Page 73 of Devil's Due

“What did you do?” he asked, and suddenly all that control was gone, and he was moving, movingfast, screaming. “What did you do, you bitch?You were just supposed to take care of her, you weren’t supposed to—”

He went over the table. The woman stumbled backward, terror written all over her face.

“No!” Laskins yelled, and then it was a melee, and when it was over, McCarthy was on the carpet, facedown, panting, with Gregory’s knee in his back. “I will not have this, do you understand? This behavior is unacceptable!”

“Unacceptable!” McCarthy’s voice broke. “You fucking bastards, you have no idea what you’re doing, do you? Ask Simms. Ask Simms if you don’t believe me.”

Silence. The assembled members milled around, and some of them returned to their chairs. Laskins looked around the room, then cleared his throat.

“Unfortunately, we can’t do that,” he said. “Max Simms broke out of his prison three days ago. We have no idea where he is at this point.”

The thank-you messages Jazz and Lucia had gotten had been signed, in invisible ink, by Max Simms.They don’t know that, Lucia thought, and met Jazz’s eyes.

Jazz smiled slightly. Not a nice expression. She was furious, and she wanted to hit something, anything.

The fact that she hadn’t, that she’d let McCarthy be taken down without jumping in with both feet, was significant.

“What do you want?” Lucia asked. “Why are we here?”

Laskins seemed to forget about McCarthy for a moment to focus back on the two of them.

“You’re here for the same reason we all are. Because if you weren’t, you’d be dead,” he said. “And really, we can’t have that happen. Not just now. Now if you don’t sit quietly, I’m going to have Mr. Ivanovich handcuff and gag you.”

“What are you waiting for?” Jazz demanded.

“Something terrible.” It was one of the other Cross Society members, a sad-looking little man in a gray sports coat. He had a ragged fringe of gray hair clinging to the crown of his skull, and big dark eyes behind round glasses. “Something terrible. I wish we could avoid it, but it’s impossible. Something terriblemusthappen.”

Gregory Ivanovich let McCarthy up off of the floor and tossed a tangle of zip ties onto the conference table, along with three leather ball gags. Tools of his trade. Lucia felt her stomach clench when she saw them.

“Sit quietly, or I will do it,” he said. “You know it,dorogaya.Tell them.”

Lucia leaned forward and put a hand on Jazz’s arm. A light pressure, but Jazz got the message.

McCarthy rose to his feet, breathing heavily, face still red with fury, but he didn’t say anything either. After a moment, he took the chair next to Jazz and clasped his hands tight on top of the table. His knuckles turned as pale as parchment.

Silence.

“That’s better,” Laskins said, and turned to look out the window at the view. “That’s better. Now, we wait.”

Two hours later, with no explanation, one of the Society members’ beeper went off, and some unspoken signal was passed. They all relaxed.

Somewhere, something terrible had happened.

“Take them into the other room,” Laskins said to Gregory. “Lock them in. We’ll see to them later.”

He nodded and made a gesture to get Lucia, Jazz and McCarthy to their feet. The next room was an empty office, and Gregory showed them in with another of his extravagant gestures.

With a gun in his hand, of course.

“No lock on the door,” Jazz pointed out. For her, it was a pretty mild tone. Gregory’s lips grinned, but the rest of his face stayed entirely still.

“Pretty one,I’mthe lock,” he said. “I’ll be sitting in a chair across from the door. By all means, open it. I’m a very good shot, but I can always use the practice.”

He pulled the door shut.

“He’s bluffing,” Jazz said.

“No,” Lucia sighed. “He’s not. Ben? You okay?”

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