“You son of a bitch.” Iris’s fists settled on her jean-clad hips.
He riffled a hand through his wild silver hair. “I guess I deserve that.” His pale face looked thinner, more haggard, and his eyes, normally bright like a child’s, had a haunted, exhausted haze to them. No flamboyant excuses, no grand gestures, his hands dropped to his sides as he stood and awaited-what?
Her judgment? Her forgiveness? Her acceptance?
“How dare you waltz in here after three days like nothing’s happened?” Remembering that Foote stood outside the door, she managed to keep her voice down. Barely.
“Well, of course stuff has happened. There’s been jewels stolen, and people shot, and-”
“I’m not talking about the alexandrite here, I’m talking about us.”
He blinked at her with wide eyes. “Are you angry with me?”
Oh, he was good. “Don’t try that innocent act on me. I passed angry on Saturday, and that was before I was kidnapped, thank you. Now, Mickey took a bullet for you-you’re lucky he’s not dead, or I might very well be patricidal about now.”
He locked on to the most positive news she’d given him. “Mickey’s all right then, is he? Good man, Mickey. Always knew he liked me.”
“He doesn’t like you, Cosmo. He’s a cop.”
Her father did a double take, but recovered quickly. “Well…of course he is. What, you thought I didn’t know that?” He licked his lips.
Iris vented an audible groan.
“Come help me coax Edgar out from under the bed. He acts like he doesn’t even know me anymore.”
She followed him into the bedroom. If nothing else, it made it less likely Foote would overhear them and burst in to see whether she was all right. In case she did decide to throttle her wayward father, she’d hate to be caught in the act.
Cosmo was on his hands and knees beside the bed. “Come on, Edgar, it’s me. Daddy.”
Watching him coax the rabbit out for a cuddle pissed her off. He hadn’t even offered to hug her. “Edgar’s probably seen through all your lies, and he’s done with you.”
Cosmo looked up at her, then rose with creaky knees. “I doubt if anyone really knows what I’ve been going through, so if you’ve got questions, why don’t you ask them?” He pushed a hand through his wild mop of hair again, sending it into further disarray.
This weekend-and before-had taken its toll on him. He was starting to get old.
Her hands dropped to her sides as she acknowledged he wasn’t the adversary. She didn’t want to fight him; she merely wanted answers. “Why, Cosmo?”
“Why did I steal the jewels?”
“Oh, I’ll get to that in a minute. But first, why did you have three families?”
He heaved a sigh. “It’s not that simple a question.”
“Then don’t lie to me with some simple answer.”
“I didn’t expect you to be bitter,” he said as if he couldn’t fathom it.
Iris barked out a laugh. “I’m not…bitter.” But at least part of her was. All her childhood, she’d been an inadequate daughter, and she wanted to know why. What had he wanted from her?
Cosmo sat on the bed. “I had the good luck-or maybe misfortune-to fall in love with three remarkable women. I traveled in Russia for a year doing my magic act with a local circus troupe, and I met your mother. She was smart, talented, beautiful. I learned she was carrying you before I returned home, so I brought her with me.”
“But you apparently already had two wives, so why marry a third?”
“You don’t know what it’s like to learn you’re going to be a parent. I wanted to do the right thing. Now, would it have been better if I hadn’t married her? Would you be prouder of me if I’d left my first wife-my childhood sweetheart who’d never been able to have a child-after I’d strayed? Would you think better of me if I’d left Russia without a word to Irina and abandoned you to being raised by her family?”
“At least then I would have had a family.”
“You do have a family. You’ve always had one. I’m sorry we all disappointed you. I never fit your image of what a father should be. Your mother was an artist-more involved with her design work than with you. I tried to surround you with good people, even if they were gamblers and performers. We loved you.”
She pictured his definition of good people-his poker-playing cronies, the couple with the trained housecat act, the Asian acrobat family, burly stagehands who taught her rope tricks, the costumer who’d allowed her to help sew sequins on leotards. They’d all lavished time on a little girl. And yet, as a teenager, she’d turned away from all of them.
