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37
The door opened and Nero walked into the basement, his weapon held loosely at his side. Behind him came Domino carrying a tray.
Nero raised his Sig, pointed it at Sherlock as Domino walked past him. She set the tray on the floor three feet in front of them, backed away.
“I see you’re awake, ladies. Glad you’re both alive. Getting the narcotics dosage right is tricky and sometimes people die.” He pointed to the tray Domino had left them. There were two plastic bottles of water, still sealed, two wrapped sandwiches, and two unopened bags of potato chips. “You’ll be here a while, so you might as well eat. You want to keep body and soul together, don’t you?”
“Where are we?”
He cocked an eyebrow at Sherlock, pulled a chair from the pile of discarded furniture in the corner, tested it, and sat down. “As you can see, you’re in a lovely long-ago man cave.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and crossed his arms, like a man in control of his world and he knew it, basking in the knowledge. He held his Sig in his right hand, resting on his thigh. In the limousine, he’d been dressed to the nines in a black suit, white shirt, and dark tie. He’d shed the suit coat and tie now, his white shirt rolled to his elbows. His forearms were hairless, smooth and pale as his face. In the dim light he looked so winter-white he could have played a murderous zombie in a Halloween horror film. He said, “Domino, stay by the door and keep your Glock on our two ladies, particularly Agent Sherlock.” He paused, his cold eyes roaming over her, making her skin crawl. He added, a half smile on his thin lips, “I’ve read about your exploits, Agent Sherlock—stopping that bombing at JFK, bringing down that Algerian terrorist at the Lincoln Monument. It was quite a performance. You gave the foreign tourists a big show, a story to tell back home about lawless America. But alas, Agent Sherlock, there will be no more daring deeds for you. I have you now and trust me, I never suffer defeat.” He raised his Sig, aimed it at her face, held it steady. “Never.”
Sherlock didn’t look away from his cold emotionless face as he spoke. Her face showed only indifference, a hint of boredom. No way would she let him see her shock of fear, not only at his words and the gun, but at his face as he spoke. There was no doubt in her mind he planned to kill them both. Dillon’s and Sean’s faces flashed through her mind. She looked at Nero again and shook her head, no expression on her face. “Big words are easy to say when you have the weapon,” she said and turned away from him. Could he smell her fear?
Nero laughed, a hollow sound, and slowly lowered his Sig. “And brave words from you, but I made your heart race, didn’t I, Agent Sherlock? No answer?” He said to Molly, “Believe me, Mrs. Hunt, you want to do what you’re told or she’s dead.” He smiled. “You see, I also came to convince you not to try to escape.” He pointed his Sig toward the boarded windows. “If you did manage to squeeze through one of those windows, which you couldn’t, given Mrs. Hunt’s very nice curves, I have men outside patrolling the grounds. My orders to them are to shoot you both. Much better for us if you’re both dead than if you escape. My advice to you is not to try.”
Molly said, “What do you want with us?”
“What I want doesn’t concern you, Mrs. Hunt, until I choose to tell you. Just know that if you choose not to cooperate, I will shoot Agent Sherlock in the head in front of you, like poor stupid Pope.”
Sherlock waved at the food and gave him a sneer. “Do you think we’d eat the sandwiches?”
Nero shrugged. “They’re quite good actually. Tuna salad. They’re not drugged, but then again, why should you believe me?” He turned to Domino. “Did you slip some ketamine into them while I wasn’t looking, my dear?”
Domino only shook her head, didn’t move or speak. Sherlock didn’t blame her.
Molly said, “So you haven’t made a ransom demand yet from my husband and father? How many millions are you planning to ask for our release?”
The half smile was still in place when he said to Molly, “Let me say you can consider it a ransom of sorts. I suggest you not worry about it, Mrs. Hunt, you’ll do what I tell you if you hope to be released.”
Molly ripped open a bag of potato chips, took a chip, and crunched down. Her chewing was loud in the basement. When she’d swallowed, she said, “Now there’s a lie that won’t travel far.”
Nero gave a full-bodied laugh, showing big square teeth and a gold incisor. “Ah, no terrified little housewife, are you? You’re the famous judge’s wife who saved her daughter. I doubt your bravado will last now I’ve got you.” He studied Molly as he had Sherlock. “I saw your young prodigy in the flesh last night performing at Kennedy Center, and you as well, Agent Sherlock. She’s a lovely girl, an amazing talent. And no, no one paid me any mind. I had lovely orchestra seats.” He paused, looked thoughtful. “Wait, it was your first husband, Louey Santera, who gave her that talent, wasn’t it? Not you. When it comes down to it, like most women, all you were good for was birthing her.”
Sherlock gave him a full-blown sneer. “You think you know so much about us, but you don’t.” She laughed. “If you didn’t have that gun, she’d eat you for breakfast.”
She’d startled him, but only for a moment. He gave her his cold smile that promised payback.
Sherlock pulled one of Molly’s potato chips out of her bag, chewed on it. “So you’ve been instructed to wait, Nero, is that right? Until when? Until Mason Lord and Ramsey Hunt and Agent Savich visit Rule Shaker in Las Vegas? Will it be Shaker who tells you what to do then?”
He stared at her and then said in a dead-calm voice, “We all have our parts to play in this little chessboard drama. You’ll be silent and accept your situation. It’s important all the pieces are played in the proper order.”
Molly said, “In other words, it’s too soon for a ransom demand. Why is that? What has to happen in your proper order?”
“Shut up, you stupid woman.”
Molly ate another potato chip, chewed slowly. “Trying to take Emma—a spectacular failure—and then you managed to grab Agent Sherlock. It’s obvious your boss needs us for leverage of some kind. All your talk about the chess pieces played in the proper order. I’ll bet you have no idea what’s involved, do you, Nero? You’re only a worker bee, after all.”
He sat back in the chair, let his gun dangle from his fingers. He studied her for a moment. “And I suppose you know?”
Molly laughed. “Yes, I do now. I should have figured it out much sooner.” She didn’t say another word, only smiled at him, ate another potato chip as he waited.
“Do tell me what you think, Mrs. Hunt.”
“I’ll just say it all started six years ago.”
Nero blinked his nearly colorless eyes. “And what about six years ago? Your daughter was taken and your husband managed to recover her. So?”
Molly shook her head, said nothing. Sherlock laid her hand over Molly’s, gave it a squeeze.
