glow through the colors of the stained glass.
Barrie looked around her in the dark, and even though she knew it was mostly her imagination, she felt a chill, a dark heaviness to the air. Did Tiger die here? Tiger and Mayo both? What intruder was here with them?
Mick moved forward slowly, stepping silently on the luxurious rugs. “Feel anything?” he asked her, his voice low and tense. She was unnerved, wondering what he could possibly mean.
“Creepy,” she said softly, surprising herself.
“Yeah,” he answered, and moved into the bedroom. She stood for a moment in the pools of red and blue and amber light, and then followed him.
The bed, like the one in the other suite, was four-poster, but this one was massive, with heavy and intricately carved posts, and the window screens were covered with iron filigree. There were standing candelabra lined up beside the bed; the whole setup had a medieval look that gave Barrie another shiver. Tiger, what did you get yourself into? she thought, her heart wrenching with sorrow. And then she felt a surge of blistering anger at the middle-aged mogul who had deliberately, maliciously brought a teenage boy into this kind of gilded prison to use for his narcissistic pleasures.
“The Prince of Darkness,” Mick said, his voice taut, almost as if he’d heard her thoughts, and Barrie heard the same strange bitterness in his voice that she’d noticed when he spoke of Mayo in the newsroom.
Why is that? she wondered. And what does he think he’s going to find here that the cops wouldn’t have already taken away?
Even as she thought it, Mick pulled something dark and metallic from his jacket pocket. Barrie’s heart constricted in fear.
Oh, my God...a gun....
And then she went limp as she realized it was a small flashlight.
He turned it on and shielded the beam with his hand to keep the light away from the windows, then stepped to the bed where he ran the flashlight beam up the post closest to him.
Barrie watched, mystified. Mick stopped the light on the wooden post about a foot above the mattress and leaned in to examine the wood. She could see by the tightening of his body that he’d found whatever it was he was looking for.
“What is it?” she said, and heard her voice quaver.
He moved abruptly back and strode around to her side of the bed. She backed away to let him pass. He trained the light on the other post, at the same level as he had before, and once again she saw the change in his body language.
He looked at her and nodded toward the post, holding the flashlight steady, and she stepped warily in beside him to look.
She saw scratches in the post, light marks where the wood had been scraped.
“What...?” she started, and then she had a sinking feeling she understood.
“Handcuffs,” Mick said tightly.
“What does that...?”
“It means he did have a kid here with him. The scratches are fresh, and the evidence fits with Mayo’s... proclivities.”
Barrie was opening her mouth to demand how he knew, when suddenly they both froze at the sound of the door opening in the outer room.
A male voice called from the living room, “Who’s in here?”
Mick killed the flashlight and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the closet. He silently hustled her inside, edging the door closed behind them. The closet was large, empty except for two plush terry-cloth spa robes hanging from the bar, an ironing board clipped to a rack and a shelf of spare pillows and blankets. He pulled her back against the wall and up against his side, behind the robes. Not enough cover by any means; if whoever was outside opened the closet door they would be discovered.
Barrie’s heart was pounding, and she could feel Mick’s heart beating the same fast tattoo beside her. He still had hold of her hand and even through her fear she was wildly aware of his body against hers, long, hard muscles and a faint musky cologne that only enhanced his purely intoxicating male scent. Barrie was faint with terror, adrenaline and a sudden, unwanted desire.
Footsteps approached on the hardwood floor. Whoever had been outside was in the bedroom now. A crack of light suddenly appeared under the closet door.
Barrie’s eyes widened, and Mick put his fingers over her mouth, locking his eyes on hers, willing her to be still.
Whoever was outside was silent, but she could feel his presence, hovering...and at the same time she was roiling inside from the