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“It’s my mother’s maiden name. Dad changed our surname. He said it was more fitting.”
And not the same as his psycho brother’s.
Pearl looks at me, frowning. “Anya knew I was sleeping with you,” she says, panic rising. “If she’s reported that information back to my uncle, he’ll know I’m not?—”
“It doesn’t matter.” I hold a hand up.
“He saw me at the hotel. With you.” She frowns. “I don’t know if he knows I was with you. Maybe he?—”
“It doesn’t matter.” King asked for Pearl intact. That tells me he can’t know about me. It also tells me that Anya wasn’t working for King, or he’d have that piece of crucial information. Danny’s figured that much out too. She was working for Sandy. But does he know, and, if so, why hasn’t he told King? I go to Pearl, dipping, getting close. “I have to go talk to the men.”
She shakes her head mildly as I nod mine. King has inflicted unthinkable atrocities on her over the years. So bad, she’s still terrified, even now when she’s safe here with me. And unlucky for King, that just enhances my unbridled hatred and anger.
I press my mouth to hers. “Don’t be scared. That’s an order.”
“He has Nolan.”
“He has a target on his head, Pearl. That’s what he has.” I plan on hitting that target.
First time.
Point-blank.
59
DANNY
* * *
“I liked that rug,” I mutter as Goldie rolls it up. “Definitely not salvageable?”
She pauses rolling, points a filthy look my way.
“Okay.” I surrender, hands up, before lighting up. “The rug goes.”
“I have a spare,” she mutters.
“You do?” I ask, surprised. I don’t know why. I’ve made a lot of messes in this office. I wander over to the Picasso hanging over the fireplace, taking a moment to admire it. It’s been too long since I have. I still don’t know if the damn thing is real. “Is it, Pops?”
“I think it is.”
I look over my shoulder. James is in the doorway. “I don’t know.” I motion to it with my smoke, pointing at the signature. “It looks . . . off.” I tilt my head, pouting. “Pops took it as payment from a bad debtor.” He killed him anyway. No second chances.
“He would have had it authenticated, surely.”
I hum, going to my desk. We have more important things to worry about, and I’m itching to get on and deal with them. “Brad emerged yet?”
“No. Give it time.” James goes to the cabinet and pours us both a drink, one for Brad too. So he’s expecting him soon. Good. James lowers into the chair opposite me and slides my drink across the leather top. “Are you wondering what I’m wondering?”
I laugh, taking a swig of Scotch. “My head’s a bit busy right now. What are you wondering?”
“I’m still wondering who took out the two Russians and Mexicans and carved your family emblem into their chests. Because the two prime suspects, King and Anya Dimitri, are, or have been, working with Sandy.”
“And Sandy wouldn’t order the deaths of two of his own,” I muse.
“And Sandy and Luis are quite friendly.”
I hum, turning my glass, thinking. “Do you know what I’m wondering?”
