by A B Plum
Amber laughed—a sound that made Ryn recall Bela Lugosi and Peter Lorie—two of Stone’s favorite classic B-stars.
The elevator door slid open. Amber stepped out, waving the gun at Ryn, who obeyed the non-verbal command and entered the brilliantly lit living room. Amber called in a tinny falsetto, “Honey? We’re home.”
Danny faced them from behind the bar. Two twists to the champagne cork and it popped out, arcing in the air and hitting Beau on the cheek.
With his hands and feet tied and a handkerchief covering his mouth, Beau didn’t flinch.
“Oops.” Danny clapped his hand over his mouth.
“Cute, Danny. Exactly what I’d expect from a bent lawyer.” Ryn lunged one step toward Beau.
Amber threw her arm in front of Ryn’s chest. “Stupid move for a tall drink like you.”
Tall drink? Ryn laughed trying to hold back the rage shrieking in her ears. “Haven’t heard that one for a long time, Amber.”
Beau made a noise behind the gag and rocked from side to side in his chair. Two legs tilted off the carpet.
Danny came forward with two glasses of champagne and nudged a hip into the chair, returning it to all four legs. “That vein in your left temple is about to pop, old boy. And sweating like a pig is very unattractive.”
A red mist blurred Ryn’s vision. She snarled, dizzy from the force of her rage.
“Shut up.” Amber swung the nose of the gun between Ryn and Beau.
Ryn’s knees threatened to buckle, but she faced Beau and tapped her finger against her lips. “We’ll get through this, Beau.”
Tears filled his wide blue eyes, but he nodded.
Danny offered Amber one of the glasses. She took a sip and bussed Danny’s cheek. He said, “Sit down, Ryn. You’re less likely to try a karate move on your cute ass.”
“Hey. Skinny ass,” Amber growled.
“Skinny ass,” Danny amended and nipped Amber’s earlobe.
Ryn stifled the urge to barf. How was it that greedy people lusting for power and sex always found each other?
“Sit on the floor.” Amber waved Jesus’s nose up and down twice at Ryn’s feet. “It’s even harder to make one of your famous karate moves on the floor.”
“Good thinking, babe.” Danny clinked their glasses.
Behind him, the San Francisco skyline shimmered in the fog. Beautiful. Ryn gritted her teeth and crossed her ankles despite the ice pick in her knee. Was it the last beautiful thing she and Beau would see? She crossed her ankles and sank down in a Lotus pose.
“I expected you earlier,” Danny said to Amber.
“Blame me,” Ryn said. “Holding a gun makes applying a ton of makeup—”
“Shut your fuckin’ mouth.” Amber, Gangster Moll. Tough. Hard as nails.
“Shhh. Amber. Amber. No need to shout.” Danny’s calm, quiet voice sounded like a predator’s claws skidding on the rock behind his prey.
Ryn tossed her head. “The real reason I was late? I had a long conversation with a friend of yours.”
Danny’s eyebrows went up. “What friend is that?”
Patience. Reel him in. Then whack him between the eyes.
Danny placed a hand on Beau’s crown. Ryn jumped over patience and blurted, “Carlos Luis Vega.”
Danny’s face turned gray-green and his brown eyes popped. His fingers slipped on the champagne glass, sloshing champagne on Amber’s wrist.
Amber jumped back, holding the gun in front of her with both hands out. “Watch out, goddammit.”
“Bullshit.” Danny slammed his glass on the bar and grabbed the bottle for a refill. His hand shook, and triumph slalomed down Ryn’s back.
“Give me a wet cloth,” Amber demanded.
“Please, Danny, give me a wet cloth.” His nostrils flared.
“Okay, okay.” Amber sighed. “Please. Ryn brings out the worst in me.”
Glad Amber had no idea mention of Vega had shaken Danny, Ryn passed on the perfect opening to trash the idiot.
Water whooshed into the sink. A second later, Danny turned off the faucet and brought a cloth to Amber. His hands still shook. Amber still paid no attention.
Next to Amber in her five-inch hooker-heels, Danny stood as tall as Napoleon next to Shaquille O’Neal. He puffed out his chest. “What’s this shit about Vega?”
“How about if we make a deal, Counselor?”
Amber shook her head so hard Ryn marveled the other woman’s head didn’t spin off her spine. “No deal. Spit it out about Vega.”