“You can’t have a family unless you participate. You were always so withdrawn that I never knew what you wanted from me. I just knew I wasn’t doing it right.”
“Why couldn’t I be the most important thing in your world?” Her voice sounded small and childlike to her ear.
“Who says you aren’t?” Then he spoiled it. “But you’re asking me to live in only one world-my world as your father. I don’t know any man who can do that.”
“Come off it. You make it sound like all men have multiple families.”
“Most do. Oh, they might not have simultaneous marriages. I admit, I wouldn’t recommend that to the average man. But through divorce they have ex-wives, children, stepchildren, multiple in-laws. That’s before you add in their careers, or maybe they’re sports enthusiasts-you know ‘golf widow’ isn’t just a catchy term. It’s a real life for many women.”
Iris thought about David, how he could be lost for an hour if the conversation turned to golf. Or the nights he’d canceled dinner plans because he was still with a client. No, he didn’t have crazy schemes, but had she really held any more of his attention?
“I made sure I was always there for your big moments-your birthdays, the school play, that week when you had your wisdom teeth removed.”
Closing her eyes, she smiled. Cosmo had made her milkshakes. Sort of a catastrophe, setting him loose in a kitchen with ice cream, syrup and a blender.
“But you’ve always withheld yourself from me. I never knew what I was doing wrong. I just knew I was a screwup as a father as far as you were concerned. And lately, it’s felt like you didn’t even want me in your life.”
The hurt in his voice chafed her. All these years she’d accused Cosmo of being so selfish, had she been just as self-centered? Had her expectations been too high? In the end, had he harmed her or her mother with his multiple families?
“You’re my firstborn child, and you’ve made me so proud. I wish I could be that father you want, but after this many years, I think we’ll have to agree that’s hopeless.” He stood and smoothed his hands down his coveralls before he looked at her again. “If you could just love me…a little…as I am…”
A sob welled up within her, and she quit trying to rationalize anything except that he was here. She rushed to his open arms, nearly toppling him with her velocity, but he caught her just as he always had.
“There, there, Rissie. I’m here, and I love you. I never lied about that.”
“I do love you, Dad.” So what if he wasn’t a storybook dad, he was her dad. She loved him despite the flaws and foibles. Deep within, her bitterness started to melt as she surrendered her fairy-tale images of the ideal family. Maybe if she quit expecting her father to live up to some level of perfection, she could quit expecting it of herself, too.
She’d planned a future with David because he wanted a time commitment from her more than an emotional one. It had been so businesslike, practical, dull. And believing she’d never been able to hold her father’s love, she’d pushed Mickey away rather than risk losing him.
But Mickey had invaded her senses from the first time he’d touched that loose hairpin. He’d goaded her emotions, engaged her intellect. She’d done more living with him in those brief hours she’d spent with him than in all the months she’d spent with David.
Maybe life wasn’t the interminable ticking of the clock from day to day, but the fleeting magical moments that built memories.
Drawing back, she was able to look her father square in the face and saw a sheen of tears in his eyes that matched hers. “Leave me like that again, and I’ll kill you.”
He chuckled. “Once I wrap this up, I’ll never disappear again.”
Hunter had hoped to get some sleep, but the information he read on a previous day’s murder victim made him return to the hospital. Mickey was never going to believe this break.
He tucked his head into his partner’s room. Mickey lay in bed, propped against some pillows. The television suspended high on the wall played some news channel, but instead of watching it, he was staring at the ceiling.
“Counting your blessings?” Hunter asked as he came in.
Mickey rolled his head to the side to contemplate him. “Iris get home safely?”
“Yeah. Foote’s watching her place. She’s fine. After last night’s escapades, I hope she gets some sleep. You, too.” He stood over the bed and looked at the various monitors. Mickey had more wires coming out of him than a switchboard, but at least his face had lost that ashen gray color. “You’re lucky to be alive, you know. Turner doesn’t usually miss.”
