Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

as she slid down below the dashboard. “If it’s a setup, forget the gold and get out .”

Chapter 69
    Las Vegas
    November 5
    Night
    S hane didn’t bother to ask how it was going. The steady, whispering stream of curses told him that Niall was making progress, but not nearly as much as he wanted. One of the interconnecting doors was open. The other wasn’t.
    Stone green eyes glanced from the hinges on the offending door to the tire iron at Niall’s feet and then back out the slit in the curtains to the parking lot. If they had to, they could wrench the door off its hinges in a few seconds flat. But that would make a lot of noise. Better to unlock the damned thing and take Cherelle by surprise.
    The car that had just come in reversed, backed into a nearby slot, and shut off the lights.
    “They’re here,” Shane said.
    Niall grunted.
    “What’s the deal?” Shane asked.
    “Risa goes in, looks, and if she doesn’t like it— bugger all lazy maintenance men, this sodding lock needs oil! —she leaves to get the money from the car and doesn’t fucking come back.”
    Shane’s only answer was the blue-steel gun that appeared in his fist. He put his hand on the front door, ready to yank it open. “Tell me when.”

Chapter 70
    Las Vegas
    November 5
    Night
    C herelle jumped every time lights flashed in the parking lot. Since the motel apparently was letting out rooms by the half hour, there were more vehicles coming and going than there were cars staying in place for an all-night rental.
    “Come on, come on ! It’s been twenty minutes, for Chrissake. Where you at, Silverado? Where’s all that sweet cash?”
    Cherelle wanted the money so bad she could taste it. As she paced past the dresser, she reached for another warm beer—warm because the room didn’t have anything as fancy as a small refrigerator. Against her clammy fingers the can felt almost hot, almost fragile, like life.
    The thought made her pause. She decided she should wait before she had any more beer. She was drinking too fast, even though she couldn’t feel a damn thing.
    After chewing on her raw mouth, she put the can down without opening it.
    On the next circuit of the room she picked up the can and ripped open the tab so fast that foam shot over her knuckles. As she licked it off her hand, the beer tasted like sweat and piss, but alcohol would help dull the raw edge of her nerves.
    Lights swept over the closed curtains. Breath held, she waited. From next door the sound of some kind of sports show poured out in a wave of cheers and boos that peaked quickly and faded. The neighbor on the other side of her room was trying to hammer some working girl through the headboard, urged on by throaty groans scripted with an eye toward a big tip.
    The car turned toward the opposite side of the lot.
    A fresh round of cheers drowned out the fake passion. The whumpa-whumpa-whumpa of headboard slamming into wall continued. For an instant Cherelle pitied the poor whore who had taken on a jackhammer for a client. Of all the johns, they were the worst. Give her a sixty-second man anytime.
    At first Cherelle thought the knocking sound she was hearing was a continuation of the sex next door. Then she realized it was her own front door.
    “Who is it?”
    “Risa.”
    “Wait.”
    Cherelle went to the door, peered out the cloudy peephole, and saw nothing useful. Leaving the chain on, she opened the door just enough to see that Risa was standing there alone. Quickly Cherelle shut the door, released the chain, and opened the door again. As soon as Risa was inside, she put the chain back on.
    A fast look told Risa the room was empty of all but Cherelle and the gold artifacts laid out carelessly across one bed. She walked close enough to focus on first one and then the other, taking pictures as fast as she could. The lighting was awful. Even if it hadn’t been, Dana had made it clear that she was supposed to find a way to check out the bathroom.
    “I need better light,” Risa said.
    “Shit. Try the toilet. Light over the can’s pretty good.”
    Risa scooped up gold at random, walked past the bed, and into a short, offset passageway that boasted a few hangers on one side and a sink on the other. The bathroom was just beyond. A brief look around didn’t show anything unexpected. Toilet. Tub/shower.
    She dropped the toilet lid with her elbow, spread out the pieces of gold . . .
    And forgot to breathe. Dagger and sheath gleaming with ancient ritual. A torc