Worried her voice would crack, Ryn shrugged. Did Danny smell her sweat?
“Stop playing games.” Amber pointed the gun at Beau.
Danny laid a restraining hand on Amber’s arm. “What do you want?”
A polo pony. Ryn pinched her wrist. Focus. “Take the gag off Beau.”
“No way. No way. No way.” Shrieking now, Amber jerked her arm away from Danny. “That retard will start yappin’ about that damn cat, and we’ll never learn shit.”
Danny winced. He took a step toward Beau.
“Don’t you dare do what that bitch wants,” Amber screamed, turning Jesus on Danny.
His Adam’s apple convulsed, and he stood still. Crazy bitch flickered across his forehead.
Ryn repressed a smile.
“I mean it,” Amber stated. Two hands on the gun again. To support the arm that’s visibly shaking. “I’m sick and tired of everyone kowtowin’ to her.”
“Amber. I’m not kowtowing—”
“Princess Kathryn couldn’t get a license to sing in the shower. But. Stone listened to her opinions like she invented rock. Composin’ on her fuckin computers. Dedicatin’ songs to her. I kept tellin’ him he was crazy.” Amber swung the gun around on Ryn. “She understands rocks I told him—’cuz she’s old as a rock. Not the same as understanding rock music.
Amber sucked in a breath, giggled, and looked at Danny, waiting for him to howl. Ryn too.
Good thing Little Miss Amber never aspired to becoming a comedienne.
Danny The Entertainment Attorney—used to dealing with volatile, creative types, made a noise that might pass for a snicker. Amber rewarded him by running her tongue across her top lip.
“Now,” she pulled back the hammer on Jesus. “Spit it out about Vega.”
“When you take off Beau’s gag.” Ryn put all her concentration into speaking in a quiet, even, rational voice. You’re crazy.
“I’ll take your fuckin’ face off!” Amber screamed, her eyes hot, wild, crazy.
“Hold it.” Danny grabbed Amber’s elbow. “She’s sitting down, but it’s not a good idea to get too close.”
Like I’m a tiger in the zoo and might pull an unsuspecting kid through the bars.
“I’m not afraid of her. I wish she’d try—just try—somethin’ with me.”
Who writes this woman’s dialogue? Ryn mashed her thumb against her lips.
“Remember our plan.” Danny massaged the back of Amber’s neck. “Remember the plan.”
Talk to the doorknob …
“She is such a bitch,” Amber whined.
“I know. I know. But I’ve got the documents ready. Take off Fat Boy’s gag. I want to hear about Vega.” He ran his index finger down Amber’s spine, then back up and finally patted between her shoulders as if she were a favorite child.
Mouth hard, Amber glided to Beau’s chair and untied the handkerchief. Beau opened his mouth, but Danny warned, “Don’t push your luck. Keep your mouth shut, okay?”
Beau sneaked a glance at Ryn and nodded.
Amber patted his cheek with the top of the gun and met Ryn’s eyes. “And to think all this time I thought you were a total dummy.” Miss Rub Your Nose in It.
She’ll hurt Beau if you try anything.
Karate-hotshot Ryn locked her jaw, cussed in silence, and sucked in her breath.
Amber pranced back to Danny’s side, and he swiveled around to face Ryn. “No more games. What did Vega have to say? And while you’re at it, throw
in where and when.”
“Why not ask him yourself, Counselor? He’s right behind you.”
Chapter 44
Danny sighed and clicked his tongue against his top teeth. “Ryn. Ryn. Ryn. The movies beat that cliché to death forty years ago.”
Danny The Genius. Educating Ryn the Dimwit, who had lived such a sheltered life.
“I will wager she already knows that.” The Frog still sounded as if he had a bad cold, but Ryn thought it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.
Mouths open, eyes popping, Danny and Amber whipped around like conjoined puppets. Ryn marveled they didn’t genuflect at Vega’s feet.
“Take that gun,” Vega barked.
The tall, mute sidekick strode across the room and squeezed Amber’s wrist with two bony fingers.
“Let’s reset the safety.” He bent her thumb back as he nearly jerked her arm out of the socket forcing her toward the floor.
The gun hit the carpet, and Ryn’s heart stopped. But The Enforcer kicked the weapon across the living room, out of Amber’s reach.
