Cooking Up Murder (29 page)

Read Cooking Up Murder Online

Authors: Miranda Bliss

"Miss Capshaw. You know who this is."

Yuri.

"Your little trick, it did not work so good. I am not amused. How stupid you were to think I could be so easily fooled." He clicked his tongue. "I like Sinatra, but really!"

Sinatra?

It took a second for the pieces to fall into place. When they did, my blood went cold.

With one ear still tuned to the rest of what Yuri had to say, I raced to the bedroom. Sure enough, the jewel case where I'd originally stashed Beyla's disc was gone. I hadn't told Eve I'd switched the disc for Sinatra's greatest hits. And Eve was the only one who had a duplicate key to my apartment. That meant--

I flew back in the living room just in time to hear Yuri say something about a last chance.

"You have only one hour. Then I will be forced to take serious measures."

I didn't like the sound of that.

I grabbed the phone and hit the Talk button. "Hello? Hello? I'm here. I'm listening. I couldn't answer in time."

There was no reply. I cursed myself for being so slow. But then I heard a rustling, as if the phone was being handed from one person to another.

"Annie?"

I almost didn't recognize Eve's voice, it was so soft and frightened. My heart sank.

"Annie, it's me. I'm here with Yuri."

"Are you OK? What on earth possessed you to get the disc and take it to him? Tell him you didn't know, Eve. Tell Yuri it's not your fault. You didn't know I switched the discs."

"I didn't know you switched discs." Eve sniffled. She was crying, and I could tell she wasn't listening to a word I said. "He says he's not mad or anything and I hope you're not, either. I couldn't let you take the disc to the police, Annie. I didn't want to see you go to jail. Don't worry, Yuri says nothing's going to happen to me but . . . but . . ." She sniffed. "Annie, he says I can't leave. Not until you get here with the real disc. I don't want to stay here with him."

"Where's here? Eve, where are you? Are you--"

"You see we have a serious problem." Yuri was back on the line. I knew I had to keep the panic out of my voice--there was nothing to be gained from him knowing that I was scared to death. "You will bring the disc, yes?"

For once in my life, I didn't hesitate. "Yes. Of course."

"And you will not bring the police."

I hadn't thought of that, but now that he mentioned it, it was a damn good idea.

But again, no hesitation. "No. No police. But you have to guarantee me that Eve is going to be OK."

"OK?" I didn't see what was so funny about it, but Yuri laughed. "Of course your Miss DeCateur is going to be OK. Why would she not be? You do not think I am a . . . how do you say it? A bad guy, do you?"

I wasn't so sure, but I wasn't taking any chances. "Of course not. And I understand about how you want revenge because of what Beyla did to Drago. But you have to understand--"

"What?"

I have never heard a single word spoken with more venom.

I swallowed down what I was going to say--the part about how if one little hair on Eve's head was out of place, I was going to hunt Yuri down to the ends of the earth like a dirty dog and hang his intestines on my Christmas tree for garland.

"You have to understand that I need to know where to meet you," I told him instead.

As it turned out, I didn't need to worry about the ends of the earth. When I asked Yuri where to bring the disc, his answer was short and sweet.

Arta.

Of course.

IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO FIND A PARKING PLACE IN
Georgetown. No big surprise there. But I was surprised when I got to the gallery and didn't find a single light on.

I hoped I wasn't too late.

The front door was locked, so I went around to the side. There, the door handle turned easily. I inched the door open and toed the invisible line between the gallery and the stone stoop outside.

"Hello! Yuri? It's me, Annie. Annie Capshaw. Are you here?"

No answer, and no lights, either. I fished in my purse for my flashlight and flicked it on, sending the skinny beam skimming through the hallway that led from the side door into the gallery. I followed it inside.

"Yuri? Eve? I'm here, and I brought the disc. The right one this time." I took the disc out of my purse and waved it in the air. I don't know why, it wasn't like anyone could see it in the pitch dark. "You want to tell me what's going on?" I asked. "Just tell me where you want me to leave the disc and--"

My flashlight beam skimmed over a body lying on the floor, and my words evaporated in sheer terror.

Though her face was turned away from me, I'd recognize the haircut and the three-inch heels anywhere.

"Eve!" I raced over to where she was sprawled behind the sales counter. Kneeling beside her, I felt for a pulse. It was thready, but it was there, and she was breathing. I barely had time to register relief when I heard a voice behind me.

"Not dead. Drugged." It was Yuri.

I hopped to my feet and spun to face him. When the flashlight beam hit his face, he put a hand up to his eyes. "You will turn the light off, please," he said, but I wasn't in the mood to negotiate. At least not too much or too soon. I lowered the beam toward the floor.

"Drugged? Why?" I asked him. "Eve wasn't going to cause any trouble. And she's not the one who changed the discs--that was me. She didn't know anything about it."

"I thought as much." Yuri took a step toward me. When he did, the light of my flashlight glanced over something metal in his hands. A gun.

My blood rushed so loud and so fast in my ears, I could barely hear what he had to say.

"I thought perhaps that it would be quieter if Miss DeCateur took a little nap. Then she would be less trouble and not so whiny. Poor thing. She is so lovely, but I knew she was not smart enough to change one disc for the other. But you, you are. Now, you have brought the disc with you? The proper disc?"

I put my hand--and the disc in it--behind my back.

