know when I’ll be in. Could you do me a huge favor and walk the dogs when you come in? I’ll explain everything when I see you. Thanks!” Cam was shaking his head at me, but I had my priorities.
We all piled into Matt’s car. The sun was up, and people were stirring on the streets. It all looked so normal, so peaceful. . . . Even the seedier part of town looked better by daylight. Kevin’s car was right where he’d left it, and Kevin, Cam, and I clambered out of Matt’s vehicle. Matt left his motor running and escorted us to the other car.
“Em,” he said, laying a hand on my arm.
I turned to face him. “What?”
He studied my face for a moment. But all he said was, “Be careful. Don’t do anything dumb.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence, pal. “Don’t worry. I’ll be meek as a lamb.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me.
It was a short ride to the truck stop. It lay on one of the main highways leading south out of town, near the airport, surrounded by typical Arizona scrub dotted with mesquite bushes and an occasional cactus. There was little traffic at this early hour, although the truck stop was doing a booming business, with rows of long-haul vehicles lined up behind. I spotted Cam’s car, empty, parked near the entrance. Kevin drove slowly through the lot, making a complete circuit before settling on a space not far from Cam’s car. He pulled in, turned off the engine, and then didn’t move.
“Kevin?” I said. “Is there a problem?”
He shook his head. “This ain’t right. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
It was idiotic, but I actually felt kind of sorry for him. “Sometimes things just get complicated, you know?” Maybe if I talked to him, for just a little while, he’d calm down. We needed him to be calm, and I didn’t think he was a good actor. “You haven’t done this kind of thing before?”
“What? Killing? Kidnapping? Sure I have. And Sean’s been bringing me along.”
I wasn’t sure I believed his boast, but I wasn’t about to challenge him. What did I know about Mob rules? Only what I saw on television. I was happy to believe that a lot of killing went on, as well as other nasty things. And thugs had to start their training somewhere, didn’t they? But one thing I was sure of: Kevin was not the brains behind this. Maybe Sean was—or maybe neither one was, and someone else was giving them orders. I was willing to bet that these two were only enforcers—or one enforcer and one trainee. They had been sent out with a single mission: Find Jack Flannery and bring back the diamonds. Normally that might have been simple. But Jack had gotten kind of dead, and things had gone muddy. Maybe now Sean was flying blind, making it up as he went. His choices so far had demonstrated a certain native shrewdness: He had managed to scope out the dark corners in Tucson where he would be least out of place. But I was going to have to work under the assumption that he was frustrated and angry. And I knew he could kill.
Right now, I had to make sure that Kevin stuck to his script. “It’ll be fine, Kevin. Just get us together with Sean. We’ll show him the diamonds, and then he’ll take us to Allison, right? You don’t have to do anything else.” I made my tones as soothing as I could manage. Heck, I was old enough to be this kid’s mother—maybe that would work in our favor. “I know things have gotten a little crazy, but we can work it out. I know Matt will help you.” Great, now I’d dragged in a father figure. But if it worked, fine with me.
At least Kevin had straightened his back and looked less ready to cry. “Right, then. Let’s do it.”
We all climbed out of the car, blinking in the bright sunlight. Kevin pointed for us to go first, and I headed for the main entrance. This whole thing smacked of a stage performance: cue entrance, stage right. Or was it left? I could never keep those straight. . . . Focus, Em! I pulled open the door and stepped into the vestibule, followed by Cam and Kevin. Kevin came up alongside me and surveyed the room, then slumped when he didn’t find who he was looking for.
A waitress came up and checked us over. “Three?”
“Nah, we’re expecting somebody else,” Kevin muttered. “Four.”
“Over there.” She pointed toward a booth toward the back.
“We want a window.”
The waitress hesitated a moment, then decided it wasn’t worth arguing about. “That one, then.”
As we made our way toward the table, we passed Frank, sitting with a large plate of food and a mug of coffee in front of him. He ignored us; we ignored him. Still, it was nice to know he was nearby. What the heck was it about him that was so reassuring? Settled at the table, I checked out the parking lot. Cam’s car and Kevin’s were clearly visible from where we sat, and I located Matt’s car at the edge of the lot near the highway, with a clear view of the front door. All the players were in place— except Sean.
And then another car pulled in slowly, its driver scanning the parked cars. It disappeared around the corner of the building and did not reappear, but two minutes later Sean—formerly known as Thug Number Two—threw himself into the remaining chair at our table.
“Well, well, Kev, you brought company.” He grinned without mirth, then turned to me. “You got ’em?”
“Yes,” I said. “Where’s Allison?”
“Not here.” The waitress appeared, and Sean proceeded to order a hearty breakfast. Then he glanced around at the rest of us. “You eating?”
Why not? Sean apparently wasn’t going to go anywhere until he had eaten. To my chagrin, I found I was hungry. Yeah, I dimly remembered eating something the night before, while we waited for the phone call, but that was at least twelve hours ago, and we needed our strength for . . . whatever was coming. I turned to the waitress. “Give me the Belly Buster, and coffee.”