“Yeah, lucky.” He turned back to stare, unseeing, at the television.
“Wow, is that the anesthesia talking-” Hunter pulled up a chair, sat and stretched his tired, swollen feet and no doubt filthy shoes onto the neatly pleated white linens, “-or have you given up again? Because I thought you wanted back in the game, that’s why you said you came out here.” He watched his partner, not happy with that listlessness around the younger man’s eyes.
“Get me out of here, and I’ll finish the job, okay?”
“You don’t go anywhere for at least twenty-four hours,” he answered emphatically. Easing up, he added, “Besides, I bring good news. Your friend Donovan gave me an excuse to show up on his doorstep.”
This caught Mickey’s attention. “What happened?”
“A journalist for the Las Vegas Sun didn’t show up for work yesterday. Today, he turned up dead. Single gunshot. Time of death, Sunday night.”
Mickey’s brow furrowed. “How’d you tie any of that to Donovan?”
“Seems the business editor at the paper got a call from this journalist Sunday evening. He wanted his editor to pull a story he’d written on Robert Donovan. Said he hadn’t been able to verify all his facts, and he feared he might be putting the paper at risk.”
“Now there’s a coincidence.”
“Exactly. I had the editor email me the story. It’s all about Donovan signing a major deal to buy property in Moscow with plans to double the size of his casino there, with the expectation that the Russian government will allow him to restart his gambling operations. Except Donovan hasn’t signed the deal yet. It appears to be on hold for at least a couple of days.”
Their gazes locked and held.
“Gives you a possible connection to the dead real estate broker and translator.” Mickey gave a half-hearted smile. “Wish I could go hunting with you.”
“Don’t worry.” Hunter wiggled his toes inside his shoes one last time, then pulled his legs down and stood. “Even if I nail Donovan, we still have to track down Turner.”
“Do you think he poses any immediate threat to Iris?”
“Your friend Sergei stuck a knife in his arm. I think he’ll lie low at least until dark.”
Mickey nodded slowly as if he were still distracted. “Did you have to arrest Sergei?”
“I was spared that,” Hunter said. “He pulled diplomatic immunity. Did you know he had a Russian government passport?”
Mickey blinked at that piece of news.
“Yeah, the various branches of Cosmo’s families are full of surprises.” Awkwardly, he patted his partner’s bare arm. “Get some rest. There will still be plenty for you to do to wrap this up when you get out of here. Then, you and Iris are home free.”
“Not exactly home. Not free, either.”
Hunter stopped in the doorway. “Sorry to hear that. Did you call it, or did she?”
“She did.”
Hunter nodded, then left without a word. There wasn’t anything you could say to a guy to ease that kind of heartache. He and Mickey hadn’t known each other that long-only a few months, really. He liked the guy, and he liked Iris, too. What he knew of her.
For a moment he was tempted to call Allie, but he pitched that notion in less than a heartbeat. Nothing good ever came from messing around with other people’s personal lives.
Iris escorted Cosmo and his rabbit out of her bedroom so she could shower and change.
“Don’t you want to hear about the gems?” her father asked.
“Shower first. I want to enjoy five minutes of feeling charitable toward you before you piss me off again.”
Cosmo nodded, accepting that as a standard emotional bond between them. “Did you, er, meet your Aunt Tatiana?”
Recalling the previous day’s adventures, Iris smiled. “Yeah, she’s pretty cool. Not many women her age would go out in public in a swimsuit.”
“Swimsuit?” He shuddered. “Well, whatever she told you about the gems, remember, she doesn’t know the whole story.”
“No one knows the whole story, so I’m eager to hear it.” No doubt her father would have his own spin to put on it. “Just let me hop in the shower.”