"I brought the disc. It's outside. In the car. Here." With my other hand, I felt around in my purse for my car keys. It was the same hand I was using to hold the flashlight, and as I searched, the light was smothered. When I found the keys, I tossed them in Yuri's direction, hoping that when he went to catch them, he'd lower the gun that was pointed directly at me. Wrong. He never even tried to catch the keys. They landed on the floor with a clank.

"Come, come, Miss Capshaw. I have just complimented you. I have told you that I believe you to be a bright young woman. The least you can do is offer me the same confidence in return. I am not stupid. You have the disc with you--you said as much when you walked in. If you will hand it over, we can finish with this business."

"Not until you tell me what's going on. What did you give Eve? When will she wake up?"

Yuri chuckled. In the dark, the sound was sinister. And too close for comfort--Yuri had taken a few steps closer.

"You do not understand yet, do you?" he asked. "You think life is like the stories you watch on your American television. Happily ever after. That is what you are waiting for, yes?"

I stepped back. "You're not going to be happy, either, if you don't get this disc. How else are you ever going to prove that Beyla is guilty?"

My own words echoed back at me. And that's when it hit me.

Well, actually,
hit me
is putting it mildly. It ran into me like a freight train going full speed.

I can't say that I know what a fell swoop is, but I know for sure that's how the truth came to me. It landed right on top of me, all in one fell swoop.

"You and Beyla
are
in it together! Just like I thought when I saw you two at the restaurant. You pretended you were just there trying to find out what she knew, but you were really discussing strategy." When Yuri didn't answer, I kept right on putting two and two together. "You're the one who had dinner with Drago at Bucharest that night. Beyla couldn't have--she was at class. You're the one who slipped him the foxglove, then she picked the argument with him to throw us off track. That's why it was so important for you to get the receipt back. You knew it didn't show that I was guilty. It showed that you were with Drago the night he died."

"Brava!" Yuri could afford to give me a little bow and a smile that glinted in the glow of my flashlight. After all, he was the one holding the gun. "So, you are as smart as I thought. That's too bad, really, because it means I will have to kill you."

Talk about irony--I almost said
over my dead body
.

This was one of those times when actions spoke louder than words.

I shone the flashlight right in Yuri's eyes.

"Bitch!" He put a hand up to shield the beam, but by that time, I'd already made my move. I took off running across the gallery, switching my flashlight off at the last second so I wouldn't give away my position. A moment later, I ducked below the front windows so that Yuri couldn't see me against the bit of light that seeped in from the sidewalk that faced M Street.

"You cannot get away." From the sound of his voice, I guessed that Yuri hadn't moved far from where we'd started out, but it was hard to tell. The ceilings were open and high, and his words ricocheted against the redbrick walls and the hardwood floors. "It will be easy to find you here."

I flattened my back against a cold, stone sculpture. "I was lying when I said I had the disc with me. I left it somewhere. Somewhere safe. And without me, you'll never find it. Then you won't have Drago's inventory. That's what it is, isn't it? An inventory list of guns?"

Maybe I was imagining it, but I think the fact that I knew about the guns stunned Yuri a bit--he didn't say anything for what seemed like an eternity. When he did, his voice came from somewhere on my right. Too close for comfort. I moved from the shelter of the sculpture.

"I hope for your sake that you do not think this is the smart way to deal with our little problem," he said. "You will only make this harder on yourself. Harder on you and harder on her."

In a flash, the overhead lights came on. I was blinded for a moment, but that moment dissolved all too quickly. When it did, I saw that Yuri had one hand on the light switch. He had dragged Eve to her feet and was holding her upright with his free arm. Her eyes were still closed, and she could barely stand--she swayed back and forth as if she were drunk. Yuri put the gun to Eve's head.

"The disc," he said. "Now. Or your friend dies right here, right now, right in front of your eyes."

He might have been bluffing, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. Not with Eve's life.

I kept my place and held the disc out to him. "Here. Come and get it."

"Bring it to me."

"Move away from Eve."

Yuri laughed. "You try so hard to bargain. I am impressed, Miss Capshaw. Who would have thought that a bank teller could be so tough? But there will be no bargaining. Just as there is no escape. You know too much."

"You mean about the guns."

"The guns, yes. The guns Drago was smuggling into this country. He did not want to share the profits, you see."

"And you figured since you were partners in the gallery, you should be partners in the gun business, too. Except . . ." Another light went on, this time inside my head. "You weren't partners in the gallery. You were the one who trashed the place looking for the disc, and when you didn't find it, Beyla had to come back to look."

"Very good." Yuri's smile was anything but friendly.

"And Tyler, he said something once about how now that Drago was dead, the gallery was closed up. I should have known right then and there. He didn't just mean it was closed for the day. He meant it was closed for good, and that means that you and Drago were never partners. You were trying to take over his turf in the gun-smuggling business. You and Beyla."

"If only you had put as much thought into your silly investigation as you are now. Then, perhaps, you would not have trusted me so much. But you didn't. And now . . ." Yuri had the nerve to shrug, like we were discussing something no more important than the weather. "When the police find your bodies here, they will be baffled, yes?"

Other books

I'm in Love With a Stripper by Michelle Marola
DangerousLust by Lila Dubois
Her Royal Spyness by Rhys Bowen
A Woman Without Lies by Elizabeth Lowell
A 1980s Childhood by Michael A. Johnson
Money from Holme by Michael Innes
Keeping it Real by Annie Dalton