Cam looked appalled, then ordered coffee and an English muffin.
“Kevin?” I said. The boy was looking green again. “What’re you having?”
“Whatever you are, I guess,” he mumbled.
I waited until the waitress had left, then turned back to Sean. “Where is she?”
“She’ll keep. Let me see ’em.”
“What, here?”
“I didn’t mean dump them out on the table, lady. I just want to see the goods, make sure y
ou aren’t pulling a fast one on me.”
Reluctantly I reached into the pocket of my Windbreaker, pulled out the baggie, and slid it across the table to him. He picked it up quickly, hefted it, then slipped it into his own pocket.
“You aren’t going to count them? Weigh them? Bite one to see if it’s real?” I was getting a little hysterical.
Sean looked disgusted. “Yeah, right. Look, you want the woman back, you’d better be playing straight with me.”
“I am, I am.” The waitress reappeared with coffee mugs, and we fell silent. There followed one of the most strained meals I could ever recall eating. What the heck was the etiquette regarding polite conversation with a known killer? Touchy subjects might upset one’s delicate digestion, but I was having a heck of a time coming up with anything that wouldn’t be touchy. “What do you think of Tucson? Been here before?”
“Creeps me out. Too much sand. All those damn cactuses.”
“Yes, that does take getting used to.” I gave up the effort and concentrated on my food. There was a lot of it.
Sean ate with gusto, apparently unfazed by his nefarious activities. Kevin picked at his food, and I wanted to kick him, to tell him to try to act normal. Cam ate without saying a word.
The meal ended, after about five years. Sean drained the last of his coffee, then sat back and stretched. “Gotta take a leak,” he said, then headed toward the back. I felt a stab of panic: What if he just kept going? But he wouldn’t leave Kevin, would he? Or maybe he just wanted to stick us with the bill?
The waitress appeared and handed us the check. I looked at my companions. “I guess we pick up the tab? Cam, you have any cash on you?”
We settled up and included a nice tip for the waitress. Then we sat. At one point I caught Frank’s eye, and he nodded. He’d finished his meal and settled the bill, but was still sipping coffee and reading a newspaper, looking completely at ease.
Just as I was getting ready to mount a search party, Sean reappeared. “Let’s go.” We stood mutely and followed him into the parking lot. As I had thought, he had parked behind the building, out of sight.
“What about my car, Sean?” Kevin bleated.
“Leave it.”
We reached Sean’s car. Empty. Well, of course it was: He wouldn’t leave Allison tied up and gagged in the backseat for all the world to see. Then another awful thought hit me, and I blurted, “She’s not in the trunk, is she?”
Sean shot me a scornful look. “You nuts?” But he opened the trunk anyway and showed me. It was empty. “All right, get in, you lot. Kevin, you drive. You two, backseat.”
We followed orders. As we pulled around the front of the building, I saw Frank ambling out of the restaurant toward his car. I didn’t dare turn my head to see if Matt was moving. We merged onto the highway, heading north to . . . where?
Chapter 21
sickness: a glass which is not properly tempered or annealed is said to be sick. It usually shows in tiny random cracks, flaking, and eventual disintegration (Phoebe Phillips, ed., The Encyclopedia of Glass)
Sean had told Kevin to drive so that he could keep an eye on us. Cam and I sat in the back seat, twitching. There wasn’t a whole lot else to do. Mentally I bounced back and forth between believing that Sean really was taking us to Allison, and then he’d let us go, and we’d all live happily ever after, versus the thought that he was taking us to a nice place in the middle of nowhere so that he could kill us and leave our bodies for the scavengers, end of story. I watched the scenery roll by, mentally ticking off landmarks. We went past the airport, then turned south on I-19.
“Where are we going?” I asked, mainly to make sure my voice still worked. I didn’t really expect an answer.
“Out in the country.” Sean gave a snort of laughter. “Only it’s not exactly country, now, is it? Desert. Damn— I don’t like desert.” He fell silent for a moment, and I thought he was finished, but then he spoke again. “You know what’s out this way?”
I shook my head, bewildered.
He laughed again. “A casino, by God. And you know what it’s called?”
Now I had an inkling about where he was headed with this, but I didn’t want to look like a smart-ass. He went on, “The Desert Diamond. Isn’t that a pisser? Like an omen or something. Right, Kev?” He nudged Kevin, who jumped about six inches straight up. At least he held on to the steering wheel. Luckily the road was dead straight and didn’t require a lot of concentration.
“What?” Kevin squeaked. “Oh, yeah, right. Diamonds. Funny.” He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. I prayed that Sean didn’t notice anything unusual about Kevin’s behavior. Maybe he always imitated a scared rabbit.
“Is that where we’re going? To the casino?”