Blink and you miss all the action. Ryn sat on her hands to keep from clapping.
Amber fought to the bitter end. She hissed and curled her talons at The Mute’s eyes. A skinny King Kong, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her off her feet, and shoved her at Danny. He took her full weight. Stumbled. Fell flat on his butt with Amber sprawling on top of him. Like kids in a playground scuffle, they called each other names as their hands flailed the air.
“Ryn!” Beau lowered his voice to a stage whisper and tossed his head at Vega. “That’s the man at Stone’s secret apartment.”
What a surprise. “Can I untie him?” she asked Vega.
Focused on the Danny-Amber chaos, Vega nodded. “You two knock it off. Now.”
What happened to his Spanish accent? Ryn gave wide berth to the melee on the floor. Blood gushed out of Danny’s nose and splattered his white shirt, bringing back a snapshot of the red hibiscus. Ryn’s stomach rolled, and her fingers went numb. Don’t freak out now.
Memory shoved open the door into her basement vault. The red hibiscus on Stone’s chest swelled and ignited her blinding hatred for Amber, who made a guttural noise. Too bad it’s not more pain.
Beau shifted his weight and his chair groaned. Head swimming, Ryn knelt and bit her lip. Stone was dead. Beau still needed her.
“Hurry, Ryn. I hafta go to the bathroom.” Beau wiggled his fingers.
Does he have any idea the mess we’re in? Of course not. He needed to go to the bathroom, and she needed to untie him before The Frog changed his mind.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the sidekick slide Jesus toward The Frog with his left foot. Why doesn’t he pick up the damn gun?
The Frog leaned over the weapon. When he straightened, his lips had all but disappeared. He faced Amber and Danny. They stood at attention like ruffians in the principal’s office.
“Explain.” The Frog’s clipped tone raised the ghost of Miss Pedersen, but the click of his heels on the hardwood shattered the memory. He stopped about three inches from Amber. Her glare should’ve melted him into a puddle. His snake-stare froze Ryn’s blood, and her fingers slipped off Beau’s knots.
“This is none of your business,” Amber stated, chin up, eyes smoking.
The Frog moved in front of Danny. “What did I say about no killing?”
“I didn’t kill anyone. It was Amber. She went off the reservation—killing Stone—”
“Bastard,” she hissed. “You slimy—”
“Pablo. Ven acá.”
“Son of a bitch.” Amber slashed out at Pablo’s face with her stiletto-nails, but Pablo did his King Kong imitation. He lifted her by the waist and deposited her, kicking and screaming, three feet away from Danny.
The Frog removed a white handkerchief from his pocket and passed it to Pablo. In a single, fluid movement, Pablo twisted Amber’s wrists behind her and tied them with the white cloth. Even then, she didn’t have the brains to shut up. She tossed her head back and forth like a caged wild animal. Shrieking. Cussing. Out of control. Border-line crazy.
“Hurry, Ryn. Hurry up.” Beau’s plea brought her back to his tied hands.
Vega spoke to Amber. “Another sound and …”
Like a great magician, he ceremoniously withdrew a second white square. He snapped it open. The white folds fluttered and fell over each other.
Earth to Amber. Earth to Amber. Ryn worked her finger through one knot.
Amber glared at the handkerchief Pablo dangled from two fingers. She swiveled her gaze to Danny. “You fuckin’ traitor.”
Pablo glided behind her and slipped the gag over her head and nose. He fitted it neatly over her mouth, pulled on both ends, and tied the cloth snugly in a single knot at the same time Ryn’s fingernail loosened the last knot on Beau’s ankle restraints. What goes around, Amber …
“Wait a second before you stand,” Ryn said, loudly and clearly. In case The Frog or Pablo got nervous when Beau suddenly stood up. In case in the moment of drama with Amber, both men had forgotten about Beau.
“I don’t know where the bathroom is,” Beau whispered.
Ryn threw Danny a look which he ignored. Lawyers knew how to focus on who had the power. He stared at The Frog.
“The time for games is over, Señor Abogado.” The Spanish intonation— slight, but apparent—added a subtext to the order. “Tell the man the location of the bathroom.”
“Thank you.” Beau stood, His legs wobbled, but he managed the few steps to the hallway without Ryn’s help. She watched The Frog through her lashes. In any other circumstances, she’d swear sympathy gleamed in his dark eyes as he followed Beau’s progression.
