“Why should I give over the goods before I’ve gotten my payment?”

“At this point, you should hand them over before I have to wrest them from your dead fingers.”

“You wouldn’t kill me, my boy.” But for the first time, Cosmo didn’t sound quite so blissfully sure of himself. “Didn’t they send you with my money?”

“They sent me with a gun, Cosmo.”

“But I always thought you liked me, my boy.”

“Yeah, well, given a choice, I like myself a whole lot better.” Mickey disobeyed all the traffic barrels and drove through a tight opening in a cement barricade onto the hotel construction site. A flick of his wrist dimmed the headlights, and the car eased forward, guided by an amber glow. He wove through heavy machinery before drawing to a stop near a large crane and a row of giant concrete tubes.

Hopefully, Cosmo’s silence meant he understood the severity of his situation. “Well?” Mickey cut the engine.

“Killing me will do you no good. I don’t have them on me.”

From his inside breast pocket Mickey withdrew a pair of leather driving gloves and took his time pulling them over his calm fingers. Unnerving his prey-this he knew how to do. “But you’ll tell me where you’ve stashed them.”

“You can’t force me.” The first trace of fear glimmered in the magician’s eyes, and he clutched the rabbit to his chest.

Mickey cocked a brow. “Come on, Cosmo. Like it wouldn’t be a bonus for me to shoot the rabbit first?”

As if he understood, Edgar tried to burrow into Cosmo’s tuxedo jacket.

“I don’t need to force you,” Mickey continued smoothly. “You’ll talk, because tonight, old man, you’re going to do a final disappearing act. And if you don’t tell me where those jewels are before you do, I’m going to pay a visit to your daughter Iris.” Mickey withdrew a gun from his shoulder holster and checked the empty chamber. “And when I’m done with her, I’ll visit your other two daughters.”