The Millionaires - Brad Meltzer [168]
Again, no one answered. And then she realized why.
Straight ahead, at the end of the first aisle of costume racks, DeSanctis was facedown on the floor, his arms tied behind his back with what looked like a jump rope. Gillian couldn’t believe it. His nose was covered in blood; his left eye was swollen shut. He wasn’t moving. She nudged his shoulder with her foot, but it was like kicking a brick. Surprised, she squatted down for a better look. Was he—? No, she realized as she saw his chest rise and fall. Just unconscious.
There was another noise, this one from a few aisles over. Jarred by the sound, Gillian shot straight to her feet. But as she heard it again, she cracked a small grin. This sound was different than the first. Deeper. More guttural. Like someone breathing… or panting. Someone out of breath.
She glanced around and made her way across the back of the aisle. “Charlie!” she called out. “It’s me—it’s Gillian!”
The breathing stopped.
“Charlie—are you there!?”
Still no response.
She crossed over to the next aisle of costumes, then the next. Except for the colorful sequined outfits and a set of Chip ’n Dale costume heads, both aisles were empty.
“Charlie, I know you heard the gunshots—Oliver’s been hit!”
Again, nothing.
“He’s been shot, Charlie! He hit Gallo, and Gallo shot him in the thigh—if we don’t get him to a doctor—!”
“Gillian, this better not be bullshit,”a voice warned behind her.
She wheeled around as Charlie stepped out from the aisle she just passed. He held the broom in his right hand, and while he tried to put on a strong face, he was clearly wheezing with each breath. Between the running and the fighting, it was all too much. “Are you okay?” she asked.
He studied her carefully. Her hands were empty. Nothing out of place. “Just show me where Ollie is,” Charlie demanded. Turning his back to Gillian, he headed for the door—but before he could take a single step—there was a muffled click behind him.
Charlie froze mid-step.
“Sorry,” Gillian said as she aimed her gun behind him. “That’s what you get for trusting strangers.”
Refusing to face her, Charlie closed his eyes. He wasn’t going down without a fight. His fingers tightened around the broom—and Gillian’s tightened around the trigger. Charlie spun around as fast as he could. He wasn’t nearly fast enough.
85
Joey’s got her finger on the trigger, and her eyes on me and Shep, but she’s clearly focused on whatever’s coming out of her earpiece. My arms are up above my head, but I can still see my watch. It’s already past seven. Lapidus is in his car, on his way to Connecticut. There’s no way she’ll be able to—
“Hello, Mr. Lapidus?” she says into the microphone. “This is Joey calling… right, the private investi— No, we haven’t found the money yet… No, I understand, sir, but I have a quick question I was hoping you could help me with. Do you know anyone named…” She looks down at Shep’s ID. “… Kenneth Kerr?”
There’s a long pause as Joey listens. The longer it goes, the more she watches Shep. He doesn’t flinch. He thinks she’s bluffing. So as long as he stays calm, she can’t prove him wrong.
“No… I understand,” Joey says. “Of course, sir. No, I just wanted to be sure.”
She unhooks the cell phone from her belt and pulls out the earpiece. She’s got her gun in her right hand and the phone in her left. Holding the receiver out for Shep, she adds, “Lapidus wants to speak to you…”
Shep glances at me, then back to Joey. Without the slightest of pauses, he steps forward, studying Joey’s reaction. Joey smiles playfully, studying his. I stand there motionless and realize these two are playing in a different league. I have no idea who’s got the advantage.
As Shep approaches her, Joey watches for the tell. A twitch in his eye… a shift in his shoulder… anything she can latch on to. But Shep’s too good to give it.
The closer Shep gets, the more he towers over her. I expect Joey to step