bounced twice, then threw himself into the air, arcing over Waldo’s head, leaving the FBI agent no choice but to shoot him in the stomach with the second charge from his stun gun.
Riley’s head hit the floor with a thump, and in his dream the thump was Albert Garrick rapping him on the forehead with sharp knuckles during a lesson.
“Attention, son,” he said. “This is one of the basic principles of stage magic, which is the kind we are stuck with presently.”
They were on stage at the Orient, where Riley’s lessons were conducted. On these boards he studied fencing, marksmanship, strangulation, and poisons, as well as the more exotic skills of escapism and camouflage.
“Now, I pose the question again: Where is the guinea?”
Riley stared at the three cups on the boards where he knelt and hesitantly pointed to the center cup, already knowing that the coin would not be his.
“No, Riley,” said Garrick. “Though you were a step closer this time.” He lifted the cup on the left, revealing a shining coin beneath. “I gave your eyes the slip on the second-to-last switch with a tap of my nail on the center cup. Misdirection, you see? I sent you toward what was not there.”
I understand, thought Riley, wishing that somehow he could use misdirection to escape from Garrick.
Someday, I will send you somewhere that I have never been. And then I will give you the slip for good.
Chevie woke up with plasti-cuffs around her ankles and wrists securing her to the toilet. Her head throbbed with dull pain, and drops of blood plinked into a pool between her feet from the tip of her nose.
She was about to unleash a string of swear words when she noticed Riley in the bath, cuffed to the safety rail.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, the sentence’s final t stabbing her brain on its way out.
Waldo! That moron. I will shave him while he sleeps for this!
“No, miss,” said Riley. “Though that lightning rod knocked the stuffing out of me. These cuffs have me baffled. They are slimmer than a shoelace, but I can’t even get a stretch on ’em.”
Riley talked a little more about the cuffs and their fantastic strength, but Chevie zoned him out. What she needed was a moment or two of quiet time so her mind could settle down a bit after the Tasering Waldo had surprised her with.
I wasn’t expecting that. And how was it possible that Felix Smart had put out a Be On the Lookout for me on the network when he never made it back from the past?
Unless he did come back and holds me responsible for all the mayhem?
It didn’t sound likely or plausible.
Orange was with the hazmat team. He knows I didn’t kill them.
Riley was saying something. His tone was insistent, urgent even.
Chevie blinked the stars from her vision. “What? What is it, kid?”
“Your nose is bleeding, miss. Snort it up and hawk the lot out in one go. That’s the best thing for it.”
Snort it up and hawk it out.
Chevie did as she was told, spitting a ball of blood into the sink, and was surprised to find that the bleeding stopped immediately, though the snorting did make her head hurt a little more.
“Did Waldo shock you?”
“He did,” said Riley. “That electric pistol of his had me dancing the dotard’s jig on the floor. I woke just before you.”
“We need to get out of here, kid. You opened your cuffs back in Bedford Square. You got any more magic tricks down your sock?”
Riley glared at his own tethered wrists as though he could free them with mind power. “Not one, miss. How do you open a set of bracelets that don’t have no locks?”
You don’t was the answer to that question.
Chevie followed the logic of her train of thought, ignoring the waves of pain.
“Okay. We’re secured but safe. Waldo has the wrong end of the stick, but the cavalry are on the way, and we can clear things up when they get here. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. So long as we’re in this room, we stay alive.”
Riley frowned. “So this being trussed up like market fowl is a good thing?”
“In a way, yes.”
“No offense, miss, but maybe you being a female has clouded your judgment. If we dangle here for much longer, Garrick will slit our throats and watch us bleed. He won’t even need to mop up after me, for heaven’s sake, seeing as I am already in the tub.”
Chevie