Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

made. “You didn’t sell six pieces of gold today?”
    “I just told you. Socks did. Or maybe even Tim. I don’t know. His mother isn’t answering her phone, so I don’t know what happened to him. But don’t worry. I kept the best gold for my very own baby-chick.”
    “Considering what happens to everyone who touches that gold, I’m not sure you’re doing me any favors.”
    “Don’t you want it?” Cherelle asked.
    The raw edge to her voice said a lot more than her quick question. Risa heard worry and something darker, a kind of general desperation that was racing on a short track toward a train wreck. Part of Risa wanted to help. The rest of her wanted to scream at her childhood friend for coming back into her life and carelessly ripping it apart.
    “I haven’t seen the gold,” Risa said. “How can I tell if I want it?”
    “It’s better than anything you have now. Guaran-damn-teed. Your mama-chick wouldn’t lead you wrong, now, would she?”
    The wheedling voice reminded Risa of the times Cherelle had coaxed and nudged and dragged her into boosting candy bars from the convenience store. As a child she had bought in to the idea that good friends always helped each other, no matter what. As an adult, the no matter what part began to grate.
    She didn’t want to be part of Cherelle’s wreckage.
    “How much for the gold?” Risa asked.
    Cherelle had spent a lot of time thinking about it. Dreaming about it. Hooking Silverado had been almost as good a high as cocaine. Though nobody else knew it, there was going to be a nice little auction going down. And Cherelle was going to walk away $3 million richer.
    “Two million,” Cherelle said. “Cash. Unmarked, used bills. Not too small, not too big. Fifties and hundreds are good. A few twenties are okay. After that, keep the change.”
    Risa looked at Dana. “Two million in unmarked twenties, fifties, and hundreds? That’s a lot of cash.”
    Dana nodded.
    “You’re getting it cheap, baby-chick. From what you told me yourself, it’s worth twice that, easy. Like I said, this is your mama-chick. I wouldn’t do you wrong.”
    If the gold was better than what Shane had purchased from Smith-White, $2 million was indeed a good price.
    If.
    “One million,” Risa said coolly.
    “One!” Cherelle’s voice was shrill, jagged. “What the hell are you talking about? It’s worth—”
    “It’s worth whatever someone will pay for it,” Risa cut in. “I’ll pay one million cash, in unmarked bills.”
    “Gail Silverado will go two,” Cherelle said instantly. “Guess we’ll just have to see who brings the most cash and—”
    “Gail Silverado?” Risa said over Cherelle. “What does she have to do with this?”
    Dana looked grim.
    So did Niall.
    “She’s in it for the same thing your boss is,” Cherelle said. “She has money, and she wants the gold.”
    Bitterly Risa wondered if Cherelle called Silverado her baby-chick. “Who else?”
    “Just you two.”
    “Just the two of us, huh?” Risa repeated for the benefit of the people who couldn’t hear Cherelle.
    Dana nodded again, accepting the fact that there was competition, but it wasn’t a free-for-all. Yet. She wanted to avoid that almost as much as she wanted to avoid another sting.
    “Okay,” Risa said. “But I have to see the gold before I bring any money.”
    Niall grinned and blew her a kiss.
    “Silverado didn’t put any conditions on it,” Cherelle said.
    “She probably plans to screw you out of the cash no matter what the gold is like. I don’t.”
    Leaning against the wall, Cherelle laughed, hiccuped, and laughed again. Risa was so easy, it almost wasn’t any fun scamming her. Silverado would have told her to go piss up a $2 million rope, but Risa wouldn’t. She would just believe whatever she was told and show up with buckets of money.
    Laughter clawed out of Cherelle’s throat, along with so many tears that she choked.
    “That’s my baby-chick,” Cherelle said when she could talk again. “So honest you squeak. You shoulda been a fuckin’ nun, but I guess even God was too much man for you.”
    Risa’s face tightened. Cherelle sounded drunk or high or both. Certainly her emotions were all over the compass—desperation, anger, wheedling, and now contempt for what her friend was and had been. Risa wanted to point out that the squeaky honest one was living better than the cheesy scammer, but didn’t. The Cherelle she was talking to had little of the childhood friend