Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

What a horrible revelation.

Cosmo pumped another nickel into the slot machine while he waited. He didn’t bother with the buttons, but used the lever on the side, even though the billowing caftan he wore made it awkward. He’d darkened his skin with stage makeup, so even the backs of his hands were an unfamiliar pale brown. His tongue rubbed at the fake gold cap he’d used to cover a front tooth.

Iris had noticed him peering at her jewelry displays, but she hadn’t consciously recognized him. As dangerous as it was to see her, he felt it was best if he reclaimed the alexandrites he’d dropped off here the other night.

He suspected she’d found them, but he knew in his heart she wouldn’t give them to Mickey. If she’d given him anything, it would be the imitations Irina’s family had sent years ago. They were good copies, but vanadium-treated corundum wouldn’t fool Donovan’s people for long.

Rooting out his wallet, he fed a five-dollar bill into the machine, prepared to play as long as necessary. Hopefully, Iris wasn’t planning on putting in a full day. He pulled the lever and watched the wheels again. An elderly lady in a bright pink rhinestone-studded jogging suit walked down the aisle of mostly empty machines then returned to sit beside him. She stuck her player’s card in the machine and fed it a twenty. Gardenia perfume mixed with the fog of cigarette smoke, making Cosmo long for a Coke and a little fresh air. But he didn’t want to risk missing Iris.

It was time he spoke to her. She deserved that and much more. If anything happened to him, he wanted her to know the truth.

After another half hour, Ginny, Iris’s young shop assistant, arrived and unlocked the door. She relocked the doors from the inside and disappeared into the back. He waited while the store’s bright lights lit up like the Strip. Ginny returned to prop open the big glass doors.

Still no Iris. Cosmo abandoned his machine and wandered over to the store. His late wife, Irina, had loved this shop more than home. Now, Iris had followed in her footsteps.

He nodded to Ginny when she greeted him in her chirpy voice. Methodically, he walked the entire store, perusing every case, listening for any sound of life from the back room. Within two minutes, his sixth sense told him no one else was here besides him and Ginny.

Iris had disappeared on him.

On her day off, the last thing Cory wanted to do was hang out at a casino, especially not the smaller, more claustrophobic ones up on Fremont Street. At least they wouldn’t be overcrowded in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. Even some of the street vendors had chosen not to open up during the hottest part of the day. The neighborhood was pretty empty, except for some tourists who hadn’t figured out the desert’s high heat and low humidity sucked the moisture right out of your body.

Cory looked up at the sign for the Four Queens, its colored light bulb garishness standing out even in the bright afternoon. Papa hadn’t pulled those queens out of her deck yesterday by chance. He’d shown her three, but she knew there was a fourth queen in his world.

A queen she’d hoped never to face again.

With a deep breath, she gripped the brass door handle, prepared to do what she must to help her father.

“Cory!” A shout came from across the street.

She shaded her eyes and turned to see Allie and-what the hell was she doing with Hunter? And why were they here, now? She released her hold on the door with a groan and met them as they crossed the street to her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked them.

“Trying to find Daddy. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Cory clamped her lips shut.

Hunter gave an apologetic nod. “You did tell me yesterday you had reason to believe this would be a good place to look for someone who might know his whereabouts.”

“And did you bring Allie, or did Allie bring you?”

Allie’s face immediately flushed with guilt. “I brought him, okay? I admit it, I told him about you seeing Daddy yesterday.”

Cory bit back a curse as she shot a glance at the detective. To his credit, he looked as uncomfortable as Allie did right now. Tossing her curls back over her shoulder, Cory considered her younger sister again. Apparently, their father hadn’t managed to teach the girl honor.

“Think whatever you want of me, but I want Daddy safe. I’ll use whatever means necessary.”

Cocking her head, Cory raised her brow at her sister before nodding at Hunter. “So he’s just a means to find Papa.”

The detective flushed, and Cory experienced a momentary pang at the thought that maybe he’d developed a thing for Allie. “Not so fun to have the tables turned on you, is it, Detective?”

He squinted through the bright sun at her. “Do you know where your father is, or don’t you?”

“I don’t.” She folded her arms in emphasis.

Hunter folded his arms as if she’d challenged him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you and Iris grew up sharing a bedroom. You’re so much alike it’s scary.”

“Iris!” Allie gasped behind him.

Cory and Hunter both turned, but Allie was rooting in her pants pockets. She finally came up with a cell phone then lifted her head to confront their scrutiny. “I need to call her. I told her I’d pick Edgar up at two.” She stepped into the shade of the building where she could see her phone’s screen better.

This left Cory brewing in the hot sun, still watching Hunter.

And Hunter watching her. “Allie thinks you’re still keeping secrets,” he said, low voiced.

“I’m not going to spill my life to her the first day we meet.” Cory pushed her heavy hair off her neck. “Would you?”

“Fair enough. So what brings you to Fremont Street?”

“Is that a personal or professional question, Detective?” Instinctively, her defenses came up.

“We’ll keep it personal, for now.” He smiled a lazy grin that somehow made his whole demeanor more approachable.

Maybe Allie was on to something, Cory thought.

“Just think of me as a friend of the family.”

Family was precisely what she was already having too many problems with. “I was planning to meet someone, but if you and Allie are going to rope me into some crazy matinee quest for Cosmo-”

Hunter seemed to have stopped listening but looked past her to the Four Queens entrance. “I thought you said Cosmo met his poker playing buddies at the Golden Gate.”

“He does, but he’s much more likely to meet them at three in the morning than at three in the afternoon.” Cory became conscious of perspiration beading on her forehead as Hunter’s narrowed gaze honed in on her.

“So is he sleeping here?”

Her patience snapped. “Why won’t you believe me? I don’t know where Papa is. Why don’t you go ask Iris? You say there are jewels involved. She’s the jeweler.” Cory raked her loose curls back with a frustrated growl.

Allie stepped back to them. “We could ask Iris, except…”

“Except what?” Cory snapped.

Allie pursed her lips as if she really didn’t want to tell either of them. “Except I can’t get a hold of her. You don’t suppose anything’s wrong, do you?”

Mickey moved with the throng of tourists walking along the Strip toward the afternoon’s first pirate show at Treasure Island. He hated these kinds of drops, but as the errand boy, he didn’t get a say in how he delivered the goods. He’d hand over the imitation stones then tail whoever made the pickup from him. He hoped to track down the mastermind of this theft, a man now ordering the deaths of everyone involved.

His phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. Cursing under his breath, he checked the number.