It took her less than ten minutes to shower and put on a clean pair of Bermuda shorts in a Madras plaid, a melon-colored camp shirt and a pair of low-heeled sandals. She didn’t bother with makeup. Frankly, she was hoping she’d get in a lengthy nap this afternoon.
Stopping for a moment, she tilted her head to listen. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Hastily, she drew her damp curls into a ponytail. Surely, Cosmo couldn’t have left-not with Foote right outside. Maybe he’d fallen asleep. Just in case, she crept out to the living room.
Cosmo sat quietly on the sofa with Edgar beside him. Honestly, the two of them looked like they were waiting for a bus.
“If that rabbit pees on my furniture, you’re going to have to clean it up,” Iris said.
“Somehow, I think that’s the least of your worries.” The cultured male voice chilled her like a cold draft blowing across the room.
Iris spun to see Turner standing just inside the front door. He looked like an average guy in her sunlit apartment-fortyish, tall, lean, thinning dark hair. The danger lay in his hooded eyes and the curling smile that held as much friendliness as a taunted badger. He wore a polo shirt of blood red-Iris felt her stomach churn at the sight of the large bandage circling his upper arm where Sergei’s knife had pierced him-and dark trousers. Crumpled at his feet lay Officer Foote.
She rushed forward to kneel by the young policeman, regardless of any danger to herself. No wound marred him, not even a bruise anywhere on his head. “What did you do to him?” she said, looking up at Turner.
“Relax, I nailed him with a hypodermic. He never even saw it coming. It’s just an anesthetic. He should sleep for a couple hours.”
“You didn’t kill him?” she asked hopefully.
“I’m not some psychopath, Miss Fortune. I don’t kill people for fun. It’s a job, and I have very specific targets.” He looked from her to her father meaningfully.
Oh God. She and her father were about to be murdered, and the only witness would be an overfed rabbit. Iris steeled herself against the panic that tried to envelop her.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Cosmo said. “I think I still have something Donovan wants.”
Turner gripped Iris’s upper arm and yanked her to her feet. “I’m betting on that.” He locked his hand around her throat like a manacle, the pressure enough to make her gasp for breath. In case that didn’t frighten her enough, he brought the gun up to her temple. “Where are the real stones, Cosmo? Tell me, or I’ll kill her right here, right now.”
Her father watched her face carefully. He looked so calm, as if he’d faced death a thousand times. “Don’t do anything rash. I gave the stones to Iris, so if you kill her, we may never find them.”
Turner’s grip eased slightly. His face came into view, his dark eyes glittering like a cobra. “Where are they?”
She summoned up all her bravado. “What, like you’re going to spare us if I tell you?”
That grip tightened again, and Iris feared her eyes might bug out of her head. “I can make your death painless and quick, or I can drag it out for hours. Do you really want me to slice your father up so you can watch him slowly bleed to death?”
Bile rose in her throat, but his grip was too tight to allow anything to pass. She clawed at his hand until he eased off enough for her to draw a shallow breath. “They’re on Edgar’s collar,” she managed to croak.
Cosmo hopped up from his seat. “Iris! How did you-?”
She’d surprised him, or maybe he hadn’t wanted her to tell, but it was too late for that. At least Turner’s grip had slackened. “I found where you stashed the alexandrite in my gem drawer with the simulated corundum. I thought I’d be clever and put the stones on Edgar’s collar for safekeeping. I mean, who would think to look there?”
“Who indeed?” If anything, this information made her father more nervous. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead, and he stroked his goatee. Clearly, he didn’t want Tatiana’s synthetic alexandrite going to Donovan.
“Is she telling the truth, old man?”
“Well, yes, if she says so.” Cosmo swiped his brow. “I haven’t seen the real gems in days.” He threw her a look.
Iris had no idea what that look meant.
Turner didn’t trust it. “No guarantees, huh? Not that I expected any from you.”
Cosmo gathered Edgar into his arms. “Tell you what, Turner, let her go. Take me and the rabbit.”
