Amy Atwell - Lying Eyes

“Got it.”

“Come on, Pebbles.”

The big guy didn’t budge. “Say uncle.”

Mickey could barely breathe as the giant added more pressure, forcing what little air was left from his lungs. “Fuck you,” he managed.

“Pebbles! Come on,” Jock ordered.

The weight lifted from his back, but then the gun slammed into his skull a second time, and by the time Mickey’s head cleared, his two assailants had left. Slowly, he rolled onto his back, checking to be sure his spine was still connected. His head pounded.

“I really need to find another line of work.”

A shuffling sound approached him followed by a gentle nuzzling in his hair. Great, Edgar had come to check on him.

“See what you’ve gotten us into?”

The rabbit hobbled around his head, sniffing and exploring, while Mickey stared at the water-stained ceiling and planned his next move. A mistake to have suggested the rabbit was a key to the jewels. But then, maybe the rabbit could help him buy some time.

“Edgar, you and I need to have another little talk with your aunt Iris.”

Releasing a frustrated huff, Iris pushed her work lamp out of the way and climbed off her stool. Her fingers ached as she slid the magnifying goggles from her face and blinked a few times to bring her vision back to real-world size. Wow, she’d been at it for over an hour. Usually focusing her energy on her work relaxed her, took her to another place. Today was a lost cause-this latest Cosmo crisis was a nightmare.

Worst of all, she couldn’t reach him. Cosmo always answered his calls or returned them as soon as possible. She’d left a message last night when she got home and another this morning after that detective had left the store.

“Iris, telephone!” Ginny, her perpetually cute assistant, stuck her head in the doorway of the store’s design studio. Seeing Iris free, she brought the cordless phone, her hand over the mouthpiece. “Someone named Mickey, and he sounds positively sinful.”

“Give me that.”

Ginny handed over the phone and waited until Iris pointed her to the door. With a laugh like some invisible fairy tickled her, she shot back out to the sales floor.

Iris waited until she was sure she was alone. Not that she had anything to hide. “Iris Fortune.”

“I hear the police visited you this morning. Guess your dad’s really MIA, huh?”

Her heart fluttered at the rich timbre of his voice. “What do you want?”

“What did he say when he called you last night?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. Cosmo called you on your cell at the party last night.”

She recalled the glass of red wine and Mickey’s intense dark eyes watching her from the shadows. Squaring her shoulders, she perched on her stool. “You were spying on me.”

He laughed. “Don’t sound so outraged. Every guy in town would be spying on you if he had the chance. Now, what did he tell you?”

“He didn’t call, and I have no idea where he is. And if you keep harassing me, I’m going to tell the police about our little conversation last night.”

“No chance. If you were going to spill it about me, you would have done it already.” He sounded too cocksure of himself for her taste.

“How do you know I haven’t?”

“You wouldn’t be threatening to if you’d already done it.”

She pursed her lips, but said nothing.

“And you won’t give me up because-” Mickey’s voice dropped low. “Because, Iris Fortune, deep down, you’re worried about your dad. He may not be much, but he’s all the family you’ve got. You want him back, but you’re afraid he’s gotten himself into something so bad, the police won’t help him. You’re already thinking you might need ol’ Mickey here to help you out.”

“I am not.”

“No? Then think about it some more. I’ll look in on you later.”

“Later? Like tonight? I don’t know where I’ll be.” Recognizing the quickening of her pulse, Iris aligned her design tools into a neat row on the worktable.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll find you.” The phone clicked and went dead.

“Damn.” Iris set the phone down with more force than she intended. She wasn’t sure whether her frustration stemmed from his threat to ruin her evening again or that he’d ended their conversation so abruptly. Neither reason was a good sign.

“Everything all right?” Ginny grinned at her from the doorway.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Oh, cuz, you know, he had a sexy voice, and now you’re agitated, and it sounds like maybe you’re seeing him later-”

The problem with having a psych major as a sales assistant was that Iris got free analysis when she least wanted it. “It’s not what you think. He’s…my cousin.” Great, another lie. First her security company, now her staff.

Ginny smirked. “Nice try. Cousins are never that sexy.”

On any other day, Ginny’s teasing would be sweet. Today, it grated on every one of Iris’s exposed nerves. “Maybe it’s best if you pay more attention to the store and less to my personal life.”

Ginny’s smile disintegrated. “Sorry, Iris, you’re right. It’s not my place. It’s just you’ve got this fairy-tale image of your life, and I’d hate to see you disappointed.” Before Iris could reply, the co-ed slipped out the door again.

Fairy-tale image of her life? She almost called the younger woman back to set her straight. Iris held no illusions of what her life was, though she did her best to pass it off as normal. What was so wrong about that?

She stood to stretch her shoulders and back, but the uncomfortable feeling dogging her was less physical and more a general uneasiness. Here she thought she’d conquered that when she declared her independence from Cosmo. Except there was no escaping her father’s shenanigans, no matter how hard she tried.

Her gaze roamed the workroom. She’d come in early to check every drawer, every case in the whole store. Nothing was missing. Why had Cosmo come here last night? The cash was all accounted for and every bit of metal and stone waited precisely where she’d left it. Had he needed a place to hide? Had he done something awful? Could that detective be right-had Cosmo killed someone last night?

No, she wouldn’t believe it. Cosmo might have been a disappointing father, but he wasn’t a killer. A double-talking, double-crossing man of tricks and schemes, Cosmo always played his greatest advantage-he believed both sides of any story, so you could never convince him he wasn’t telling the truth no matter what he said. He was like a little kid, completely disingenuous. Iris had always suspected that’s what her mother loved about him.

But the same little-kid lack of responsibility made it all the more probable that Cosmo had fathered other children without guilt. Iris had no doubts that if her mother had discovered his infidelity, Cosmo would have talked his way back into her good graces again. He lived his life like an alley cat anyway, disappearing for long periods-traveling with the magic act, so he claimed-and Mom had let him come and go without question.

Iris had left her own questions unasked, though she’d had plenty of them. By the time she was thirteen, it was obvious her father had more important things in his life than her and her mother. Iris had always steered clear of his magic act, his gambling friends, anything she felt might be competing with her for his attention. Instead, she spent her time with her mother at this shop, learning the art of crafting high-end costume jewelry. While Iris didn’t deal in diamonds, emeralds or rubies, her pieces sold for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of dollars.

And it was hers. When Mom died, Iris had inherited Lying Eyes. Cosmo had no claim on the store, the jewelry, or on her anymore. So what did it matter if he’d fathered two other girls?