Page 76 of Live a Little!

A snort of disbelief silenced him. “Have you forgotten the packaging she hid under the pallet just over there?” Neville reminded him, jerking his chin toward where she and Jake had checked out the chopstickshipment.

“This is about packaging? What, I forgot to recycle?” She began to wonder if the blood had not only drained out of her right arm, but her head as well; nothing was making anysense.

“Don’t play dumb, Cynthia. It doesn’t suit you. Let’s just say we’re big believers in recycling here at Oceanic. Those sheets of packaging coming up from Colombia get recycled in a friendly lab into top-grade cocaine—street value in the millions. But you already knew that. Why don’t you just tell us who else you’re working with, and we can put this unpleasant incident behind us. No hardfeelings.”

No hard feelings? She had the strong feeling thatshe’dend up recycled as fish food. If she could get them to release her, even if they planned to take her to Neville’s house, at least she’d have a chance to get away. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was the best she could come upwith.

She tried to look scared, which wasn’t that difficult under the circumstances. She bit her lip and glanced right and left, then dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “If I tell you, they’ll killme.”

“Tell us everything you know, Cynthia, and we’ll see if we can find a place in our operation foryou.”

As a doorstop?She tried to look relieved and gullible. “I won’t let you down, Neville. Can you take off the handcuffnow?”

“First tell us what youknow.”

“Hey, look. Oreos.” Ormond had grown bored with the interrogation and was opening drawers. The bag of cookies rustled loudly as he stuck his meaty paw in and withdrew a cookie. She noticed his hairy knuckles and recalled the superintendent’s wife had said one of the movers had hairy knuckles. Too bad Cyn hadn’t made the connectionearlier.

“Mmm. I love Oreos,” he said, chomping loudly. Little black crumbs tumbled down his chin like volcanicash.

“Could you manage to hold on to the gun?” Neville admonishedhim.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He slumped into a chair, pointing the gun in her general direction. His other hand, which grasped a fresh cookie, hung down like anape’s.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cynthia saw something scuttle. Something black and furry with a snaking tail. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, the cookie-loving rat had to join the party. A little cry escaped her, and with her free hand she pointed. The rat ran toward the sound of the rustling bag like a hungry farmhand to the dinnergong.

“Whaa…?” Ormond jerked his head in the direction she was pointing and suddenly all hell broke loose. He gave an overweight, middle-aged thug’s version of a squeal of fright, and the rat, which was just about to take the cookie, ended up taking a bite out of his knuckle instead. He knocked the rat flying with one hand, roaring in rage, and then the gun wentoff.

Cynthia closed her eyes and instinctively recoiled, trying to make the smallest possible target. Was this it then? Her life was about to end in this horriblewarehouse?

A hoarse scream rent the air, but it wasn’t coming from her throat. Eyes jerking open, she realized it was Eddie doing the screaming. He fell to the floor, grabbing a bleeding thigh. “Son of a bitch, you shotme.”

And then an explosion rocked the front of the building. Almost immediately she heard the howl of analarm.

The rat darted back among the boxes, taking Ormond’s dropped Oreo cookie withit.

“What the—” Neville glanced at her, then his eyes narrowed into ugly slits. “Keep an eye on her,” he ordered the groaning Eddie, grabbing a gun out of his suit jacket pocket. “Come on!” he ordered Ormond, who followed, sucking his knuckle andcursing.

Cyn didn’t have time to worry about whether the explosion was caused by friend or foe; all she knew this was her one and only chance toescape.

Along with the other contents of her purse, her key ring was on the table, the little silver key winking at her like an unreachable star. It was the key Jake had put there. The key to her sex-shop handcuffs. She knew Neville shopped at the same store. Was it possible that’s where he’d purchased the cuff currently on her right hand? She gazed up at where she was attached to the pipe. The handcuff looked identical to the ones she had at home. Did they have a universal key? She had no idea, but this was her best bet for anescape.

Eddie groaned, more interested in his problems than hers. If she could just get rid of him. “Eddie, let me helpyou.”

He muttered acurse.

“You could bleed to death. Those two just ran off and left you. Unlock these handcuffs so I can bind yourleg.”

“Don’t got the keys.” He stared helplessly at his own sluggishly bleedingthigh.

To trust or not to trust? She glanced down at him and realized he had a gun in his hand. It didn’t bode well for trusting him. “You need to put pressure on that. I think there are some towels in the bathroom, and maybe a first aidkit.”

He gazed up at her, obviously assessing the risk of leaving her there. But it was clear she couldn’t go anywhere without the key to the handcuffs. With much grunting and groaning, Eddie managed to haul himself upright and hop painfully to thebathroom.

Come on, come on,she urged him silently, knowing the other two could return at anymoment.

Eddie made it to the bathroom, but didn’t shut the door. He couldn’t see her, but she imagined he’d be checking on her from time to time. Quickly, she reached forward with her free hand, yanking and straining, but there was a good six inches between where her fingers ended and the tablebegan.

Trying a move she’d seen in an action movie, she raised both arms, gripped the water pipe and swung her body forward. And what she learned immediately was that those movie stunt people must do a lot more sit-ups than she. Her stomach muscles screamed in protest as she tried to hook her foot under the table, missed and swung back with all the grace of a sack ofonions.

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