Iron Cast(53)

“Did they see us?” Ada whispered, and Corinne knew she had recognized them too. Her hand was shaking as she peeled Corinne’s hand from her glass to take a sip.

Corinne stole another glance over her shoulder. The massive agent was slapping Carson on the shoulder and pushing the white envelope toward him. It gapped open, and Corinne caught sight of the green inside. Carson’s expression was grim, but he slid the envelope into his jacket.

Corinne turned back to the bar. “I don’t think so,” she whispered.

They both watched in the mirror as the two agents walked past, toward the door. Then Corinne downed the rest of her drink in a single gulp, told the bartender to put it on Charlie’s tab, and went straight for Carson’s table. Ada stayed at the bar long enough to pay for the drinks, then caught up with her. Ada slid in beside Eva in the semicircular booth, and Corinne plopped down beside Luke. She exchanged a glance with Ada—barely the length of a heartbeat—but it was enough to say everything that needed to be said. This was a game that the Carsons had no chance of winning.

“Hello there,” Corinne said. “I imagine you probably remember us.”

“Corinne Wells and Ada Navarra,” Luke said. “Hard to forget a couple of broads like you.”

“Usually I’m all for flattery, but let’s keep it short and sweet tonight.”

“You know why we’re here,” Ada said.

“I can guess,” Carson said, disentangling his hand from his wife’s hair in order to give a dismissive wave at the two brawny gentlemen who were sidling toward them. Corinne had to admit that Gabriel was at least better at pretending to be unarmed than they were.

“What I can’t guess,” Carson continued, “is how you managed to get in here. Care to tell me so I know who to fire?”

“Your mother,” Corinne said with a smile. “Lovely woman. Not all there, but then she did have to deal with you for the better part of her life.”

Carson’s lips twitched, and Corinne could see his grip on his glass tightening. His wife laughed suddenly, a lilting sound like morning birds.

“Quite a mouth on such a little thing,” said Eva, putting her hand on her husband’s arm and rubbing it slowly. Her gaze moved between them in lazy amusement. “What a funny pair you make.”

“We do tricks too,” said Ada.

“Sure do,” Corinne said. “Have you ever wondered what it would look like if your skin were turned inside out? Because I’ve got a poem for that.”

Luke Carson made a small, jerking movement, as if he were ready to throw something.

Eva laughed again. “Cute,” she said, and leaned to speak into her husband’s ear, though she wasn’t exactly whispering. “I like them. Let’s hear what they have to say.”

Carson’s face twisted through a few expressions before finally settling into one of calm composure.

“Let’s hear it then,” he said to Corinne.

But it was Ada who spoke, while Corinne focused on Carson’s face through the smoke and candlelight.

“Do you know where Johnny is?”

“Not the slightest idea,” Carson said. He leaned back and swirled the amber liquid in his glass. “People are so hard to keep up with these days.”

Corinne didn’t take her eyes off him. She was watching his eyebrows. A lie was always in the eyebrows.

“Was it your people at the wharf the other night?” Ada asked.

Carson’s eyebrows moved upward, only slightly. He was quiet for a few seconds, considering her.

Around them, the club echoed with movement and conversation. Someone onstage was striking the first few notes on a piano. Eva Carson’s hand was still on her husband’s arm, her fingertips moving in slow, soothing circles.

“No,” Luke Carson said.

“Can you swear on your mother’s eyes?” Corinne asked, jumping into the conversation to throw him off balance. “And while you’re at it, can you swear that you didn’t just accept a bribe from Agent Mammoth and Agent Slick who were just here?”

“Kid, you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Carson said, his voice heating despite his wife’s consoling touch.

“She rarely does,” Ada said, propping her chin on her hands. “I’m sure the Hemopath Protection Agency is just collecting for charity.”

“Maybe it’s time for you both to go. The show’s about to start.”

“You two should play another set for us sometime,” Eva said, tapping her manicured red nails against her Manhattan.

“Certainly,” Corinne said, forcing a smile that more closely resembled bared fangs. “I’ll save that poem for you.”

“We’ll see ourselves out,” Ada said, standing.

“I think you won’t,” Carson said, waving again to his armed lurkers.

In an effort to remain dignified and avoid unnecessary bruising, the girls let the bodyguards lead them out the front door by the elbows. Once they were deposited outside, they started walking with purpose in the direction of the Cast Iron. When she heard the door shut, Corinne nudged Ada’s arm and they doubled back toward the stage door. Gabriel was waiting for them.

“Well, Carson denied everything, predictably enough,” Corinne told him.