Silken Prey

Kidd and said, “In.” He made no reply, but he was there, live, and if something broke, he’d start screaming.
    She took a moment to remove the tarp from the window, then moved quickly through the bedroom, groped for the button that would open the bookcase panel, found it, opened it, put the phone to her ear. Was the bookcase button booby-trapped? Kidd said nothing, issued no warning. The safe was there, in the dark: she felt for the keypad, found it, tried a combination, turned the lock handle. It didn’t budge. No panic: she had a sequence to run through, one of four possibilities. She hit it on the second one.
    There must have been twenty small jewelry cases in the safe. She threw them in the pack, felt deeper into the safe, picked up something heavy and cylindrical . . . a roll of coins. Heavy: gold. She felt around, found a dozen more rolls. And cash: stacks of currency. Christ, this was good. She threw everything into her bag, and then closed the safe, and pushed the bookcase button . . .
    And Kidd started screaming: “Hide hide hide . . .”
    She punched off the phone and at the same moment, she heard them: somebody coming down the hall, arguing, coming fast. No time, not time even to get to the bathroom . . .
    The bookcase was sliding back in place as she bounced once across the bed to the far side, pulling the pack along, hit the floor, then slipped under the bedskirt and pulled the pack with her, under the bed. At the same moment, the bedroom door opened, and a streak of light cut across the carpet.
    •   •   •
    D ANNON FINALLY GOT T ARYN out of the crowd. She was about two-thirds drunk, he thought, as he hustled her along by her arm, all the way to the bedroom, a few curious partiers looking after them. They pushed through the door, but didn’t bother with the light: they needed privacy, not illumination.
    “What is it?” Taryn snarled. “This is my night, you can’t—”
    “Shut up and listen, goddamnit, this is more important than any of that political bullshit,” Dannon said, shaking her. “Carver got hit by that goddamn Davenport. Davenport found out what Carver did in Afghanistan, and supposedly is going to get the governor to say something about it, on a talk show or something—that Carver massacred some people.”
    “Did he?”
    “Well, that depends on how you look at it,” Dannon said.
    “So he
did
,” Taryn said.
    “
Listen
. Davenport is trying to get Carver to turn on us. Offering him immunity. Carver’s freaking out. He wants you to give him a million dollars in diamonds and cash, tonight. He’s going to run for it. He thinks he can hide out in Panama.”
    “That sounds crazy,” Taryn said.
    “It’s not entirely crazy, except that he won’t stop with a million. He’ll spend it in six months. He’ll buy a goddamn fishing trawler or something, something that won’t work out, and he’ll keep coming back. Or he’ll get in trouble and he’ll tell everybody that a U.S. senator is a pal of his, and he’ll be coming to you for a little influence peddling . . . and more money. It’s the same deal as with Tubbs.”
    “Is there any chance that Davenport would give him immunity?” Taryn asked.
    “Oh, hell, yes. If he could bag you and me? Hell, yes.”
    “So . . .”
    “I’m gonna take Ron out tonight. I’ll work out some kind of excuse to get him down to his vehicle, and I’ll hit him—”
    “The car will be full of blood—”
    “No-no. I can do this. There won’t be a speck of blood. We’ve already got the perfect graveyard. I’ll get my pal to carry his passport across the border into Iraq . . . and we’re good. Good forever.”
    •   •   •
    A PHONE RANG; for a freaking split second, Lauren thought it was hers and she slid her hand down her leg to the side pocket, but then heard Taryn say, “Wait . . .” and then, as the phone continued to ring, Taryn said, “Damn it, where is it? Okay.”
    She’d been rummaging through her purse, Lauren thought. Then Taryn answered the phone and said, “We’re in the back . . . probably pretty soon. Yeah, I’ve stopped, don’t worry about it. Okay, we’re coming out.”
    Lauren heard what sounded like a woman dropping a purse on a tabletop, and the door swung open.
    Taryn’s voice: “Do it. Do it.”
    Then they were gone, still talking, their voices diminishing as they went down the hall. Lauren started breathing again, slipped out from under the bed. The