Kitty and the Dead Man's Hand
Page 40

In the same moment, I stopped, and he turned, reaching under his jacket for what was undoubtedly a gun in a shoulder holster. He froze there, staring at me with a cold gaze. His jaw was set.
“Tell you what,” I said. “I’ll admit that you’re not stupid enough to draw and shoot in here, and you admit that I’m not stupid enough to sprout claws.”
He relaxed incrementally. The hand he drew out from his jacket was empty. But the mask, the easygoing man-about-town I’d seen when I first met him, was gone, and he now wore the stony expression I was used to seeing on Cormac. The hunter had emerged.
Slowly, the mask returned, and he seemed calm when he finally spoke. “Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting here just for me.”
I smiled. “Shall we sit? Since you obviously have something you want to talk about.” He gestured to the booth.
“This your on-site office?” I said.
“Something like that.”
I slid in, sitting right on the edge, not taking my eyes off him. He sat opposite me, and we looked at each other across the table. Our stares definitely held a challenge, and neither one of us was going to look away. And they called me an animal... did he even realize our body language was the same?
I thought about being coy, then realized I didn’t have a clue how to be coy about this, so I laid it out. “Ben’s missing.”
“What do you mean, missing? Like he stood you up or something?” He chuckled, like this amused him.
Was everyone going to immediately assume Ben had ditched me? Was I that ditchable? I closed my eyes, counted to ten, reminded myself that I could claw this guy’s eyes out under the right circumstances. Then I reminded myself that he carried silver bullets. Best be polite.
“I mean missing. Gone. Kidnapped, even.”
He grimaced, confused. “What? I just saw him at lunch—he did exactly what he said he was going to do, won me two hundred bucks in a side game before going to play in that tournament of his. You’re saying someone kidnapped him out of the tournament?”
“Do you know anything about a petty Vegas crime lord named Faber?” I said.
His smile faded. Which actually made me feel worse. He said, “He’s a typical lowlife type. Nasty piece of work, but stay out of his way and you’ll be fine. By the look on your face, I take it Ben got in his way.”
“He tipped the casino off to a cheating ring in the poker room. They got security footage of one of Faber’s goons putting Ben into a car.”
He lowered his voice. We both leaned over the table for our conference. “Do they know he’s a werewolf?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
“Because if Faber and his goons know, and don’t ask me how they might know it, they might have gotten someone from here to go after him.”
I didn’t like the sound of that at all. Mob guys were scary enough, but they probably didn’t use silver bullets, and Ben might have a chance. But if one of Evan’s bounty-hunter crowd was involved—anything could happen.
“Have you heard anything? Have there been any rumors about Faber?”
Evan put his hand on his chin and looked thoughtful. “I can find out. I know a couple of local hunters. I’ll talk to them about what Faber’s been up to.”
When Brenda entered the bar, I recognized her by the rhythm of her heels clicking on the floor and the scent of her leather. She came straight toward us and stood at the table, hand on hip, hip cocked out. Today she wore leather pants that laced up the side and a complicated sleeveless top with more lacing and strategically placed gaps in the fabric.
“I’ve been looking for you,” she said. “I have to say this is the last place I expected to actually find you.”
“Ben’s missing,” I said. “You have anything to do with that?”
Her brow furrowed. Like Evan, she didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. “Missing? When did this happen?”
“This afternoon,” I said. “And why have you been looking for me?”
“Scoot over.” She shoved into the booth next to Evan. “What happened?”
I explained it all again. Like Evan, she nodded in recognition at Faber’s name but didn’t seem to know much about him other than his identity.
“Are you sure he didn’t run off on you?” she asked finally.
“Don’t start with that, please,” I said. “If this guy did take him, wouldn’t the police have been able to find him by now? They know where all these guys are, where they operate.”
Impatient, Brenda shook her head. “Listen, Ben’s a good guy and I don’t want anything to happen to him, either. But that’s the least of your worries right now. Boris and Sylvia have been making noise.”
“What kind of noise?” Evan said.
“They’re bragging about being able to take you down and get away with it,” Brenda said, nodding at me. “She’s been saying she’s spent the last two days scoping you out.”
“I know,” I said. “I saw her at the pool this morning.”
“And you didn’t run? ” Evan said. “I’m amazed you’re still alive.”
Brenda continued. “She’s looking for someone to pay for the hit. But it turns out fame is pretty good protection and she can’t find a buyer.”
“That’s good, right?” I said, my eyes wide and shocky.
“Except this is Sylvia, and she may just do it for laughs.”
“I wouldn’t be laughing,” I said.
Brenda leaned back in the booth. “Anyway, I thought you and Ben should know. But now Ben’s missing. Which is kind of worrying. I wonder if those two are involved.”
Evan set his jaw; it almost looked like a snarl. “Boris and Sylvia. I hate those guys.”
I stared. “But they’re just like you. Same line of work—” Evan and Brenda were both shaking their heads.
“They’re nothing like us,” she said. “Okay, so compared to normal people we may all be pretty dodgy. But even we have rules. You don’t poach anyone else’s bounty, and you don’t go after innocents. But those two—it doesn’t matter. When they shoot you in the back, it probably won’t even be for money. They’ll do it to be nasty.”