After Beau returned and settled into his chair, The Frog said, “I want a complete and coherent explanation of what you and Amber have done, Señor Abogado.”
When The Frog said Señor Abogado, Danny flinched—as if the drug lord had nicked him with the tip of a very sharp knife. Ryn tapped her bottom lip. Lawyers don’t get no respect.
The Frog sat down on the rose-colored sofa. “Do not waste my time by lying.”
Amber created a racket behind her gag until her face turned purple. She stamped her feet. Made more noise. Stamped her feet. Pablo whipped another handkerchief from his pocket, leaped forward, and tossed an enraged Amber over his shoulder. He dumped her in a chair next to a table and tied her ankles to the table legs.
Beau giggled, and Ryn laid a hand on his shoulder, stifling her own laugh. She had no desire to be gagged.
Danny made his case with no more prompting. “You already know Amber killed Stone.”
How long has he known? From the beginning, of course. Ryn’s heart and head pounded. He knew yet threw suspicion on her to Jericho.
The Frog gave no indication of what he knew so Danny rushed on. “We figured it’d be easier to carry drugs for the cartel if Ryn was out of the picture. The cops already liked her for Stone’s murder—thanks to our plan.”
Ryn barely felt Beau’s warm, moist hand on her arm.
“We figured if she killed herself—that’s why we brought her here. We have this letter—a confession, really.”
Amber. Danny. They’re monsters.
“A confession. How original,” The Frog drawled.
“It covers all the bases.” Danny’s voice rose in defense of the idea. He held up three fingers and flicked off his points. “Stone’s murder. The murders of two punks in Los Altos. As well as that of Doctor …” Danny swallowed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Doctor Colin Comfrey. In Palo Alto.”
Tapping his foot, The Frog stared at Ryn and Beau. “Where is this … confession?”
“In the desk.” Danny took a step. Vega held up his hand.
The men’s faces exploded and then melded into a blurry collage in Ryn’s mind. She blinked tears. She swallowed and squeezed Beau’s hand, patting, patting, patting her arm. Can I convince Vega to let Beau live?
&nbs
p; Pablo crossed the room in three long strides, picked up two papers from the desk, and delivered them to The Frog. As he read, the smooth, café-au-lait skin on his high cheeks shrank—projecting the appearance of a skull.
The front and back of Danny’s blood-stained shirt lay plastered against his body. His hair was soaked, his face streaming sweat Ryn could smell across the room.
Danny licked his lips. “We also altered the tape Ryn made under hypnosis. If you listen, you’ll think she had motive to kill her therapist. We edited the interview to sound as if she also killed Stone.
Vega’s eyebrows rose. “You and la señorita Watt are most clever. You have, of course, destroyed the original tape?”
Nausea clawed at Ryn’s throat. Until Vega and his sidekick showed up, she’d actually thought she and Beau would get out of this alive. How they overcame Amber and Danny wasn’t clear, but she was confidant she’d have found a way. Beau, placid as a soft-boiled egg, was humming as if they all waited for tea.
“Not yet,” Danny said. “It’s there in the desk, too.” No movement this time.
A teachable lawyer …
Blood—dark, unhealthy—suffused Vega’s face from his forehead to his Adam’s apple. His lips stretched so tight Ryn marveled they didn’t pop off. But it was his eyes—shooting fire—that brought even Beau out of his trance. Vega had told Amber and Danny no more killing. He’d allowed Beau and Ryn to hear their confession. What choice did Vega have now but to kill them all?
“What is this second document?” Vega waved several pages in the air.
“Ryn’s release of royalties to Amber. As well as ownership of The Stoned Gang to Amber.” Stated in a logical, lawyerly tone.
Maybe residual crap from Amber’s little white pill exploded in Ryn’s brain. Or maybe it was the rage. As if from underwater, Ryn watched herself catapult off the arm of Beau’s chair and charge toward Danny. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Pablo coming. She sidestepped his lunge, leaned to her left, and kicked Danny in the left hip.
Yelping, he nosedived onto the floor, his skull cracking on a coffee table.
She raised her foot again, but Pablo encircled her waist, lifted her off the floor, and carried her to Beau’s chair and dumped her on his lap.