“Tell me about it. I’ll do some checking of my own,” Paul told him.
“He means, he’ll ask Mikey,” Sari said with a pale smile.
“Mikey knows stuff.”
“Yes, he does,” Cash said. “He’s got connections, and a mind like a steel trap.”
“Cash came out to the house to talk to Mikey,” Sari explained to her husband. “Turns out they served overseas near each other, and they have mutual acquaintances,” she added.
“We do.” Cash chuckled. “Your cousin can tell some stories,” he added to Paul. “Amazing, with his history, that he doesn’t mind talking to policemen.”
“Funny thing, he actually likes cops.” Paul chuckled. “He sits in on a regular Friday night poker game back home with a slew of detectives from the precinct near his house.”
“I like poker myself,” Cash replied.
“Here’s a free tip,” Paul said. “Don’t ever get in a game with Mikey.”
“He cheats?”
“He doesn’t have to. He’s locked out of every damned casino in Vegas, and a couple of big overseas ones, too. I can tell you for a fact that Marcus Carrera meets him at the door if he even walks into the Bow Tie on Paradise Island in the Bahamas.”
Cash laughed. “What luck!”
“Yeah. Pity he got barred. But he already had the Rolls by then, anyway. He could buy a small third world country with what he’s got in Swiss banks.”
A man approaching caught their attention. It was one of the bodyguards, Barton, with a bottle of capsules.
“Mandy said you needed these urgently.” He handed the bottle to Sari.
“Thanks,” she said with a smile. “It really is a mission of mercy,” she told Cash.
“I’ll take her word for it, this time,” Cash told the newcomer with pursed lips. “I don’t trust men who eat sheep’s eyes.”
Barton rolled his. “Listen, they’re an acquired taste which I acquired because it was the only damned thing I could get to eat in the village where I was hiding out.”
“Hey, at least he doesn’t blow up people with hand grenades,” Paul defended him.
“I don’t do that anymore,” came a deep, amused voice from behind them.
They all turned at once. Dr. Carson Farwalker was standing there in a white lab coat with a stethoscope draped around his neck and a clipboard in his hand.
“Luckily, we’re also short on crocodiles in Texas,” Cash mused, alluding to an incident in South America when Farwalker and Stanton Rourke had fed a cold-blooded killer to one.
Carson chuckled. “Luckily. Doc Coltrain sent me out to tell you that Merrie’s doing well,” he added, the smile fading. “He’s putting in the final sutures now. They’ll wheel her down to recovery in about ten minutes.”
“Oh, thank God,” Sari said. Hot, joyful tears ran down her cheeks. “Thank God!”
“Great news,” Paul said. “Thanks, Carson.”
“They’re bringing in your ex-chauffeur,” he told his companions. “Dr. Coltrain will perform the autopsy, probably later today. Maybe it will give you some answers.”
“Maybe so.”
Carson nodded and left them. Cash left a minute later.
Paul pulled Sari into his arms and rocked her. “It’s okay, honey,” he said softly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“We have to catch the killer,” she said at his ear. “We have to. Or next time...”
“Yes. Or next time we might not get lucky. Don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of people hunting him. We’ll find him, baby. We will.”
*
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, Merrie opened her eyes in the recovery room and looked up into her sister’s face.
“I feel like I fell off a cliff,” she said in a weak voice.
Sari squeezed her hand. “I imagine so. You’re all right, sweetheart. Dr. Coltrain patched you up. Now all you have to do is heal.”
Merrie managed a smile. “So sleepy...”
“You go right back to sleep. One of us will be with you, all the time,” Sari promised. “All the time, Merrie.”
Merrie closed her eyes and drifted away.
*
WHEN SARI WENT back out into the waiting room, Paul had company. A tall, very handsome blond man was sitting with him, sipping coffee and looking morose.
“Hi, Sari,” Randall, Ren’s brother, said, rising to shake hands. “How is she?”
“Weak, but she’ll get better,” Sari said wearily. She sat down on the other side of Paul and accepted a cup of black coffee. “This has been a hell of a day.”
“Paul filled me in,” Randall said. “Why did she leave Skyhorn?” he added.
“She used her credit card in Catelow,” Paul said, bypassing the real reason Merrie had begged to come home. “The contract killer traced her to your brother’s ranch.”
Randall ground his teeth together. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I still think she’d be safer there than here, though. It’s so isolated that any movement gets picked up. Although,” he added heavily, “Ren’s beating himself up over a truck driver who almost managed to get on the property. Paid a neighbor to swear he mixed up the address on a delivery. Ren thinks he was looking for a way in that wouldn’t put him under suspicion.”