“No. I’ll tell you what, Fortune. I’ll take you, your daughter and that collar. We’ll test those stones, and if they’re the genuine article, then we’re all squared away.”
“You’ll let her go?” Cosmo asked, clearly suspicious.
“No, but I’ll let your other two daughters go.”
Iris stiffened. Twisting to see his face, she came nose to nose again with that gun barrel.
“My other two daughters?” Cosmo’s voice had grown weak.
This only strengthened her resolve. “You bastard, if you hurt them-”
Turner tugged her close, the chill of the metal gun pressed against the pulse in her throat. “Relax, princess. Jock and Pebbles have them safe and sound. Do everything we say, and they won’t need to die.”
Grimly, she nodded.
He turned to her father. “Now, bring the rabbit. Let’s go.” Turner’s voice reverberated in her ear as he continued to hold her close. “And don’t try anything funny.”
“Me?” Cosmo blinked innocently. Too innocently. She knew that look.
Adrenaline rushed as she considered he might have a plan. He’d escaped Mickey and those two thugs more than once.
Turner marched them through her building’s lobby. Hidden beneath her blouse, his gun pressed against the small of her back. It was laughably easy for him to abduct them. Iris thought about putting up a struggle, but Turner’s granite expression didn’t encourage her to think she would survive the attempt. Cosmo followed with Edgar, subdued by her danger.
A black town car awaited them at the end of the driveway. “Get in,” Turner ordered.
Iris ducked her head and found Robert Donovan sitting inside. He slid over to make room for her and her father. With a last look around for any miraculous rescue, she climbed in. Behind her, Turner stowed his gun in his waistband and grabbed Cosmo’s arm.
Leaning into the car, Turner said to his boss, “The jewels are on the rabbit’s collar.”
Donovan looked sideways at Iris. “Clever.”
Outside there was a flurry of activity. Cosmo stuffed Edgar into Turner’s arms. Caught by surprise, the hit man juggled the rabbit while Edgar kicked and pawed at him. Meanwhile, Cosmo took off back up the sidewalk.
“Cosmo, come back here!” Turner yelled.
“Gotta run!” Cosmo’s reply floated back to her.
Edgar managed to squirm loose from his captor and slipped to the ground. Turner reached for his gun, his eyes trained on where Cosmo had disappeared around the corner of the building. Iris lunged toward him, but Donovan’s hand snaked out to grab her arm.
“No, you fool!” he ordered Turner. “Get that rabbit. We can’t let those gems get away.”
Turner dropped to the ground to search under the car. Terror clogged Iris’s throat as she waited for the single gunshot that would signal the end of Edgar’s life.
“Come on, Edgar,” she whispered, praying for the rabbit’s escape.
As if she’d called him, Edgar suddenly appeared near Turner’s feet. In three jumps, he hopped across the man’s back and into the town car to land on her lap. She clutched him tightly, tears stinging her eyes.
Turner rose up on his hands and knees, his angry gaze boring into her as he rubbed grit from his chin with the back of his hand.
Donovan chuckled. “A well-trained rabbit, though he’s only prolonged the inevitable.” He turned to watch Turner stand and wipe off his clothes. “Find Cosmo and take care of him. And be sure Kincaid’s out of the picture.”
“What about the woman?”
“I’ll hold on to her until you get back.”
Turner’s glittering eyes made her an unwanted promise to see her later. He turned to Donovan. “I’ll look in on Jock and Pebbles, too.”
“Good idea.”
Turner closed the door and strode off in Cosmo’s wake.
As the town car pulled away, Iris twisted to stare out the back window, saying a final farewell to her father. She was grateful she’d been given that last conversation with him, a chance to understand him a bit better. He said he’d always be there for her when she needed him, but she prayed he would stay far away this time. Cory and Allie needed his help now.
She pulled Edgar close, foolishly feeling sorry the poor rabbit had gotten caught up in this whole mess. She never doubted her own death. Once Donovan discovered these gems were merely synthetic copies of the historic alexandrite they sought, she’d be nothing but a very big liability.
