Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

Sergei nodded. “How do we start?”

“We play slots.” Iris pulled some bills from her pocket and handed everyone a twenty. “And we wait.”

“Let’s hope it’s a security guard,” Cosmo whispered in the dark workroom. Thank God he’d stopped at the men’s room on the way here.

“I don’t think that’ll be much of an improvement for me today.” Mickey sounded decidedly unhappy with the situation.

The solid door opened with a brief rusty squeak.

“I told you I saw him come in here.” Cosmo recognized the voice but knew Jock didn’t waste that ingratiating tone on Pebbles.

The human steamroller filled the doorway, blocking any light from the hall. “Can I turn on the lights?”

“No.” The third voice came from behind the door. Apprehension rippled up Cosmo’s spine as he recognized Sam Turner. “Leave the lights off.”

Not that it mattered. Jock had already spotted him.

“Hiya, Cosmo. Pebbles and I heard you were pushin’ up daisies.” Jock’s gold tooth flashed in the light of the exit sign high on the wall.

Cosmo held his ground. It was an instinctual action, like maybe he could disappear into the scenery around him. But the workroom didn’t offer much in the way of hiding options. He stole a glance at the door to the sales floor.

Silhouetted by the few lights left burning behind him, Mickey made a classic target. He leaned as insolently against the doorframe as a silhouette could exude insolence. “Come on in, Turner.”

“Kincaid.” Turner pushed the door closed behind him. “Either you were mistaken about having killed Fortune, or you don’t have a good understanding of what death means.”

“I’m sure you’d like to teach me the error of my ways.”

“What, did I walk into a gangster movie?” Cosmo asked loudly. Mickey didn’t deserve to die, not for helping Iris.

“What do you want us to do, Mr. Turner?” Jock asked.

“Take Fortune out to the car. We have some unfinished business with him.”

Pebbles came forward, but Cosmo knew better than to allow the giant to lay a hand on him. He conjured up a deck of cards. “Sure, boys, I’ll walk out with you.” But when Pebbles reached for him, he sprayed the deck in the giant’s face. “Fifty-two pickup!” He made a dash for the front door while the cards were still fluttering to the floor.

Of course, this meant getting by Mickey, but he thought the kid would work with him once they had a diversion. Pebbles hunkered down to gather cards, and Jock swatted at the big guy’s shoulders. They had ample opportunity to run.

Was Mickey running? No, he’d drawn his gun. What, like he thought he was Humphrey Bogart? Didn’t he understand you didn’t draw a gun on Turner unless you expected to get-

BANG!

– shot? Cosmo careened past Mickey, bumping into him and knocking him off balance. Or maybe that hadn’t been him. Maybe-

“Cosmo, get out of here.”

“Did he get you?” Hell, now even he was talking like this was freakin’ Casablanca.

“Don’t worry about me. Get to Iris-take her to the police. You two need to be safe.”

Cosmo reached out to steady the younger man, only to feel the sticky warmth of blood.

Mickey was hunkered down, peering into the workroom. Though injured, he seemed steady and alert.

“Come on, Mickey boy, I’ll get you out of here.”

“No, I need to take Turner. Now, go!”

Cosmo hesitated. Now, there was a bad sign. He’d always known when to retreat. He’d made a career out of disappearing. And both those opportunities had come and gone-what was he still doing here?

“I can’t leave you.”

“Jesus, Cosmo, don’t be a hero. Get the hell out of here.”

A shot ricocheted off the doorframe near Mickey’s head.

Cosmo launched himself back into the workroom. Running as fast as his bow legs would carry him, he nearly tripped over Pebbles, who was still kneeling on the floor, covering his own head. Poor dolt-loved the look and feel of guns, but never liked the sounds they made.

“Come on, Pebbles.” Cosmo hefted the larger man. Their velocity and weight carried them forward until they knocked into Jock.

Yeah, Jock and Pebbles were expendable. Getting them out of here would help even Mickey’s odds. Cosmo judo chopped Jock across the shoulder. To his amazement, the cheesy move Allie had taught him worked, and Jock dropped his gun. One kick sent it skittering across the floor.

Cosmo didn’t waste time going after it. He dashed for the back door. “Jock, Pebbles, come on. Turner told us to wait in the car.” He ducked into the corridor, a hunted fox only a few steps ahead of the hounds.

Fortunately, the hounds were none too bright. But the long, straight, well-lit corridor would give them ample time to catch-or shoot-him. As the door behind him opened again, Cosmo made a dash for the casino.

Dragging breath into his burning lungs, he ran like a madman. At least Mickey had had a weapon. Cosmo had nothing but his wits. If he didn’t make it to his car first, he’d wind up dead.

Heavy footfalls thundered behind him. “Cosmo, stop!” Jock yelled.

Like hell! Cosmo smashed through the doors that opened from the service corridor into the carpeted hallway connecting the shops to public restrooms and an exit. It was tempting to head outside, but the fastest way to the parking garage was through the casino and lobby. Besides, he might just lose these guys in the crowd.

He turned and sprinted toward the main walkway through the casino, his path taking him past Iris’s storefront.

“Cosmo!” The woman’s shout made him falter. Turning to look, he spied Iris, shock splattered on her face.

“Can’t stop!” He hooked a thumb behind him and kept running.

Iris was a smart girl. She’d figure it out.

It had finally happened. Iris had flipped.

There was no way she was seeing Cosmo running through the Bellagio, his wild silver hair sticking up like some mad professor. He wore a light blue jumpsuit that looked like paint coveralls or maybe a janitor’s uniform. His feet pumped away in a pair of orange high-tops.

She was still dumbfounded by the image when she saw Jock and Pebbles barreling after him. “Oh my God, come on!” Without hesitation, she lunged in pursuit. She only hoped the others would follow.

People dove out of their path, the way already cleared for the most part by Pebbles’s bulk. What he lacked in speed, he more than made up in presence. Iris felt confident she could catch them. But then what?

Foote pulled abreast of her. “What’s going on?” He didn’t even have the grace to sound winded.

Iris pointed at the two men running ahead. “Those…are my…kidnappers.”

“Got it.” He picked up speed. “Halt! Police!”

Jock faltered as he looked over his shoulder. Realizing he was being chased, he took off with a burst of renewed energy, drawing ahead of Pebbles. The two of them veered off the main walkway between banks of slot machines.

Foote dashed after them.

Iris slowed, realizing she’d lost sight of Cosmo. Her sisters caught up to her.

“Where’s Papa?” Cory asked.

Iris shook her head while she dragged breath in to her lungs. If she tried to speak, she might throw up.

A commotion between two crowded craps tables made the others crane their necks, but Iris had gone cold with worry. Where was Mickey?

“Let’s check that,” Cory said.

“I’ve got to find Mickey.” Already, Iris was striding back toward her store. Out of breath or not, she broke into a run. She fumbled in her jeans pocket for her keys as she reached the front doors.

Hands grabbed her from behind.