“No slander here, but I’ll make you a promise.” Heath’s voice was stronger and colder and harder than he would have believed. “You’re not going to get away with what you’ve done.”
“Hollow words, Detective.” Gibson took in an easy breath. “You can’t prove I’ve gotten away with anything.”
“I will.”
A little round man wearing a suit and a frown walked to Heath’s side. “Please, sir, I must ask that you leave the premises. Otherwise I will be forced to summon the police. I am sure neither one of us wants that.”
Heath didn’t want that. He didn’t know how much it would take to get him thrown out of the city, but he definitely wanted to stop short of that point. If Lauren was going to insanely continue her observation of Gibson, Heath wanted to pull all of the man’s attention to himself and hope that the woman escaped notice.
“Sure. I’ll go.” Heath locked eyes with Gibson, but the magician just returned his attention to his iPad. “But I’ll be around.”
A gold coin suddenly appeared in Gibson’s hand, then rolled across his knuckles and disappeared in a twinkling.
Seething, barely under control, Heath turned and left the restaurant. Roylston and his two companions didn’t return to their seats till after Heath had stepped into the street and headed for the parking lot. Two of the restaurant staff followed him, both of them good-sized guys who probably handled aggressive guests.
Heath swore at himself. He had intended to play the surveillance cool. Just watch and learn. But thinking of Lauren Cooper getting involved and perhaps getting hurt because she didn’t know any better had thrown him off his game. The woman was going to cause all sorts of problems for—
From the corner of his eye, Heath caught sight of a familiar figure walking into the restaurant.
Lauren had ditched the beachwear for a lightweight dress that accentuated her figure. Heath realized that the only way she could have possibly gotten dressed that quickly around here was changing in the car on the drive over. He hadn’t been at the restaurant that long. Imagining her changing her clothing in the car was distracting, and by the time he’d realized she was still moving, she was inside the restaurant.
Heath tried to follow, but two staff members stepped toward him. The bigger one shook his head.
Disgusted with the situation, Heath held up his hands in surrender, then turned and jogged across the street to his car. He unlocked the door and climbed inside, then picked up his binoculars and followed Lauren Cooper’s progress through the restaurant.
She looked beautiful...and too vulnerable.
* * *
Walking through the restaurant was a performance. Lauren focused on that, telling herself that again and again as she closed in on Gibson’s table. She didn’t take a direct route because that would have drawn too much attention and possibly put the man on the defensive. She wasn’t sure exactly how she wanted to approach Gibson, but she thought if she could get him talking, maybe she could learn something.
She paused at the bar long enough to order a glass of wine. From her vantage point, she had a clear view of Gibson. The man seemed consumed by his tablet, pausing every now and again to tap on the surface, presumably sending emails.
He didn’t look like a killer. Lauren had tried to picture Gibson as that, as the man who had taken Megan’s life, but she couldn’t. The man was magic, capable of captivating an audience and doing the impossible right before everyone’s eyes. The magicians who gathered at the magic store spoke of Gibson with awe and envy. Many of them didn’t understand how Gibson had hit the public eye so easily. His connections with the media had seemed equally as magical.
She sipped her wine, barely tasting it.
Screwing up her courage, afraid that Gibson was only there for drinks and would soon get up and leave, Lauren left the wine on the bar and headed in the general direction of the bathroom.
On the way there, Gibson pierced her with his stare.
For a moment, Lauren was afraid that Gibson had somehow recognized her. Megan had carried photos of them together in her purse. If Gibson had killed Megan, he might have gone through her things. There was nothing in the White Rabbit files that had indicated any such interest, though. The man had simply killed his victims. Except for Detective Janet Hutchins. The killer had taken his time and tortured her.
This is a performance. Perform. Lauren forced herself to smile and turned to face Gibson. She turned off all her feelings of loss and pain and battened them down deep inside herself the way she had when she’d been in the foster homes. She’d learned how to perform there first, and she’d learned how to be invisible even in a crowd.
She crossed the distance to Gibson’s table and held out a hand, holding her clasp purse in her other hand. “Gibson? The Gibson? The magician?” She put as much “ooh” and “ahh” into her voice as she could, surprised at how easy it was even under these conditions. She was a fan of his work, after all.
The man seated at the table stood and put a hand out to block her advance, stopping just short of actually touching her. “I’m going to have to ask you to stand back, miss.”
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself.” Lauren continued to look at Gibson. “It’s just that I’m one of your biggest fans. I saw the show you did in—” she started to say Chicago, then realized that might remind him of Megan and make him cautious “—Minneapolis two years ago.” She had seen the Chicago show in person, with Megan, but she had watched the Minneapolis performance on HBO. “I still can’t figure out how you made that big Humvee disappear.”
Gibson plucked a speared olive from his drink and leaned back in his seat. He popped the olive into his mouth and bit down. “It was magic, of course.”
