open my wallet, he examined my identification. He appropriated the money and tossed the wallet over his shoulder. "Hey, Moose, catch."
"Ned Harper," the big man said, reading my driver's license. He chuckled. "According to this, he's a truck driver. How many truck drivers pack Lugers in shoulder holsters?"
I analyzed the conversation. These men didn't know I was an AXE agent, so they weren't associated with the assassin at the hotel. For the same reason, they probably weren't responsible for Meredith's murder. That confirmed my theory that I was dealing with two different sets of antagonists.
Sheila said, "I can't tell you why he carried a gun. I only met him today. He talked to me in the restaurant. I liked his style, so I let him bring me home."
"Needed a little sex, did you?"
"I haven't had any lately," she told Moose defiantly. "I've been too busy running from you to live a normal life."
I wriggled my arm furtively, seeing if I could disengage the stiletto up my sleeve. No chance. They hadn't pulled my jacket down far enough to reveal the knife's hiding place, but they had accidentally succeeded in blocking its use.
"This bird's no truck driver," said the man squatted near me. "All this stuff says he is, but 111 lay you odds he's not. You saw how he handled himself."
"Maybe the Mob sent him. That would be a laugh." The big man walked over to me and leaned down. He turned me over and rocked my face with slaps.
Gasping as though I was just regaining consciousness, I opened my eyes wide. I saw a face masked by a stocking, wide shoulders, a neck like a bull's. The hand that grasped my shirt front would have made two of mine and mine weren't small.
The stocking bit had puzzled me at first. Why did they conceal their features when Sheila obviously knew them well? Then I'd realized that they hadn't known who else they would encounter when they broke into the house. The masks were another precaution that labeled them as experts at their trade.
"How you feeling, stud?" the big man asked me.
My hair was damp with blood seeping from a cut near my ear and my head was throbbing with pain. When I spoke, my swelling lip made my voice sound as though I wore a boxer's mouthpiece. "I feel great."
The big man reached inside his coat, pulled his gun out of his belt, and rammed it against my Adam's apple, causing me to gasp. "I've got a crowded schedule and I can only spare you a minute. Are you a hit man? Did the Mob send you here with a contract on the blonde?"
Struggling to draw an even breath, I glanced toward Sheila, who was huddled in a chair, still nude but with the remains of a ripped sheet clutched to her, partly concealing her body. Her fragile face was pale, the dark eyes filled with fright. She was worried not only about herself but about me.
"Speak up or you've had it," Moose told me.
"Yes," I said hoarsely.
Moose nodded and released my shirt front, let me fall. "Hear that, Sheila? You're in trouble with the Mafia."
"You're the one who murdered Abruze."
"But they don't know that. They only know you were there and you didn't get killed, so you must have fingered him." Moose laughed loudly.
The third man appeared in the bedroom doorway. He was dressed like the others. "I pulled all the blinds and made a quick check of the house. The money doesn't seem to be here."
"If it is, she hid it well. Sheila's a bright girl. Aren't you, doll?"
"Too bright to cross you. I didn't steal the money. I've told you that."
"I left it with you. You were responsible for it."
"Moose, if I had it, I'd give it to you. Can't you see I'm scared to death?"
"You're scared, all right, but people will go through a lot for $200,000. Who knows that better than me?" He gestured to the man in the doorway. "Go down the road and get our car and bring it to the house. We may be here for most of the night, but Sheila is going to give us what we want."
"What if she doesn't talk?"
"Sid, I hate for a man to look on the dark side of things. We've
"Ned Harper," the big man said, reading my driver's license. He chuckled. "According to this, he's a truck driver. How many truck drivers pack Lugers in shoulder holsters?"
I analyzed the conversation. These men didn't know I was an AXE agent, so they weren't associated with the assassin at the hotel. For the same reason, they probably weren't responsible for Meredith's murder. That confirmed my theory that I was dealing with two different sets of antagonists.
Sheila said, "I can't tell you why he carried a gun. I only met him today. He talked to me in the restaurant. I liked his style, so I let him bring me home."
"Needed a little sex, did you?"
"I haven't had any lately," she told Moose defiantly. "I've been too busy running from you to live a normal life."
I wriggled my arm furtively, seeing if I could disengage the stiletto up my sleeve. No chance. They hadn't pulled my jacket down far enough to reveal the knife's hiding place, but they had accidentally succeeded in blocking its use.
"This bird's no truck driver," said the man squatted near me. "All this stuff says he is, but 111 lay you odds he's not. You saw how he handled himself."
"Maybe the Mob sent him. That would be a laugh." The big man walked over to me and leaned down. He turned me over and rocked my face with slaps.
Gasping as though I was just regaining consciousness, I opened my eyes wide. I saw a face masked by a stocking, wide shoulders, a neck like a bull's. The hand that grasped my shirt front would have made two of mine and mine weren't small.
The stocking bit had puzzled me at first. Why did they conceal their features when Sheila obviously knew them well? Then I'd realized that they hadn't known who else they would encounter when they broke into the house. The masks were another precaution that labeled them as experts at their trade.
"How you feeling, stud?" the big man asked me.
My hair was damp with blood seeping from a cut near my ear and my head was throbbing with pain. When I spoke, my swelling lip made my voice sound as though I wore a boxer's mouthpiece. "I feel great."
The big man reached inside his coat, pulled his gun out of his belt, and rammed it against my Adam's apple, causing me to gasp. "I've got a crowded schedule and I can only spare you a minute. Are you a hit man? Did the Mob send you here with a contract on the blonde?"
Struggling to draw an even breath, I glanced toward Sheila, who was huddled in a chair, still nude but with the remains of a ripped sheet clutched to her, partly concealing her body. Her fragile face was pale, the dark eyes filled with fright. She was worried not only about herself but about me.
"Speak up or you've had it," Moose told me.
"Yes," I said hoarsely.
Moose nodded and released my shirt front, let me fall. "Hear that, Sheila? You're in trouble with the Mafia."
"You're the one who murdered Abruze."
"But they don't know that. They only know you were there and you didn't get killed, so you must have fingered him." Moose laughed loudly.
The third man appeared in the bedroom doorway. He was dressed like the others. "I pulled all the blinds and made a quick check of the house. The money doesn't seem to be here."
"If it is, she hid it well. Sheila's a bright girl. Aren't you, doll?"
"Too bright to cross you. I didn't steal the money. I've told you that."
"I left it with you. You were responsible for it."
"Moose, if I had it, I'd give it to you. Can't you see I'm scared to death?"
"You're scared, all right, but people will go through a lot for $200,000. Who knows that better than me?" He gestured to the man in the doorway. "Go down the road and get our car and bring it to the house. We may be here for most of the night, but Sheila is going to give us what we want."
"What if she doesn't talk?"
"Sid, I hate for a man to look on the dark side of things. We've
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