Page 39 of Wicked Lies

“Has he been in contact with you, threatening you?”

Again, that sounded like Nick thought Jimmy was still alive, or was he just testing her?

“I haven’t had any contact with him.”

Nick shook his head. “With all the people he owed it’s a miracle he’s still alive.”

“Yeah, a miracle.” Her voice caught on the last word.

“But there’s more.” Nick prodded.

Cheryl rolled the glass between her hands, concentrating on how the whiskey coated the sides. “Yes.”

Their eyes met and she saw only concern and compassion. Then an overwhelming need to unburden herself.

“Just tell me. Whatever it is we can—”

“I stabbed Jimmy.” The words tumbled out of her mouth without her permission. “He hit me. He had me pinned against the wall in the alley, and I knew he was going to hit me again.”

The surreal vision of Jimmy’s limp body and his blood coating her hand rose the bile in the back of her throat.

“Was anybody else there? Did anyone see you do it?”

“No.” Just the most notorious mobster in Brooklyn.

“And you didn’t tell anyone else about this?”

“No, I . . . I was so scared.” Especially when Frank finished the job by slicing Jimmy’s throat. “I was planning on leaving Brooklyn that night. I even had some money stashed away in the apartment upstairs, but I got scare and ran.”

Nick searched her eyes, and she looked away, then cursed herself for giving away such a huge tell. First lesson in selling a lie—keep direct eye contact.

“Then what happened?”

“I . . . I came here to the Oasis. I know it sounds crazy, but I had nowhere else to go, then I remembered your offer.”

“What else?”

“Nothing.” Damn her quaking voice.

Cheryl never doubted a guy like Nick wouldn’t ask questions; she just didn’t expect his dark, almost black eyes penetrating her would have such an effect.

“Why don’t we stop playing games.” His voice took on a hard edge she imagined he used right before everything fell to shit.

“Games?” Her voice hit a pitch she’d never heard before. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“If you had all this money stashed, how come you needed a place to stay and a job?”

Easy answer. “Because when I went back to the Pit to retrieve it, Sal, the landlord stole it. Said he was keeping it for the back rent we owed.”

His silent stare unnerved her, but she stayed strong.

“I did some checking and asking around. Before Jimmy took a nosedive into a mountain of coke, you and him pulled off some pretty good scams at high-end resorts and upscale hotels, which says you don’t rattle easily. So I’m asking myself why would someone who’s skilled at running cons be so undone?”

“I refused to be interrogated.” Best offense was a screwed up defense, right? “You have no right to treat me like a criminal” Cheryl tried to rally and get it together, but at four in the morning, the exhaustion of the night hit her hard.

His face flattened out, not at all affected by her dramatic response. “I also asked around about Jimmy, and his lowlife buddies say it’s like he just disappeared into thin air.”

She’d already said too much, and now Nick was connecting the dots. Too much knowledge might be dangerous for both of them.

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