Marko and Viktor sat in companionable silence at the suite’s dining table enjoying coffee and pastries. Marko strained an ear for his aunt. She should be awake by midmorning.
Viktor sensed his unrest and followed the tilt of his head. “Sergei surrendered to pressure. He’s giving her a backrub.”
Enlightened, Marko returned to his coffee. “What would you like to do today?”
His brother shrugged.
Sadly, Marko had to agree. For all the-as the Americans said-hype, he’d found Las Vegas to be nothing more than any other large city with lots of business conducted, lots of tourists visiting, and lots of traffic. Granted, there were fine restaurants and unparalleled entertainers all on this Strip.
Still, it all left him a little flat. Somehow, he’d expected more. “Perhaps we should all see a show tonight.”
Viktor raised beleaguered eyes, as if the thought of finding a show their aunt and they could equally enjoy was too difficult a task to undertake.
“Maybe the pool today. Do you think it will be too hot for her?” Marko sipped his coffee.
His brother took a bite from his danish. Setting it down, he brushed powdered sugar from his upper lip as he chewed. “Rent her a cabana.”
An excellent suggestion, but the telephone rang before he could tell Viktor so. Heaving himself up from the table, Marko answered the phone on the desk.
“Marko?” The voice on the other end was nearly breathless in its rush to speak.
Cosmo. “Such a surprise to hear from you. You never answer your phone.”
“Marko, listen to me. I need your help.”
The stress in Cosmo’s voice caught Marko by surprise. “I’m listening.”
“I’m in some trouble, rather big trouble. Someone has kidnapped my daughters.”
“Iris?”
“Iris…and my other two daughters.”
Marko blinked. Waving to Viktor, he motioned for him to pick up the telephone extension.
“I can’t explain it all. I’m going to try and get Iris now. But the other girls are being held in the downtown district. I need you to get them free.”
Marko drew a breath. “This is a large order to ask when you have lied and cheated us. Why should we risk ourselves to help you?”
“Please. They’re Iris’s half sisters, and if I screw this up, they’re going to be killed.”
Across the living room, Viktor stood and laid his phone back in the cradle with a nod. He strode to Tatiana’s bedroom and knocked on the door.
“Very well,” Marko said into the phone. If his brother agreed this was worth doing, he would do it. “I’ll need whatever details you have.” Quickly, he gathered a pen and transcribed the address and instructions Cosmo dictated. “Are you sure about all of this?”
“No, so be careful. And if they’re not there, call me right away.”
“Of course. Will you be working alone?”
“I’m taking Mickey with me.”
“Good.” He had long since abandoned the dramatic flair of working alone, but one could never tell with Cosmo. And Mickey struck him as a worthy ally. “Beregi zdorovie.”
“You take care yourself,” Cosmo said gruffly. “And Marko, thank you.”
Marko hung up the phone and tore off the sheet of paper containing his scribbled notes. Already, adrenaline was coursing through him, rejuvenating his limbs and making him stand taller. When he turned, he found Viktor had routed Sergei and Aunt Tatiana from the adjoining room. The three of them waited expectantly.
“What is it we must do?” Tatiana asked from her wheelchair.
“Viktor and I must run an errand for Cosmo. Sergei will stay here with you.” With a heavy frown at his nephew, he made it clear this was a command.
Tatiana beat the floor once with the tip of her cane. “The hell you say.”
Not that he’d expected her to accept being left behind willingly. “Aunt Tatiana, we must work fast, and it could be very dangerous.”
She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with a clarity he hadn’t seen in months, maybe years. Already, color was blooming in her cheeks at the very thought of an adventure. “Finally, we are to have some fun here, yes?”
Marko had to admire her grit. Gaining a silent nod of assent from Viktor, he surrendered the notion of leaving her behind-she’d only make his life hell afterward. In fact, now that he thought of it, she might prove very useful.