Authors: Rita Sable
Trevor bit back another oath and flipped his cell phone shut. He turned around to face the two New York City police detectives standing nearby. They’d been summoned to the scene before he’d been notified. These were the same men assigned by Captain Hill to question Cynthia at the police precinct yesterday.
Both men were in their late forties, one African-American, one Caucasian, both with graying, short-cropped hair. They wore heavy wool coats to ward off the pervasive cold air. As a team, they leaned against the dull blue hood of their sedan and watched the forensic team work the shoreline with keen interest. A cigarette drooped from Detective Jack Sival’s broad lips. The man squinted through the haze of smoke that curled up into his inky black eyes when Trevor approached.
“Nothing?” Detective Sival kept his lips clamped tight around the cigarette on one side of his mouth and talked out of the other side.
“No,” Trevor grimaced, “she’s not answering the phone.”
Detective Ed Marsh let out a barking laugh. Both Trevor and Sival turned at the sound. Marsh’s icy blue eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Something funny, Detective Marsh?” Trevor asked. His professional instincts told him these men were good at their jobs. He needed to work with them as best he could while he was in the city. His personal instincts told him not to trust them any further than he could throw them across the frigid, slow-moving river.
“Yeah,” Marsh grunted. “You never leave a woman alone with the goods. Keep your eyes on her at all times. She’s flown your nest, Agent. Gone.”
Trevor raked his fingers through his hair. “She wouldn’t do anything that stupid, Detective.”
Marsh chuckled sarcastically and nudged his partner in the shoulder. The man’s ruddy skin looked chapped in the cold air. But his words carried heat. “He’s already bagged that little honey. What’d I tell you?”
Sival clamped down on his cigarette with his teeth and glowered at his partner. “That’s enough.”
Marsh ignored him, staring at Trevor. He spoke under his breath but loud enough for Trevor to hear his words. “Nice tits on that one. I’ll bet she was a good fuck.”
“Shut up, Marsh!” Sival glowered at Marsh before turning his attention back to Trevor. “I gotta agree with my partner. You should have asked the captain for an officer to baby-sit her. I’ll bet my World Series tickets that she’s skipped town. You screwed up, Agent St. James. Trusting her was a big mistake.”
Trevor suppressed the urge to sink his fist into Ed Marsh’s pale, soft center. It would feel good but only serve to alienate these men from helping him further. He tamped his anger down. “I’m heading back now. I expect a call if your team finds anything here.”
“You sure you don’t want us to come with you?” Sival mumbled around his cigarette. “We could keep an eye on her for you, you know, while you run around town doing your thing.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Trevor ground out between clenched teeth. “I’ll be in touch with you later, Detectives. I want that coroner’s report this afternoon.” He turned back to his sporty black SUV.
His cell phone rang the moment he slammed the door shut. He hoped it was Cynthia finally but the caller ID showed him it was O’Rourke.
“What is it now?” he answered gruffly, revving the SUV’s powerful engine and driving away from the river edge.
“Oy, touchy, touchy,” O’Rourke replied, emphasizing his heavy Scots accent. “Judging by the telly, I see yer day hasn’t been as good as ye were expecting.”
“Things have been better. What do you have for me?”
“Hmm,” O’Rourke mumbled into the phone. “I have a tad bit of bad news for ya, too.”
“Are you at the hotel now? I told her not to answer the door to anyone. Even you. Put Cynthia on the phone.”
“Weeeell, that be part of the problem, boyo. Yer little lady friend isn’t home.”
“Bloody hell! Where is she? Did you see her leave the hotel?”
An irritating and wrongfully amused chuckle sounded from O’Rourke. Trevor knew the damned redheaded troll was enjoying watching his case fall apart. O’Rourke was one of the best support agents in North America but he had a wicked sense of humor that Trevor could do without right now.
“I just unloaded the rest of her things, when I caught a glimpse of her as she boarded a city bus outside the hotel. I followed it to a substation where she took cover. The lass disappeared into the subway before I could find a place to park.”
“My guess is she’s heading toward her apartment. Where are you now?”
“Oh, I be parked in front of her place. No sign of her yet, inside or out.”
