No Escape (11 page)

“Beer. Bottled. Domestic is fine.” Heath took money from his pants pocket and paid her when she handed him the beer dripping ice water. The bartender went away as Heath sipped his beer. The ice-cold beer hit the back of his throat and felt like heaven. He ran the chilled bottle across his forehead.

Televisions hanging in different areas of the restaurant broadcasted baseball and soccer games. Other televisions offered continuous advertisements of activities and scenery around the island.

Heath watched Gibson, but he kept an eye out for Lauren, as well. He’d seen her car a couple of times on the way into Kingston and he didn’t think she’d gotten lost. Of course, it was possible. He was also afraid that something had happened to her, that maybe Gibson coming into Kingston was just a feint to draw her out so that some of his bodyguards could seize her.

You’re seeing conspiracies everywhere. Stop. Take a breath. It’s entirely possible that she got lost.
Heath sipped more of his beer.

A server brought drinks to Gibson’s table. A mixed drink for Gibson and coffee for Roylston. Gibson continued to be amused by whatever he was looking at on his iPad.

Heath hated the way Gibson grinned at whatever he was checking out on the device. He thought of how he’d seen Janet, of how he hadn’t been there when she’d needed him. And he thought about how Lauren Cooper had looked down in the morgue when she’d gone to identify her sister.

Nobody should have to hurt like that.

And the guy who was responsible for that pain shouldn’t get to enjoy his life.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Before he knew he was moving, Heath pushed away from the bar and threaded through the tables with single-minded focus. He was barely aware of bumping into people, but he didn’t care.

Roylston noticed Heath’s laser-beam approach immediately. The big man stood and crossed his arms over his broad chest, putting himself out there as a human roadblock between Heath and Gibson.

Gibson gave no indication that he’d even noticed the bodyguard’s movement.

“All right.” The bodyguard’s voice was gruff and low, just threatening enough to be a vocal speed bump. “That’s far enough. You take another step and you’re going to get hurt.”

Anger stirred inside Heath. He wasn’t worried about getting hurt. In fact, getting hurt might even feel good. When his temper flared back as he was playing sports, it felt good to hit and to get hit.

Heath kept coming, stepping into the bodyguard. Roylston put his hand on Heath’s chest to stop him. Lifting his left arm, Heath batted the man’s hand away and took another step.

At the same time, two large men at tables on either side of Gibson stood and reached to their hips. Their jackets kept the weapons concealed, but Heath knew immediately they were carrying.

“Detective Sawyer.” Gibson’s voice was cool and crisp. He lifted his gaze from the iPad, pushed the device onto the table, and steepled his fingers as he rested his elbows there. He smirked, and his dark eyes glowed with magnetic intensity.

Heath made himself breathe and work through his anger. He still wanted to smash Roylston down, if that was possible, and go for Gibson. But that wasn’t how he was going to make his case. All he wanted to do here was rattle Gibson’s cage, shake the man up and let him know that not everyone was just going to walk away from what he’d done.

“What can I do for you?” Gibson sipped his drink and leaned back in his seat.

“I just wanted you to know that I haven’t gone away, that I was still here turning over rocks.”

Gibson leaned back in his seat, totally at ease. “Should I feel threatened? Be impressed by your single-minded intent? Maybe even be proud of your stubborn insistence?” He grinned. “What do you want from me?”

Heath grinned back, a thin, mirthless expression tight on his face and feeling as if it had been frozen there. “I just want the truth about those murders.”

Gibson sipped his drink again. “Careful, Detective. You’re in a public place. You’re coming awfully close to slander.”

Nearly all the afternoon crowd had paused their lunches to observe what was taking place. A few families had left their tables and were edging toward the door.

Heath felt bad about that, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was barely able to control the white-hot fury that threatened to explode from him. That night of horror, trying to deal with Janet’s husband and kids, was indelibly marked in his mind. And thinking about how Lauren Cooper seemed to be determined to involve herself with Gibson pushed him past the point of no return. He didn’t want her to get hurt.

