The rap of knuckles on wood made Jem glance over.
Stephen stood in the doorway.He slouched against the jamb, arms folded across his chest.“You’ve got something that belongs to me,” he said and stepped inside.The door swung shut behind him, and the lock set itself with a click.“I want it back now.”
30
Jem got to his feet and put himself between Tean and Stephen.
The sandy-haired man watched him, but he didn’t move from where he stood blocking the door.
“How did you get in here?”Tean asked.“Vaughan said he deactivated your key.”
“Housekeeping can get pretty lax on the third day of a snow-in,” Stephen said.“Put the papers back in the bag.Then toss them over here.”
Jem didn’t answer.He studied the other man.Blue-gray eyes stared back at him.Stephen flashed a sliver of that perfect smile.
And then the recognition that had been nagging at Jem broke the surface.
“You were in the bar,” Jem said.
Stephen didn’t say anything.
“In Afterski.The first night.You bumped into me.”Jem laughed.“That was a good lift.”
Still nothing.
“Seriously?”Jem said.“You’re not going to say anything?I can’t tell you the last time somebody lifted my wallet and got away with it.You should be doing a victory lap.”
Now Stephen smiled again.Dry.Hard.Amused in a way that looked almost cruel.
“Something funny?”Jem asked.
“You have no idea.”Stephen’s gaze shifted to Tean.“The papers.Now.”
“I don’t think so,” Jem said.“I think we’re going to hold on to those until the sheriff gets here.You’ll have a lot of fun explaining where you got them and why you have them.And I bet it’ll get even more fun when they tie you to this dummy LLC and these accounts.What happened?Why’d you have to get rid of Gerald?”
“Put the papers in the bag,” Stephen said again with that same unruffled calm.“And give them to me.I’m going to count to three.”
“Jem,” Tean said.
“We’re good, Tean,” Jem said.“Not going to be a problem.”He rolled his shoulders.The addie was sparking its way through him.It was like all the lights on a carnival midway flicking to life.Like somebody switched on the juice, and a bright string was running from his fingertips all the way to his brain.“Do you want me to tell you what I think happened?”
“One,” Stephen said.He was solidly built—not a big guy, not a meathead, but he had broad shoulders, a defined chest.Some of that was good genes.Some of it was probably hard work.He probably thought he was the shit, and in Jem’s experience, guys who thought they were the shit didn’t understand how the real world worked.
Jem shifted his weight, easy, still testing.“I think Sawyer told Gerald that you’re full of shit.And Gerald didn’t like that.Gerald wanted to talk to you.Gerald started asking about the money.”
“Two,” Stephen said.He dropped his arms to his sides.His hands hung open and loose.
“And once Gerald started asking questions, you didn’t have any choice, did you?You had to get rid of him.So, you told your partner how things were going to go down.And you made sure you set Tafton up so he’d take the fall when you were done.That’s why you made sure he wasn’t with the other guys that night, isn’t it?
“Three,” Stephen said.
He didn’t rush.He came forward at a walk, hands still loose at his sides.
Mattress springs creaked as Tean scrambled to his feet, but Jem barely noticed.His attention was on Stephen: the way the man carried himself, the way he set his feet, where he put his eyes.He’d push past Jem, maybe shove him, basic intimidation.
Jem drew his hand out of his pocket and snapped his wrist.The antenna telescoped out to its full length, and he whipped it at Stephen’s face.
Throw anything at somebody’s face, and the odds were that they’d flinch.Slice something through the air so fast that they barely have time to blink—well, not only would they flinch, but odds were that they’d be too late.
