“She looks so much like Bridget,” Rose commented.
“Poor thing must have been exhausted,” Iris said. “She’s still asleep. It was so weird. It was like Kip couldn’t leave that room.”
“He probably wanted you to take Brianna,” Marge said. “That’s why he didn’t stop you.”
The women moved from the doorway of Iris’s home office where Brianna was sleeping on a pull-out couch and walked into the kitchen.
“I have some darling little great-nieces. Maybe they can come and play with Brianna today while you’re at work,” Marge suggested.
“Iris, you did the right thing,” Rose said, guessing what was on her daughter’s mind. “From what you said, it sounds like Kip has lost his mind. That poor child has been through enough.”
Iris sighed deeply. “I don’t even know what the right thing is anymore. Could Kip have me arrested for kidnapping? I’d better call Brianna’s grandparents and let them know where she is.”
As Iris was dialing the Tylers’ number, Rose peered inside the refrigerator. “No wonder you look like skin and bones. There’s no food in this house.”
Iris dug her thumb into the loose waistband of her skirt. “I’ve lost weight. I’ve been so busy, I hadn’t noticed.” She looked out the picture window at the rain that was still steadily falling as it had all night. “Hi,” she said into the telephone. “This is Iris Thorne. Who’s this?…You’re one of Bridget’s brothers, aren’t you? I’m sorry to be calling so early. Is Natalie around?…No, no, there’s no need to contact them. Let them enjoy their time away. Everything’s fine. I just wanted to let them know that Brianna’s staying with me for a few days. My number should be in Natalie’s book.…Okay. G’bye.”
“Where does Brianna go to school, Iris?” Marge asked.
“School?” Iris said. “I forgot about school.”
“She can miss one day,” Rose said.
Iris looked at her watch. “I’d better make an appearance at the carnival of horrors. I’ve got my own boss monster to deal with. See you later.”
Iris walked into McKinney Alitzer’s sales department with her head held high, her footsteps firm and certain, and a pleasant smile pasted on her face. She was late arriving and the department was in full swing with everyone pitching product as if their lives depended on it. They did.
She saw Evan Finn on the phone in his new office and had to count to ten to calm down. Your hours are numbered, pal, she silently reassured herself. Kip Cross isn’t the only one with a strategy.
“Morning, Louise,” she said to her assistant, who looked at her over the top of her half-glasses. That gesture always made Iris feel like a recalcitrant schoolgirl. “How’s the temperature?”
“I think everyone’s trying to pretend that Evan doesn’t exist. Half a dozen people have asked me what in the world is going on.”
“And you tell them?”
“Nothing’s going on.”
Iris nodded with satisfaction and went inside her office. She was putting her things away when Louise came in.
“Jim Patel of Tech Associates called and canceled his lunch date with you today.”
“Another venture capitalist who won’t come near me. He’s not getting off the hook that easily.”
“You have his number?”
“Indeed I do.” Iris sat in her leather chair, picked up a manila file folder from the corner of her desk, opened it, and dialed the number scribbled on the inside front cover. After plowing past a receptionist and stepping on a secretary, she reached Patel.
“Hi, Jim. Iris Thorne. Sorry to hear about our lunch date today. I’d like to reschedule. Let’s set something up for when you return.…Uh-huh. Jim, let’s be frank. Do you not want to meet with me because you have doubts about Pandora’s prospects?…Who told you that Kip Cross is holed up in his house acting like a lunatic?…Well, the grapevine is passing misinformation. Kip Cross is holed up in his house, all right, but it’s because he’s hard at work on Pandora’s next release. When the new game is out and it leaves everything else in the technological dust, you’ll regret not having jumped in early.” They ended the call with obligatory and false pleasantries.
Iris was still steaming when Louise came in with a mug of black coffee.
“Kip Cross is losing his mind and the word is already out.”
“T. Duke Sawyer?” Louise ventured.
“Maybe. Or it’s someone at Pandora. Each time T. Duke lowers the price, the employees lose money. I wouldn’t put it past them to try and sabotage me.”
“Even Toni Burton?”
“No, she’s for going public. She’s already made a play for me to name her president of Pandora. She wouldn’t have that kind of clout if Pandora was absorbed by the Sawyer Company.” Iris leaned to one side and looked out her door, catching a glimpse of Evan’s office. “Speaking of Sawyers, what’s Top Gun been up to?”
“Quietly working in his new, private office. Iris, I have to let you know that you lost face around here by hiring Evan back and giving him special perks.”
“Thanks for your candor, Louise, but I’d figured as much.” Iris took a sip of coffee, then stood and fumbled inside her jacket pocket. “I’d best wish him a cheery good morning.”
Evan was on the phone, his chair swiveled to face his office window, his back to the door. When she knocked on the doorjamb, he turned and seemed pleasantly surprised to see her. He regally waved her inside.
She closed the door behind her and gave a quick twist to the rod of the miniblinds over the window that faced the suite, closing them. She sat stiffly in a chair facing his desk.
A cigarette burned in an ashtray near Evan. There was a no-smoking policy in the building. Iris figured no one had got up the courage to confront Evan about it.
“Sounds good,” he said into the phone. He took a drag on the cigarette and rakishly winked at her.
