Standing in the Shadows (McClouds & Friends #2)(114)

"This is a special case," he told her.

Her fearsome dentures gleamed. "Oh, they all think they're special."

The vindictive satisfaction in the lady's voice made him grit his teeth. "Thank you for the information, ma'am."

Her rheumy eyes blinked suspiciously. "Hmph. Pretty manners."

"I try," he said. "Sometimes. Have a nice day."

The old lady retracted her head like a turtle and slammed her door.

One last door to bang on. He groped for the phone and dialed Nick's number as he loped toward the car.

"Where are you?" Nick demanded.

"What the f*ck did you say to Erin, Nick?"

"I told her the truth. It's time somebody did. You know about Billy Vega, right?" Nick waited. "Yeah," he said softly. "Of course you do."

Connor knew where this was going. "Nick—"

"I couldn't help but notice that the guy looked a whole lot like Georg Luksch looked after you were done working him over with your cane," Nick said. "Only difference was, Billy was dead. You're slipping."

Black spots danced in front of Connor's eyes. He leaned against his car. "You can't believe that. Come on, Nick. You know me."

"I thought I did," Nick said. "Novak is dead, Con. Blown up. Burned to a crisp. It's all over. All. Over. Am I getting through to you?"

Connor's head spun. The phone call. Georg, on the freeway. Billy Vega. "But that's not possible. I talked to him. And I saw Georg—"

"Don't bother," Nick said. "Georg's in France. Like I told you before. Novak's death is confirmed. Not that this changes anything for you, of course. You need a focus for your anger, and if you can't find one, you'll create one. Sure, Billy Vega was no big loss to the world, but I—"

"Don't be stupid, Nick," Connor said grimly.

"I deduced from my conversation with Erin that you don't have a real alibi for the hours of five a.m. to six A.M. this morning. I also deduced that she will lie to protect you. Is that what you want?"

"Fuck you, Nick," Connor said. "This is bullshit."

"We'll see. Get yourself a good lawyer. Because I'm all out of patience. I want this thing to end."

"You and me both." He hung up. His leg and head were both pounding now, a nauseous throbbing pain. He wrenched the door of the Cadillac open. He had to sit down. Quick, before he fell down.

Nick had been one of his best friends, once.

He dropped the phone into his pocket. If it weren't for Erin, he would throw the thing into the Dumpster right now.

Erin. Panic dug in its claws at the thought of her. His fight with Georg at Crystal Mountain began to play in his mind. The cane, rising and falling. Blood streaming from Georg's shattered nose, his broken teeth. The cane, smashing down onto the windshield of the Jag. Fault lines, running in every direction.

The cane. Something about the cane was tugging him. He checked the backseat, and then recalled prying the thing out of Barbara's fingers and throwing it into the trunk. He fished his keys out of his jacket pocket and walked around the car.

The back of his neck was prickling so much he already knew what he would find, even before the trunk light flooded into the dark interior.

The trunk was empty. The cane was gone.



* * *





Chapter Twenty-One





"Try a bite of my mousse, Erin. It's even better than the crème br?lée," Lydia urged.

Erin dabbed her mouth with a napkin and forced herself to smile. "Thanks, but no. I'm full."

"Of what?" Rachel complained. "You barely picked at your salad. You don't have to diet with that cute, curvy figure of yours, Erin. You've trimmed down some since you were at the Huppert. Good for you."

Erin coughed, and hid her mouth behind her napkin.

"Come on, Erin. You're as tight as a clam about how you landed Mueller. 'Fess up, now. We've been courting him for years, and all of a sudden we find him eating out of your hand!" Rachel gushed.

"I'm so excited. This donation puts us ahead by fifteen years," Lydia said. "You are just the one to spearhead our efforts, Erin. We need your innovative spirit to carry the Huppert into the new millennium!"

Erin didn't have the energy to hide her disgust, but it didn't matter, since none of them appeared to notice it.

"With a budget like this, Erin, you can name your own salary," Fred boomed. "You're the belle of the ball! How does it feel?"

She got to her feet. "I'm afraid I have to go."

"Oh, really?" Lydia exchanged meaningful glances with the other three. "A hot date? Is that why you're saving your appetite?"

"Not at all. Just business," Erin said. "I'm meeting with Mr. Mueller to discuss some of his new acquisitions."

Lydia and Rachel waggled their eyebrows at each other. "I imagine you're having dinner with him this evening, too?" Rachel cooed.

Erin shrugged wearily. She could care less whether or with whom she ate dinner tonight. As queasy as she felt right now, it would be all she could do to get through the day without throwing up on anyone.