“Damn it, fool woman,” Trevor cursed under his breath. “She’s probably looking for her cat. What did you find out about her credit and bank reports?”
“The lass lives a clean life, no worries there. Something interesting though, she seems to have a cash-heavy relationship with a certain pawnbroker not too far from her apartment. It’s a place called Lu’s Pawn and Gold, on Sumpter Street. Must be where she buys some of her gems. Shall I check it out for ya?”
“No. Stick tight and watch for her. I’ll stop by this pawnshop and see what I can find there.”
Trevor flipped his phone closed and gunned the Porsche engine for more power. He sped down the entrance ramp on the expressway.
I knew I should have handcuffed her to the fucking bed
.
And when I find her again
,
I
’
m going to enjoy wrapping my hands around her beautiful neck
—
right after I kiss the living daylights out of her sweet
,
lying mouth
.
Chapter Sixteen
Cynthia trudged up the snow-slicked stairs from the subway station, carefully eyeing the passing crowds. She exited onto the street only one block from her apartment. Fortunately there’d been just enough spare change in her coat pocket to hop the bus and take the subway. She chose to bypass her usual stop and rode to the next station so that she could visit Lu’s Pawn and Gold first. She needed cash, quick. Without her wallet this was as far as she could go.
She pushed the outer door of Lu’s shop open with her hip, juggling her heavy suitcase and backpack. The inner door resembled a jail, with thick iron bars from floor to ceiling. She waved at the camera, knowing that Lu would recognize and give her entrance.
The door buzzed and she walked inside, dropping her suitcase with a grateful sigh. She scanned the small interior for other customers and didn’t see anyone else. Business was slow. Good. She needed his undivided attention right now.
Lu stood behind one of his bulletproof jewelry display cases, polishing the glass with a paper towel and a bottle of glass cleaner. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his outrageous ensemble. He was a flamboyant gay man with a penchant for wigs and dressing in drag. Today he wore his Lucille Ball flaming-red wig. It clashed horribly with his fuchsia lipstick and the ruffled blue silk shirt and flowing wide-legged pants.
Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Lu wearing anything else. Despite his lurid appearance he held a black belt in karate. She’d known him for years on both a professional and friendly basis. He’d always dealt with her honestly and they enjoyed a good working relationship. Whenever a particularly beautiful gem became available he called her first before displaying it on his shelves for the public.
“Girlfriend, you don’t answer my calls anymore. I’m so hurt,” Lu cooed with his soft, husky voice. “And why do you look like you’re moving out of town?”
“Hi, Luey. I’m not moving out. Well, not permanently. Just for a few days. What’d you call me about?”
“Well, come on over and take a peeky-poo at this.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a driver’s license. He held it up for her inspection.
Cynthia walked toward him and then froze, unable to move closer. “That’s my card. Where did you find it?”
He batted long, fake eyelashes. “A man brought it in last night, right before closing time. Here.” He extended his hand.
She took it from him gingerly. “Thanks. I, ah…lost my purse last night. What did this guy look like, Lu?”
Lu settled one manicured hand on his hip. “Let me see. He was shorter than I am. Crew-cut hair. He looked Chinese. Of Asian descent anyway but he didn’t have an accent at all. He was a born-and-bred New Yorker.”
Cynthia shivered. “Was he wearing a trench coat?”
“Sure was. Awful-looking thing. A short man should know better than to wear something like that. He did have a tight little body, from what I could see and—”
“Lu, please,” she interrupted. “Just tell me, what did he say to you?”
“Oh, honey-pie, are you in trouble?”
“No.” The less he knew, the better. She shoved her driver’s license into her jeans pocket. “Did he give you any info about himself?”
“He asked if I’d seen you lately.” Lu tipped his head to one side. “But of course, I said no. You are in some sort of trouble, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be fine, Lu.”
“You can tell me, sweet-cheeks. You know I’m careful.”
“Lu, it’s…I’ll be fine. Really.”
“Well then, girlfriend, what’d you come here for? Need another pretty baby for one of your projects?”
Cynthia blinked away the stifling terror that threatened to engulf her in a black net. “Not this time. I need to sell you one of mine. I need cash, Lu.”
“That’s what Luey does best. What have you got for me?”
