Page 173 of Nothing More
“I just watched you slip two-hundred dollars up your sleeve,” Raven insisted. “You dirty, rottencheat.”
He feigned affront. “How dare you? I would never!” He’d put on this poncy, antiquated accent that brought to mind a dowager from a Jane Austen novel, and Cassandra was fast losing the battle against a case of the giggles.
Raven felt her own laughter simmering, but kept it together. “Fine. Show us your sleeve, then.”
He lifted his nose in the air, furthering the dowager impression. “And why should I? After such vile accusations? I never–” When he lifted his hand to gesture, Cass rocked forward and snatched the edge of a bright pink Monopoly bill from his cuff and pulled it out victoriously.
“Ha!” she crowed.
“Ha!” Raven echoed.
Tenny whipped a scowl toward Cass – but the twitch of his lips betrayed a barely-restrained smile.
Cass was laughing openly, eyes scrunched up, delighted with herself.
“You’re an evil little shit,” Tenny told her.
Cass stuck out her tongue and laughed some more.
Tenny twisted around toward the sofa, where Reese and Toly sat watching an American football game, of all things. “Babe, they’reslanderingme,” Tenny complained.
Reese lifted his hand and patted the air in athere-theregesture, which was Raven’s final undoing. She tried to smother her laugh in her hand, and wound up snorting in unladylike fashion anyway.
Tenny picked up his empty Coke can and tossed it – it landed harmlessly on the floor in front of the sofa.
In a dry voice, Toly said, “We’re trying to watch the game.”
“Neither of you two idiots knows a bloody thing about American football,” Tenny shot back. “Who’s even playing?”
A pause.
“Green versus blue,” Reese finally said, which set Raven and Cass off in a fresh peals of laughter.
Tenny, grinning wickedly now, said, “What are the names of the teams?”
Another pause, then Toly said, “The Bulls. And the…Mockingbirds.”
“Fuckingidiots,” Tenny swore, grin so wide it looked like it hurt.
Evening was coming on fast and hard, the dark falling like shades being drawn down the windows, the fields and forests around them a surreal, twilight blue edged with black and white, clouds thick and angry above. Inside, a fire crackled in the hearth, and the Christmas lights glowed on the tree, and mantel, and door lintels. Raven had lit evergreen-scented candles, earlier, and they competed now with the scent of dinner: a thick beef stew left to simmer all day on the stovetop.
Game sufficiently ruined by Tenny’s cheating – he was already consolidating their piles of money and telling Cass he’d teach her five card stud, which Raven didn’t like, but had learned herself at King’s hands years ago, so… – she decided she ought to check on things in the kitchen. She stood up off the floor, and then froze when the driveway alarm chimed through the house.
It was an instant, automatic reaction, a pluck at her spine, one she saw echoed in the sudden stillness of the others. They were relaxing, enjoying one another’s company, having a good time…but they hadn’t thrown caution to the wind completely.
“I’m sure it’s Joanna,” Raven said, brushing a last wrinkle from her joggers and walking to the front windows. “She said she might bring a pie over; said she made too many for her kids’ bake sale.” She pushed aside a bit of sheer curtain and saw the glare of headlights, bright against the gloaming, on the way up the drive. A car, then, and not a bike. The lights were the bright, eye-watering blue of brand-new halogens, rather than the cheerful yellow glow of the ones on Joanna’s minivan. Not her, then.
When she turned, she saw that Toly had swapped the channel so the TV showed the security feeds, six small black and white frames running in real time. The camera showed them a small, low-slung car that hugged the ground, with a sloped roof. Something designed for speed.
Tenny stepped in close to the television and squinted at the grainy footage. “That’s a Jag,” he said.
“Ian?” she asked, hopeful the prickling of worry at the base of her skull was unfounded.
“Nah. The one he uses for work is a sedan, and his private coup is white.”
“Oh. Right.”
Silently, Reese stood, crossed the room, and slipped out onto the porch. Through the window, Raven saw him draw his gun.
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