Lauren forced herself to grin like a loon. “Of course it was.” She looked at the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”
The big man took his hand back but didn’t sit. He kept his face neutral and never took his gaze from her. “Mr. Gibson prefers his space.”
“I understand. I don’t mean to be a bother, but I didn’t know you were here. Are you performing?”
Gibson shook his head and flashed white teeth. “No. A bit of a vacation actually.”
Lauren smiled. “This is a great place for a vacation.” Several of the nearby guests kept track of the conversation with obvious interest.
Gibson’s gaze traveled up and down Lauren, and for a moment the cold appraisal in his dark eyes made her want to shiver. Part of his interest was sexual, she recognized that, and she squelched her immediate impulse to walk away. There was something dirty and hungry in Gibson’s attention, and that surprised her.
This man killed Megan. The thought rocketed through Lauren’s head with iron-clad conviction. She didn’t know precisely what had caused her to suddenly believe that, but she did.
“It is.” Gibson dropped the plastic spear from the olive back into his empty drink glass. “You should enjoy your time here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think that’s my lunch.” He pointed over her shoulder.
Turning slightly, Lauren found one of the servers waiting patiently behind her with food on a tray. Lauren stepped back out of the way. “I apologize for coming over.”
Gibson ignored her, focusing on the server as she placed the salad, soup and seafood dish on the table in front of him. “Not a problem. I’m glad you enjoyed the show. I look forward to bedazzling you in the future.”
Dismissed, Lauren started to go. She had never in her life tried to approach a man like that, hoping to get herself invited to his table. Getting sent on her way in such a cavalier fashion actually stung in spite of all the other mixed feelings about Megan. It also frustrated her because she didn’t know how she was supposed to get close enough to the man to find out more.
“Miss.”
Lauren turned back to Gibson. He held up an empty hand, then turned it, closed it and opened it again. A silver coin lay in his palm.
“A memento, perhaps?�
� Gibson held the coin perched at the end of his thumb and forefinger.
“I’d love one.” Lauren made herself smile as she reached for the coin. The metal felt cold and hard against her skin. She closed it in her fist. “Thank you. I’ll be looking forward to your next show.”
Gibson nodded, but his attention was already on the meal in front of him.
Lauren headed back to the bathroom feeling miserable but turned and walked out of the restaurant a different way than she’d entered. She felt miserable because seeing Gibson there, so nonchalantly going on with his life even if he hadn’t killed Megan—which Lauren no longer believed—bothered her deeply. She wasn’t going to just walk away and accept things, but she didn’t know what she was going to do to change things, either.
* * *
A large shadow fell over Lauren as she used the key fob to open the locks on her rental. She checked the reflection in the window glass to see who had made the shadow. She thought it might be the big man who had been sitting with Gibson. That guy had looked as if he was no stranger to violence.
She turned around with the keys clenched between her fingers, ready to strike out if she had to. Her other hand held her clasp purse, but her fingers had already started lifting the door handle.
Heath Sawyer stopped only a few inches away, just short of touching her. The heat from his body radiated against her, and the smell of his cologne and natural musk filled her nose and made her senses dance. God, why did the man have to look so good? She had never been so captivated by a man she’d spent so little time with.
Part of that was blunted by the angry set to his mouth and jaw. His sunglasses hid his eyes. When he spoke, his voice came out as a half growl.
“What do you think you were doing in there?”
“I was trying to prove you wrong about Gibson. I thought if I talked to him, maybe I could find out something that you and the local police haven’t been able to discover about Megan’s death.” Anger poured out of Lauren and she directed it at Heath. “You were so sure of yourself that I thought you were too locked in to know what you were doing.”
“He’s the guy who killed your sister.”
Lauren took a breath. “I know.”
Heath had started to say something. Now he paused, thought for a moment, and closed his mouth. The blank lenses over his eyes hid any clue as to what he was thinking. “You know he’s the guy? Did he say something to you?”
“Like, ‘I did it? I killed your sister, and I killed all those other women’?” Lauren shook her head and crossed her arms. She was on the verge of tears, and she didn’t like that. Crying was a weakness. It didn’t solve any problems, and often it only made them worse. If she could have gotten in her car and driven away, she would have been all right. Heath Sawyer had just caught her at the wrong time. “No, he didn’t say anything like that.”
“Then what did he say?”
“He gave me this.” Lauren handed over the coin she’d gotten from Gibson. It was a two-headed disc that featured Gibson on stage on one side and an empty stage on the other.
Heath took the coin and looked at it. “What’s this?”
“One of Gibson’s tokens. He uses them in his magic act in front of audiences. Hands them out so people can flash them around, tell everybody they’ve seen the amazing Gibson.” Lauren heard the vitriol in her words and was surprised. Only a short time ago she’d been a Gibson fan intending to prove the magician’s innocence.
“He gave this to you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a jerk. Because he thought I was his Number One Fan and this was consolation prize because I didn’t get to talk with him more.” With deceptive ease, Lauren plucked the coin from Heath’s fingers, then rolled it across her knuckles, exposing the sides in rapid syncopation. “See how Gibson seems to appear and disappear? It’s an optical illusion if you learn how to roll the coin right.”