“No slander here, but I’ll make you a promise.” Heath’s voice was stronger and colder and harder than he would have believed. “You’re not going to get away with what you’ve done.”

“Hollow words, Detective.” Gibson took in an easy breath. “You can’t prove I’ve gotten away with anything.”

“I will.”

A little round man wearing a suit and a frown walked to Heath’s side. “Please, sir, I must ask that you leave the premises. Otherwise I will be forced to summon the police. I am sure neither one of us wants that.”

Heath didn’t want that. He didn’t know how much it would take to get him thrown out of the city, but he definitely wanted to stop short of that point. If Lauren was going to insanely continue her observation of Gibson, Heath wanted to pull all of the man’s attention to himself and hope that the woman escaped notice.

“Sure. I’ll go.” Heath locked eyes with Gibson, but the magician just returned his attention to his iPad. “But I’ll be around.”

A gold coin suddenly appeared in Gibson’s hand, then rolled across his knuckles and disappeared in a twinkling.

Seething, barely under control, Heath turned and left the restaurant. Roylston and his two companions didn’t return to their seats till after Heath had stepped into the street and headed for the parking lot. Two of the restaurant staff followed him, both of them good-sized guys who probably handled aggressive guests.

Heath swore at himself. He had intended to play the surveillance cool. Just watch and learn. But thinking of Lauren Cooper getting involved and perhaps getting hurt because she didn’t know any better had thrown him off his game. The woman was going to cause all sorts of problems for—

From the corner of his eye, Heath caught sight of a familiar figure walking into the restaurant.

Lauren had ditched the beachwear for a lightweight dress that accentuated her figure. Heath realized that the only way she could have possibly gotten dressed that quickly around here was changing in the car on the drive over. He hadn’t been at the restaurant that long. Imagining her changing her clothing in the car was distracting, and by the time he’d realized she was still moving, she was inside the restaurant.

Heath tried to follow, but two staff members stepped toward him. The bigger one shook his head.

Disgusted with the situation, Heath held up his hands in surrender, then turned and jogged across the street to his car. He unlocked the door and climbed inside, then picked up his binoculars and followed Lauren Cooper’s progress through the restaurant.

She looked beautiful...and too vulnerable.

* * *

Walking through the restaurant was a performance. Lauren focused on that, telling herself that again and again as she closed in on Gibson’s table. She didn’t take a direct route because that would have drawn too much attention and possibly put the man on the defensive. She wasn’t sure exactly how she wanted to approach Gibson, but she thought if she could get him talking, maybe she could learn something.

She paused at the bar long enough to order a glass of wine. From her vantage point, she had a clear view of Gibson. The man seemed consumed by his tablet, pausing every now and again to tap on the surface, presumably sending emails.

He didn’t look like a killer. Lauren had tried to picture Gibson as that, as the man who had taken Megan’s life, but she couldn’t. The man was magic, capable of captivating an audience and doing the impossible right before everyone’s eyes. The magicians who gathered at the magic store spoke of Gibson with awe and envy. Many of them didn’t understand how Gibson had hit the public eye so easily. His connections with the media had seemed equally as magical.

She sipped her wine, barely tasting it.

Screwing up her courage, afraid that Gibson was only there for drinks and would soon get up and leave, Lauren left the wine on the bar and headed in the general direction of the bathroom.

On the way there, Gibson pierced her with his stare.

For a moment, Lauren was afraid that Gibson had somehow recognized her. Megan had carried photos of them together in her purse. If Gibson had killed Megan, he might have gone through her things. There was nothing in the White Rabbit files that had indicated any such interest, though. The man had simply killed his victims. Except for Detective Janet Hutchins. The killer had taken his time and tortured her.

This is a performance. Perform.
Lauren forced herself to smile and turned to face Gibson. She turned off all her feelings of loss and pain and battened them down deep inside herself the way she had when she’d been in the foster homes. She’d learned how to perform there first, and she’d learned how to be invisible even in a crowd.

