Page 93 of Defending You
“Don’t act like you give a crap.” Pretty Boy—Mendez, Asher remembered—sneered the words. “He was my friend.”
“He was supposed to be too strong to get taken out by a blow to the head. And anyway, you’re the one we found unconscious. Ask me, it oughta be your head with the bullet hole.”
Asher remembered the linebacker who’d nearly killed him. If not for Cici, he’d have done it. Cici had whacked him in the head, and then Gagnon had killed him.
Asher wouldn’t be shedding any tears. The guy was vicious. Even so, the thought had his stomach dropping. If Gagnon did that to a guy on his side, what would he do to Cici?
The men squared off, and then Falcone lifted his hands. “Look, I’m sorry about your buddy. If we don’t find that thing, Gagnon’s gonna kill us both. So let’s just…” He gestured deeper into the woods.
Thatthing?
Who would refer to a priceless ruby necklace as athing?
They continued their slow search, inching toward the gorge.
Asher moved silently through the woods, keeping his distance but wanting to hear what they said. They must not have searched Cici or else they’d have found The Crimson Duchess. What else could they be looking for?
The men reached the gorge, and Asher ducked behind a bush to watch.
“Jeez,” Falcone muttered, peering down the cliffside. “Look at that mess.”
”The bike’s completely trashed.”
“What if the bag got thrown somewhere?” Desperation laced Falcone’s words. “Could be anywhere in these woods.”
“We keep looking until we find it.” Mendez pulled out a flashlight, its beam cutting through the gathering dusk. “We gotta find a place we can climb down.” He kicked a loose stone over the edge. It clattered on the rocky slope. “This spot’s as good as any.”
“You first.”
“It was your brilliant idea to throw the bike over a cliff instead of searching it properly.”
“My idea?” Seemed Falcone’s Boston accent deepened when he was angry, so the word came out asidear.“You’re the one who said we needed ta make it look like an accident.”
Their bickering faded as first Mendez, then Falcone, lowered themselves over the edge.
Asher listened, half-hoping he’d hear them tumble to the bottom—turnabout and all that—but they both made it.
It didn’t make sense that they hadn’t found the rubies. It wasn’t as if Cici’s money pouch was that well concealed. A quick pat-down and they’d have had it.
Maybe there was some other valuable piece of jewelry in the velvet bag.
He moved deeper into the woods, away from the thugs and the crash site, careful to leave no trail. When he was so far away that he could no longer hear their voices, he found a boulder and tucked Cici’s purse, velvet bag and all, between it and a cluster of ferns.
That should be far enough away and well enough hidden that Gagnon’s merry band of morons would never find it.
He was making his way back toward the crash site and the pickup when he heard a muffled curse from the gorge. He stalked in that direction.
“What?” Falcone’s tone implied more irritation than curiosity.
“I just realized… Where’s the bodyguard? Where’s the body?”
Asher peeked over, barely making out the men in the darkness. They both stood still, looking around.
He ducked just as Falcone lifted his gaze to the rocky hillside where they’d tossed Asher over.
“He was dead,” Mendez said. “I mean, maybe not completely.”
As ifpartiallydead were a thing.