“Nah. That’d be stupid, wouldn’t it? Lots of people around. And I’ll betcha there are plenty of security guards and cameras and all that crap too. Nope. I just kinda liked the name, and somebody told me it was pretty empty out this way. You come out here much?”
At least we had a dialogue going. “No. I don’t like to gamble.” Only with my life, apparently.
“Smart. There’re a lot of suckers who lose their shirts that way. So waddaya do for fun around here?”
“Nothing. I work.” When I said it, I realized it was true. When I wasn’t in the shop, I was in the studio, making glass or teaching a class. I had lots of acquaintances in Tucson but very few friends. Cam was my only close relative, and I hardly ever saw him. Was that why I had latched on to Allison so quickly? Because I saw her as someone who desperately needed a friend as much as I did? How pitiful was that?
“Oh, yeah. All those pretty little glass thingies. You make any money at that?” Damn the man—he seemed quite relaxed. Of course, murder and mayhem were his stock in trade, so this was just business as usual.
“Enough. I get by. Listen, are we going much farther?” We had covered about five miles, had passed the turnoff for the casino, and then had turned west on a two-lane local road that looked like it was going exactly nowhere. Kevin was following Sean’s instructions with fierce concentration.
“You in a hurry?”
“I just want to get this over with and get Allison back.”
“Whatever you want, lady. Stop here, Kevin.”
He stopped the car, and I looked around. The highway was a distant thread behind us, and I couldn’t see any cars moving. Around us there was the usual: sand, rock, scrubby mesquite bushes, the occasional cactus. No place to hide a person. So . . . was there no one hidden here? Or would we be the ones to be hidden? It didn’t take much to hide a body in the desert. Leave someone lying out, and the critters would work fast, and the sun and dry air would take care of the rest. Not a comforting thought.
Cam and I sat numbly, waiting for our next order. Sean got out of the car, followed quickly by Kevin. “You two—out,” Sean commanded. We got out.
“Where is she?” No one was going to say I wasn’t single-minded. I looked into Sean’s eyes—the eyes I knew belonged to a killer. Damn it, he looked amused. He was toying with me.
“You really wanna know?” he grinned.
“Of course I want to know!” Now I was getting mad, which was a slight improvement over scared. “Look, you’ve got your damn diamonds, and you can go home. Just tell us where Allison is.”
The grin never wavered. “She’s over there.” Sean pointed. Unfortunately his gesture covered about a ninety-degree sweep of country to the north of where we stood. I tried to remember what lay in that direction and came up blank.
“Come on,” I coaxed. “You’ve got to give me more than that.”
“Start walking. Can’t be more’n, oh, a few miles or so. Piece of cake, right?”
By now Cam had decided he’d had about enough, not that I blamed him. “You said you’d take us to her. Where is she? Do you know how hot it gets out here during the day? If she’s hurt, you’re going to pay for it.”
Kevin made an inarticulate sound and to
ok a step toward Sean, but Sean waved him off like a fly. Now his eyes were cold. “You gonna make me?” he taunted. “Tough guy?”
I prayed that Cam could keep a rein on his temper until Sean left. So what if Allison was somewhere in a few dozen . . . hundred square miles of hot scrub? We could find her—but not if we were dead. I definitely did not want to be dead. I didn’t want Cam to be dead either. I laid a hand on his arm and could feel it quivering with tension.
I’m not sure where all this masculine posturing would have led if we hadn’t been interrupted by the approach of a car—which I recognized as Cam’s, even through the cloud of dust it was kicking up. Frank? What did he think he was doing? This was not part of the plan.
Sean sent us a warning glance and waited until Frank had pulled level and stopped. Then he sauntered over to Frank’s car. “Problem?” Sean asked.
Frank opened the door and climbed out. “Too right, mate. I’m bloody lost.” His Aussie accent had mysteriously thickened.
“Go back the way you came and turn left—you should find Tucson. Eventually,” Sean said in a level voice.
“I’ve got a map—maybe you could show me,” Frank dithered, and went back to the car to rummage through the glove compartment. Playing the silly, innocent fool to the hilt. If I hadn’t known him, I might have bought it. But then, I was usually a trusting soul, and I didn’t think Sean was. I sneaked a look at him: He was watching Frank like a hawk. Be careful, Frank, I tried to beam to him.
Frank emerged backward from the car clutching a rumpled map. Then he straightened and walked over toward us. “Give it a look and tell me where I went wrong, eh?”
The map seemed to have taken on a life of its own, flapping and fluttering far more than the slight morning breeze would inspire. Frank kept losing his grip on it, and it billowed in Sean’s face until he got into the act and started swatting at it too. At the moment of maximum confusion, Matt emerged from the trunk of the car like a jack-in-the-box. Armed, of course. Unfortunately, Sean had quick reflexes. He extricated himself from the pesky map and grabbed me, pulling me in front of him. Oh goody—now I was a human shield.