She crossed the distance to Gibson’s table and held out a hand, holding her clasp purse in her other hand. “Gibson?
The
Gibson? The magician?” She put as much “ooh” and “ahh” into her voice as she could, surprised at how easy it was even under these conditions. She was a fan of his work, after all.

The man seated at the table stood and put a hand out to block her advance, stopping just short of actually touching her. “I’m going to have to ask you to stand back, miss.”

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself.” Lauren continued to look at Gibson. “It’s just that I’m one of your biggest fans. I saw the show you did in—” she started to say Chicago, then realized that might remind him of Megan and make him cautious “—Minneapolis two years ago.” She had seen the Chicago show in person, with Megan, but she had watched the Minneapolis performance on HBO. “I still can’t figure out how you made that big Humvee disappear.”

Gibson plucked a speared olive from his drink and leaned back in his seat. He popped the olive into his mouth and bit down. “It was magic, of course.”

Lauren forced herself to grin like a loon. “Of course it was.” She looked at the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”

The big man took his hand back but didn’t sit. He kept his face neutral and never took his gaze from her. “Mr. Gibson prefers his space.”

“I understand. I don’t mean to be a bother, but I didn’t know you were here. Are you performing?”

Gibson shook his head and flashed white teeth. “No. A bit of a vacation actually.”

Lauren smiled. “This is a great place for a vacation.” Several of the nearby guests kept track of the conversation with obvious interest.

Gibson’s gaze traveled up and down Lauren, and for a moment the cold appraisal in his dark eyes made her want to shiver. Part of his interest was sexual, she recognized that, and she squelched her immediate impulse to walk away. There was something dirty and hungry in Gibson’s attention, and that surprised her.

This man killed Megan.
The thought rocketed through Lauren’s head with iron-clad conviction. She didn’t know precisely what had caused her to suddenly believe that, but she did.

“It is.” Gibson dropped the plastic spear from the olive back into his empty drink glass. “You should enjoy your time here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think that’s my lunch.” He pointed over her shoulder.

Turning slightly, Lauren found one of the servers waiting patiently behind her with food on a tray. Lauren stepped back out of the way. “I apologize for coming over.”

Gibson ignored her, focusing on the server as she placed the salad, soup and seafood dish on the table in front of him. “Not a problem. I’m glad you enjoyed the show. I look forward to bedazzling you in the future.”

Dismissed, Lauren started to go. She had never in her life tried to approach a man like that, hoping to get herself invited to his table. Getting sent on her way in such a cavalier fashion actually stung in spite of all the other mixed feelings about Megan. It also frustrated her because she didn’t know how she was supposed to get close enough to the man to find out more.

“Miss.”

Lauren turned back to Gibson. He held up an empty hand, then turned it, closed it and opened it again. A silver coin lay in his palm.

“A memento, perhaps?” Gibson held the coin perched at the end of his thumb and forefinger.

“I’d love one.” Lauren made herself smile as she reached for the coin. The metal felt cold and hard against her skin. She closed it in her fist. “Thank you. I’ll be looking forward to your next show.”

Gibson nodded, but his attention was already on the meal in front of him.

Lauren headed back to the bathroom feeling miserable but turned and walked out of the restaurant a different way than she’d entered. She felt miserable because seeing Gibson there, so nonchalantly going on with his life even if he hadn’t killed Megan—which Lauren no longer believed—bothered her deeply. She wasn’t going to just walk away and accept things, but she didn’t know what she was going to do to change things, either.

* * *

A large shadow fell over Lauren as she used the key fob to open the locks on her rental. She checked the reflection in the window glass to see who had made the shadow. She thought it might be the big man who had been sitting with Gibson. That guy had looked as if he was no stranger to violence.

She turned around with the keys clenched between her fingers, ready to strike out if she had to. Her other hand held her clasp purse, but her fingers had already started lifting the door handle.

Heath Sawyer stopped only a few inches away, just short of touching her. The heat from his body radiated against her, and the smell of his cologne and natural musk filled her nose and made her senses dance. God, why did the man have to look so good? She had never been so captivated by a man she’d spent so little time with.