You Know Who I Am (The Drusilla Thorne Mysteries Book 2) Read Free Page B

me. Sam said, “He went around to stage left. Said he had a new end tonight.”
    Sam, darling Sam. So good with the mechanical things, and so much slower with others. I ran behind the fire curtain to the other side of the stage: no Colin.
    I dashed to the back door of the stage, which emptied out into the employee parking area. When we arrived at the casino for our little talk, Colin had taken the space right by the fire door, and I parked next to him. I pushed open the fire door into a cool Las Vegas night. The Strip lit up the heavens two miles away. The halogen light near the fire door showed me the parking space was empty.
    Colin Abbott had abandoned his own show.
    I stood in the entrance of the fire door for a millennia or two, trying to understand this. I could sooner believe Colin would literally saw me in two—or three, or more—than I could wrap my mind around him leaving his magic show.
    I thought of the note. Sorry, have to go .
    He’d left before I could.
    “Filth-swilling whoremonger of Babylon,” I muttered before slamming the door shut. Q slouched nearby. “Give me your phone.” He handed over his mobile without so much as a peep. Smart boy. I called Colin’s cell.
    It rang. And rang.
    He was gone. And he’d taken my bracelet with him. My stupid goddamned bracelet.
    “Where is he?” The voice was oily and loathsome, and that was the best part of the man.
    When I turned around, I found Barry Coffey glaring at me. Barry Coffey was short, round, balding, and the producer of our show for the casino. He had thick, stubby fingers and his suit—I think he had only the one—stunk of cigars. He’d hated me since I arrived, because I’d told him, rather forcefully and a mite shy of breaking a digit, that I was not open for business. He’d tried again when Colin had proposed the Grand Guignol theme. Colin explained that it would be messy, but a great selling point. Coffey’s response? She gives me a blowjob, you can have your show. Without missing a beat, Colin mentioned that not one but two other casinos had contacted us, and we’d tank every show from here on out if we needed to. Coffey caved, but he never forgave us. Didn’t send us a wedding gift either. Told us to be at the theater at the regular time that night.
    Colin had shown some real pendulous testicles with his shove-back at Coffey, because in reality no other casino was interested in us. I admired him for that. It wasn’t like he’d done it out of love.
    Behind Coffey was his main goon, Vin Behar. If Coffey was my number-one bete noire , Behar was not far behind. Of course, Behar had nearly gotten me killed tonight, so he was moving up the list fast.
    “I’d like to know where he is as much as you would,” I told them.
    “You would, huh? So would I. That’s my money.” Coffey waved his cigar around. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my bicep, and he leaned in close. Ugly cigar smell, masking something…uglier. “Where is he?”
    I looked him right in the eye. “I recommend taking your hands off me.”
    Coffey grinned at me as he let go. “You’re his wife. So until I find him, I’m keeping your ass under hard surveillance.” A nasty grin, his gaze fixed on my tits. A grin that meant that one way or another, I was on that hook Colin had disappeared off of.
    He was kidding himself if he thought he’d get anywhere with me without some part of his body snapping off. Any part. I wouldn’t be particular.
    “Find him. And you’re not going anywhere, until I get my money back. One way or another.” In case I didn’t get his meaning, he stuck his cigar back in his mouth. The man had all the subtlety of the rhino he resembled.
    I grabbed his hand and twisted his arm behind his back, and then kicked the back of his knee. He was face-down on the ground, lighted end of the cigar dangerously close to his cheek. “Don’t touch me. Or next time I’m going to break this. Slowly. And with a great deal of pleasure.” And I