Can it, A-hole, she said to herself. It’s lost on me.
When he tapped his cigarette over the ashtray, she noticed his knuckles were bruised.
“Iris,” he enthused as he hung up the phone. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He clearly thought she was working for him.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about you, Evan,” she said.
“Have you?” He took another drag on his cigarette and slowly let the smoke trail from between his sensuously parted lips.
She surveyed the surroundings. “Looks like you’ve got it all now. Window office, title, paycheck…just like a real citizen.”
Grinning, he pressed out the cigarette in the ashtray. “It all started here.”
“Next you’ll be paying taxes, voting, curbing your dog…,” she said sarcastically.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“My ass. You never were and never will be anything more than a freak”—she paused—“with good taste in clothes.”
His eyes grew cold the same way they had the day he’d assaulted her in her office. “Freak?” He raised his eyebrows. “Speak for yourself. I’ve been watching you. I know how you live. You’re the fucking freak.”
Iris knew she was in deep, but she had no intention of stopping. She was taking a sadistic pleasure from prodding him, having been on the other end of that stick one too many times lately. She casually examined her fingernails. “Tell me, Evan. That prostitute in Vegas, Holly Free… Did you throw her over the balcony in one clean thrust or did she struggle?”
He stared hard at her. “You got some mouth on you, you know that?”
“How did it sound when she hit the ground?”
“You tell me. Sounds like you know all about it.”
She gave herself an impromptu manicure as she talked. “Did it excite you?”
“You’re asking for it, Iris.”
She feigned disappointment. “C’mon, Evan. I’ve never talked to a real murderer before. Well, no one who I knew for sure…”
“I’ll give it to you, Iris. You know I will.”
“Is this the way Holly Free talked to you before you killed her? How about Bridget? You probably didn’t give poor Bridget a chance to talk.”
He bolted from the chair and circled the desk. She stumbled getting up, knocking her chair over as she backed against the wall. He had almost reached her when he stopped in his tracks and slowly stepped back.
The .22 she held was aimed straight at his heart. “Put your things in your briefcase and get the hell out.”
“You’d never shoot me.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t. But I’ve been doing a lot of crazy things lately. Are you willing to take that chance?”
They stared at each other for several long seconds. Finally, Evan returned to the desk, threw his belongings into his briefcase, snapped it closed, opened the door, and walked out.
Iris tentatively stepped into the doorway where she could see Evan quickly moving through the suite and into the lobby. After he was gone, she slipped the gun back into her pocket, righted the chair she’d knocked over, collapsed into it, and pressed her hand against her pounding heart. She was still sitting that way when Liz came in.
“There you are.” Liz looked around. “Where’s Top Gun?”
“Off in the wild, blue yonder, I guess.” Iris nervously smoothed her hair, then pulled the gun from her pocket. “I want to give this back to you.”
“But you just borrowed it yesterday. I thought you wanted to try it out at the gun range to see if you’d like one for yourself. Keep it awhile. I’ve got three bigger ones at home. Hell, the one I keep in my glove compartment is bigger than that bitsy thing.”
Iris again held the gun toward Liz. “I’ve changed my mind. Don’t want a gun. Don’t like guns. I’d have to get a permit to carry one anyway.”
“Permit schmermit,” Liz said disdainfully as she took the weapon from Iris. Liz checked to see if it was loaded. It was. “Know what my cop clients tell me: better to be judged by twelve than carried by eight.” She slipped it into her jacket pocket.
“I’ve found you.” Louise breathlessly appeared in the doorway. “Sam Eastman’s wife just called. Sam’s in the hospital. He’s been beaten.”
At the hospital, Janice Eastman got up from the chair next to Sam’s bed and met Iris outside the door, but not before Iris caught a glimpse of her boss. His face was bruised and swollen almost beyond recognition.
“Janice, what happened?”
“Sam figures the guy snuck into the garage when he was pulling the car in last night. When he got out, the guy slugged him in the head from behind, then beat him.” Her voice cracked. “He kicked him when he was on the ground. What kind of monster would do something like that?”
“Did Sam see who it was?”
She shook her head. “A tall man wearing a ski mask.” She gazed into Sam’s room. “The doctors say he’ll be fine. He wants to talk to you.”
Iris walked into the room, trying not to look horrified by Sam’s appearance. She rested her fingers lightly on his arm.
He looked at her through slits in his swollen eyes. “I’m sorry, Iris. I told myself I did it for the money. Lying here, I’ve had time to think about it. It wasn’t about money. I was jealous of you.”
Iris didn’t say anything. She didn’t like or respect the man, but it pained her to see anyone in the shape he was in, and the bold honesty of his confession brought a tear to her eye. “Who did it, Sam? Evan?”
“I don’t know. Last night, T. Duke called me, wanting the money back he’d paid me. Told me the deal was that Evan would stay in the firm until the SEC got wind of it and started investigating. I told him I’d fulfilled my part of the bargain. I wasn’t going to give the money back. Could have been Baines, for all I know.”
“I think it was Evan, Sam. His knuckles on his right hand were bruised today. It was revenge for setting him up.”
“Is he at the office?” Sam asked.
“He’s gone. For now, at least.”