She popped the coin into the air so that it spun and caught the bright sunlight. Then she caught it in her palm, closed her hand and turned it over, palmed it smoothly with her other hand while she acted like she was pointing to her hand with her forefinger. When she opened her hand, the coin was gone.
Stone-faced, Heath looked at her. She was suddenly aware of how close they were, and it was almost like he was giving off enough gravity to pull her into his orbit. For a moment, she wanted to just lean in and give herself over to him, let him put his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be all right. She wanted comfort from him like she hadn’t wanted anything in a long time.
Instead, Heath remained those few inches away. “You need to stay out of this. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know how much danger you’re exposing yourself to.”
That rekindled the anger inside Lauren, and she gave herself over to it. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Believe me, it’s not a privilege. You’re interfering with police business.”
“What police business?” Her voice came out louder than she’d expected and drew the attention of a small group of passersby. “This isn’t your turf, Detective Sawyer. You don’t have any more right here than I do, and you definitely don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”
“Somebody needs to. You’re out of control.”
“Out of control?” Lauren clamped her jaw on a torrent of swear words only because some of the people walking past had small children in their care. She lowered her voice with effort. “I’m not out of control.”
“Yeah, you are.” Heath cocked his head to one side. “You should be home, not here.”
“What would I do there?”
“Grieve. Go back to work. Take care of your mother. From what I saw at the funeral, she needs someone there with her right now.”
The sudden guilt felt like salt rubbed into a wound. “Leave my mother out of this.”
His face softened a little and his voice gentled. “You can do more good there than you can here.”
Lauren knew the argument was a good one, and that it was probably true, but she also knew she couldn’t walk away from the investigation into Gibson. Maybe Megan would have gone with the magician anyway that night, because he was a good-looking man, but she’d been made more vulnerable by Lauren’s interest in him. She couldn’t leave while Gibson was loose. She didn’t like feeling helpless, and she didn’t appreciate Heath pointing that out. “Like you’re doing so much good here. Why don’t you go home and grieve over your partner? Maybe that’s what you should be doing.”
Too late, Lauren knew that what she’d said was too much. It was more than she’d intended, just spewed out of painful vindictiveness. Despite the sunglasses, the hurt showed on Heath’s face. She wanted to apologize, but she didn’t know how to start and was convinced that, at the moment at least, any apology would do no good.
His voice turned cold and hard. “If you keep interfering with Gibson, you’re going to get yourself hurt.”
Lauren couldn’t back off. She wasn’t going to be cowed or sent to her room like that little girl she’d been. She’d come a long way since those days. “Maybe if I do, you’ll catch him this time.”
Heath snarled inarticulately and turned away from her. He never looked back as he crossed the street to another parking lot.
Lauren got into the hot car, turned the engine on and set the air-conditioner on high. Great trick there, Lauren. Alienate the only guy who might be able to help you. She leaned her head on the steering wheel for a moment, then she centered herself, put the car in gear and headed back to her hotel. She didn’t know where else to go at the moment.
Chapter 9
The next two days passed like vague memories of the first. Lauren set up on the beach with a view of Gibson’s villa and kept watch. The magician stayed put. A few of his men went into the city, always in pairs. On the second day, Lauren followed them and discovered they were evidently taking downtime away from the villa, visitin
g restaurants and strip clubs. The Palais Royale Night Club seemed to be the favorite.
During that excursion, Lauren noted that Heath had evidently had the same idea or had followed her. He always positioned himself where he could watch over her and the villa, and that irritated her because it meant he didn’t trust her to keep herself safe.
When the two bodyguards went into a club called the Bronze Parrot, Heath followed. The reggae beat swirled out over the street as hucksters in front of the bar shouted out to passing pedestrian traffic and cars.
The thought of Heath watching dancers gyrate inside the club bothered Lauren more than she wanted it to. He was just there observing the two bodyguards. She knew that, but the idea of him inside the club chafed her.
She briefly considered following him into the club, then put it out of her mind. Her beachwear wasn’t appropriate attire for the place, and she had nothing suitable to wear into the club in the back of the car. In fact, she hoped she had nothing suitable to wear there at all.
She turned the car around and retreated to the villa, telling herself that she was going to catch Gibson leaving, and Heath would miss out.
That didn’t happen. She spent the day watching the villa, and nothing stirred. Hours later, Heath followed the bodyguards back and resumed his observation post.
As she sat in the chaise and listened to the sound of the gentle waves lapping at the coastline and the laughing voices of the volleyball players, Lauren used her iPhone to access Twitter. She’d keyed in Gibson’s name as a trending topic. Unfortunately, since Gibson was the only name she was able to enter and Gibson Magician didn’t pull up Tweets any better, she had to sort through a lot of entries.
Shortly before sundown, she received an email from Morganstern.
No Escape Page 9