Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

Well, learning that Cosmo had been married to Allie’s mother for fourteen years before he married Irina Nikolaevsky. Or that Iris had been born a scant six months following her parents’ marriage. Even though she was older than Corazon by two years and Allie by five, she had to wonder what Cosmo’s life had been like all those years before he married her mother.

Biting her lip, Iris folded the document in half and pulled her car keys from her purse. “I need to get back to my shop.” The urge to flee nearly swamped her.

“But we need to talk.” Allie stepped toward her then paused as if she feared Iris would bolt. “Between us, we may have the answers to finding Daddy.”

That term of endearment wedged a spike between Iris’s ribs, straight at the heart. He’d been her daddy, once, long ago. Before she’d lost faith in him, and maybe in herself.

Iris tugged on the doorknob. “Let’s get this straight. I’ve been trying to rid my life of Cosmo for nearly ten years now. I don’t see any reason to help find him.”

Finding him wouldn’t make anything better. Only worse.

McCarran Airport wasn’t the only spot in Vegas that still had pay phones, Cosmo knew. But if he gave the police enough time to trace a call, he might be able to convince them he’d split town.

He slid the Alaska Airways ticket inside his jacket and retrieved the leather briefcase from the conveyor belt. Security hadn’t questioned his identity at all. He’d have to compliment Viktor on the quality of the fake ID. Assuming he still didn’t get caught.

Nudging his way through the crowded gate area, he finally reached a bank of five pay phones. Each offered a tiny seat and practically no privacy. Cosmo set the briefcase down and straightened his cuffs. Now the polished professional, complete from pomaded hair to wingtips, he doubted anyone would be interested in listening to him.

His first call was long past due, and he kept his message brief. “If you receive word of my death, it’s a bit premature.”

He thought about calling his daughters, but decided Cory would get them word he was safe. For now. Squaring his shoulders, he dialed an international call.

“Cosmo? What is happening?” As always, Marko’s accent was heavy and guttural. It was pre-dawn in St. Petersburg, but he’d answered on the first ring.

“Nothing to worry about.” Mostly. “I may be out of touch for a few days, but I’m home in Las Vegas.”

“Aunt Tatiana was furious to find you’d left the country with those gemstones,” Marko said. “You know they’re an heirloom. If you lose them, she will hunt you down and kill you.”

“That seems to be a recurring theme these days.” In the periphery of his vision, Cosmo caught sight of two police officers. His eyes followed their progress down the terminal without him ever turning his head. “I only need the stones for a few days. I’ll check in again then and make arrangements to return the, er, merchandise to its rightful owner.”

“See that you do. And Cosmo? Call if you need help.”

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t want to involve you.”

“Nonsense. You are, how you say-family.” Marko’s tone was decidedly gruff.

Damn, Cosmo had always doubted the bastard really cared. He hung up and dialed his last call. Three digits.

“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”

“I want to speak to Detective Justin Hunter of the LVMPD.”

“Sir, this number is for emergencies only.”

“Ma’am, I’m a fugitive wanted in connection with a homicide. If it makes you feel better, someone is trying to kill me, but let me speak to Hunter.”

“Please hold, sir.”

Already they were recording the conversation and tracing his phone number for location.

“Cosmo? Where are you?” Hunter panted into the phone, as if he’d run to get the call. Good.

“You already know I’m at McCarran.”

“Don’t try to leave town-”

“I’ll do what I have to do to save my hide. You wanted an insider, you got your information, now I want you to repeal the APB.”

“It’s for your own safety, Cosmo. We just wanted to question you, we know you didn’t kill the guy in your car.”

Cosmo felt a pang. He was up against some serious people, people who treated others’ lives as one more marketable commodity. “Was it anyone I knew?” he asked.

“You tell me. We identified him as George Halsted.”

“Poor bastard.” Halsted had flown to Russia with him. He was the jeweler who’d verified the authenticity of the gems they’d purchased. Cosmo had tried to warn George that certain death awaited them when they returned to Vegas, but George wouldn’t listen. Donovan’s hired gun had killed the jeweler and left him in Cosmo’s car as a message. Or had the plan been for Mickey to kill him at the same time?

Mickey had asked for the gems. That meant Turner didn’t have them. And that meant Turner hadn’t left George alive long enough to ask where they were. George would have talked faster than a New Yorker on crack and spilled his guts. Sadly, he probably had done that last part, just not willingly.

“How did Halsted fit into it?” Hunter asked.

“He was a jeweler and a fence.” And a sometime friend.

“Do you still have the jewels, Cosmo?”

He glanced at his watch, knowing it would be only one to two more minutes before he had police swarming this terminal. “They’re safely stowed. Don’t let anything happen to me, or you’ll never find them.”

“Jeez, we’re the ones trying to help you, Cosmo. As long as you have those gems, you’re a walking target. Turn yourself in and let us put you in protective custody.”

“Not yet. You want to capture Turner and whoever’s hired him, and I’m the only one who can do it. Gotta fly!” He hung up the phone and walked calmly through the gate lounge before taking a seat on the other side of the waiting area just as five uniformed cops arrived. As they examined the phones and questioned the people nearby, Cosmo melted into the queue of people debarking and heading toward baggage claim.

Iris sought the sanctuary of her high-rise apartment, desperate for a few hours in an environment that was all her own. As she pulled into the parking garage, she gave thanks her business provided well for her. She didn’t need to count on anyone for anything. She earned a comfortable living, made her own decisions-she’d been on her own since her mom died. At twenty, she’d inherited Lying Eyes and its clientele, so she quit college and threw herself into designing jewelry and running the store. She’d never regretted the decision.

Cosmo had encouraged her to strike out on her own, and now she understood why. He’d had two other daughters still in high school. She wondered why he’d never told her about the others but thought she knew-she hadn’t been much of a daughter to Cosmo, so why would he think she’d do any better as a sister?

Carrying her purse and the dreaded packet of papers, she sauntered through the hot garage to the elevators, conscious that she wanted something, someone. As much as she’d needed to get away, she didn’t really want to be alone. Already she was wondering if Cosmo had been a better father to those other two women than to her. Had she been that big a disappointment that he went out and fathered two other children?

The elevator provided welcome air conditioning to cool her skin if not her nerves as she rode to the eighteenth floor. She was scheduled to meet David in an hour and, for once, she wasn’t looking forward to it. Two sisters and Cosmo’s bigamy weren’t going to ignite anything but disappointment in his eyes. She wanted to be the model wife for him, and here she was about to saddle him with more problems. She had to pull herself together so they could discuss how this affected their future together. Right now, she could barely think, much less talk, about it. She was the emotional equivalent of gum-chewed to a sloppy mess then spit onto the sidewalk without a second thought.