Nausea made her head swim. She motioned to the back of his pawnshop, toward the privacy of a unisex bathroom. “Mind if I just take a leak first?”
“Sure thing, baby-doll.” He waved her on with his long-fingered hand. “Don’t mind the trash. I haven’t taken it out yet.”
“Thanks,” Cynthia mumbled. She moved quickly to the back of the pawnshop.
She locked the door inside the cramped, pink tiled bathroom with faded flower wallpaper. She rested her backpack on the counter and then jerked out of her heavy coat. A cold sweat dampened her skin. She turned the water on and leaned over the sink, shivering under the oily grasp of fear. Her stomach clenched and she dry-heaved but nothing came up. It seemed everywhere she turned today, she ran smack into dangerous signals that her life was careening out of control and straight toward death’s door.
How could those thugs who’d been chasing her know about Lu’s pawnshop? She felt trapped. Hunted and pinned down like an animal. She wanted to scream in frustration.
Get a grip
.
You have to get out of town
!
Nobody knows about Mom and Dad
’
s cabin
.
She took careful, deep breaths to calm her nerves and jumpy stomach. When she felt moderately more in control of her emotions, she splashed cold water in her face and sipped a little to wash out the sour taste in her mouth. She dried her face and hands with paper towels and then opened her backpack.
The stone she chose to sell was the half-carat, oval cut, pigeon’s blood ruby she’d bought at an estate auction last year. She knew ruby was Lu’s favorite, his birthstone. He’d give her a fair price for it. It would be more than enough cash to hide with for a long, long time. She’d rent a car and drive all the way up to Little Saranac Lake. Pay cash for everything she needed along the way, not leave a paper trail for tracking her whereabouts.
The more she thought it through, the more sense it made and the more convinced she became it was her only option. Feeling much stronger with her plan of action, Cynthia tucked the ruby inside a one-inch square paper packet used by gemologists to buy and sell stones. She slid the ruby packet into her jeans pocket, picked up her coat and backpack and unlocked the bathroom door.
When she stepped into the hallway again she saw Lu speaking with a big blond man at the counter. He stood with his back to her but she recognized him immediately. Quickly she backed up inside the bathroom and locked the door again. He was the same sinister man who had trailed her and Trevor last night, when they escaped from the coffee shop.
Trevor. Dear God, her heart pounded at the mere thought of him. Had she made the biggest mistake of her life by leaving his protection?
Warning bells hammered inside her head with renewed alarm. She had to find a way out of here. That man and his partner knew she frequented Lu’s pawnshop. Did the bastard pick up her purse after she’d dropped it in the street last night? He’d been following them, chasing after her. Of course he picked up her purse! That’s how he found out about her favorite pawnshop. He would have found Lu’s business card inside her wallet.
How they knew she’d come here today didn’t matter anymore. And most likely, they had murdered Mr. Andrews.
They
’
ll kill you too
,
if you don
’
t get your ass in gear and get the hell out of here
!
Lu’s bathroom did have a small window and she’d never be able to squeeze through the tiny space or break past the iron bars. He also had a back door with access to the alley between these buildings. The skinny hallway to the back door was long and dark. The door would be locked on the outside as a precaution from strangers entering the pawnshop from the alley. What were the chances she could sneak back there and escape without either Lu or the blond man noticing her?
Cynthia pressed her ear to the bathroom door and listened. She could hear their muted voices, their laughter. If Lu was at all attracted to this man, he’d do his best to keep him occupied for as long as possible. If she was going to escape, now was the time.
She opened the bathroom door a crack and peered out, thankful Lu’s fussy nature meant that he kept the hinges well oiled. The blond man appeared to be interested in whatever item Lu had on the counter. Cynthia took a deep, fortifying breath and tiptoed down to the end of the hallway, dodging empty boxes, paper supplies and neatly stacked piles of gay porno magazines along the wall. When she reached the back door, she opened it and squeezed through without looking back.
The door slammed shut behind her on a gust of icy wind. They would have heard that! A fresh burst of adrenaline ignited her legs and she spun around to run. She collided with a heavy trash container, making a horrible noise. She pushed away from it and sprinted through the alley toward the street, panic urging her to run faster.