Nightrise

but were sucked into the casinos the moment they stepped out of their cars or planes, only to emerge, bleary-eyed and broke, on Sunday night.
    There was nothing else to do in Reno. Even the Truckee River, which cut through the center, was as gray and as uninteresting as it was possible for a river to be, trapped between two cement walls, the water flowing rapidly as if it was trying to get out of the city as quickly as it could.
    Often when Jamie was walking to the theatre, he would look at the mountain range on the far horizon, thirty or forty miles away. Even when the summer sun was burning, the mountains were still tipped with snow. Sometimes he imagined that they were whispering promises of some other life to come. If he could just get across the mountains, over to the other side…But he knew it would never happen. He was stuck here. Drive ten minutes in any direction and you came to desert, scrubland, and sand-covered hills.
    Scott had got it exactly right, just a few days after they had come here.
    "We're in the middle of nowhere, Jamie. And that's exactly where we're going."
    There were fewer people at the Reno Playhouse than there had been at the earlier performance that night…no more than forty. So far it hadn't been a good show. Bobby Bruce had forgotten his lines.
    Zorro had gotten stuck in a pair of handcuffs. And even Jagger had been late appearing in the cage.
    Jamie could feel the bad temper of the crowd. They hadn't even smiled at his opening joke.
    He continued on autopilot, allowing the spotlights to dazzle him, not even looking at the audience. This time, the volunteer picked the
    Houston Chronicle out of the newspaper pile and the word that got circled was "and." That was always a bad sign. Small, ordinary words always made the trick seem less impressive. As Jamie returned to the stage, he remembered the word "funeral" that had come up earlier in the evening. It might not have been the most pleasant of words but at least it had had an effect on the audience.
    Briefly, he swept his eyes around, looking for someone to come up and help him blindfold his brother for the next part of the act. And that was when he saw them. The bald man who had lent him his business card was sitting five rows back from the stage. The dark-haired man was next to him. Jamie had been talking but now he shuddered in mid-sentence and came to a halt. He felt Scott stop and look at him. Jamie knew what his brother was doing, even without turning around. Why had the two men come back? Sometimes, people did return for a second performance. More often than not, they were magicians themselves, men-talists and mind readers who were trying to work out how the two brothers' tricks were done. But these men in their identical dark brown suits clearly weren't entertainers. Nor had they come here to be entertained. The way they were watching him…they could have been two scientists in front of a specimen tray. Jamie remembered his unease the first time he saw them. He felt it again, only doubly so, now that they were here again.
    "I…um…need someone to help me on the stage." The words were forcing themselves from his lips.
    "Will you help me, please, sir?" Jamie had stopped in front of a man in his twenties. He was sitting with his arm around a girl. He had an Elvis Presley haircut.
    "Forget it!" The man shook his head and sneered. He didn't want to leave his seat.
    That happened often enough. There were plenty of people who preferred not to volunteer…because they were embarrassed or because the whole thing was beneath them. Normally, Jamie would handle the situation easily and move on. But tonight he didn't feel in control. He was afraid that one of the two men was going to volunteer, and whatever happened he didn't want them to come close. What now? He struggled to find the right words.
    "I'll help you!"
    A woman had stood up, a few seats away. She was black, slim, and attractive — in her thirties, Jamie would have said. Once again, he couldn't help feeling that something didn't quite add up. The woman was well dressed in jeans with a white silk shirt and a thin gold necklace. He could imagine that she was probably an executive in some sort of business. But what was she doing here — and on her own?
    Still, she had given Jamie no choice. He waited for her to follow him up onto the stage, and a few seconds later they were standing in the spotlights. Scott was slightly to the side, not looking at them, waiting for Jamie to