Somebody sure had, and Suzi was gone.

“Beranger’s gallery is on Carlos Lopez Avenue, Galeria Viejo,” Dylan came back on the line. “He lives up on the second floor, so he shouldn’t be too hard to find. And I’ve got a confirmed location for one of the dealers short-listed by the DIA as a potential buyer for the Sphinx-Levi Asher. He’s at El Caribe.”

“Got it,” he said, pushing off the marble column and crossing the street to the parking lot.

“One more thing,” Dylan said.

“Yeah?”

“Suzi told Grant that Dax Killian was at the gallery this afternoon. Apparently there was a run-in with the police, and he got her out of there.”

Dax Killian?

“I don’t believe in coincidence, boss. What the fuck do you think is going on?”

“I don’t know, and Grant hasn’t been able to find out, so we’ll play it as it comes.”

“Roger that,” he said, heading back to his car. “I’ll let you know what I find at the gallery.”

Women, Levi thought.

There was just no telling what got into them sometimes. Suzi Toussi had looked a little murderous there, a state of affairs that was absolutely beyond his ability to comprehend.

Suzanna Toussi, ready to pounce on him-and not in a good way. Oh, no.

He hoped she bounced back to her normal, coolheaded self by tomorrow morning. It simply wouldn’t do to send a half-deranged woman up the river.

He shuffled around in his luxury suite, dropping clothes everywhere he went-his jacket in the hall, his tie on the table, a shoe here, a shoe there, his shirt over the back of the couch, his pants on the floor. He’d dismissed Gervais at the door. He felt terrible and simply needed to be alone.

He’d eaten too much, drunk too much, was too hot, feeling light-headed, and his stomach was in distress.

He padded into the bathroom to get a towel to mop his brow, and while leaning over the sink, took stock of himself.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he’d done a bad thing, involving her, and felt very remorseful. Not so much remorse that he would change the course of events, but he felt remorse.

Suzi would be fine, he told himself. It would be an adventure for her to go up the river and meet with this crazy dangerous man with the hot-crawly weapon who was not quite right.

Levi considered himself a very astute judge of people, and this man from Beranger’s who had grabbed Gervais, asked questions, and then invited them all up the river to get the Sphinx-well, he was quite dangerous.

Quite.

Big, strong, determined, fierce-Gervais had said the man’s arms were marked, scarred, and that there had been other scars on his face and neck.

Honestly, Levi had been in a perfect quandary. He wanted the Sphinx, or rather he wanted his Japanese buyer’s money for the Sphinx, but he didn’t care for the company of men under the best of circumstances, and he didn’t care for the company of dangerous men under any circumstances. He hadn’t known what he was going to do, until Suzi Toussi had called.

She was perfect.

The fifty-fifty part, the percentages could be manipulated later, if she actually made it back with the statue.

He reached up and combed his fingers through his hair, arranging it a bit. He wished he hadn’t mentioned that girl in Ukraine and her daughter again, poor little thing. He’d just been trying to be nice, but all that should have waited until after the deal. It wasn’t good to have Suzi upset. He needed her on her game. He needed an expert up there to deal with this man from Costa del Rey That’s the place where he’d told Gervais to come, Costa del Rey King’s Coast, and if the Memphis Sphinx was truly there, then it was a king’s coast indeed. Levi hadn’t come all this way to pay a million dollars for a fake, and Suzanna Royale Toussi could smell a fake from a hundred miles. She was so very talented, a superb negotiator, her instincts impeccable when it came to art and artifacts-but not when it came to men, and Levi didn’t think she’d done any better for herself this time.

“Danny Kane,” he muttered. Suzi always went for brawn instead of brains. It’s why she never went for him, though she’d come close tonight, up until she’d gotten so unreasonably upset.

But up until then, she’d definitely been on track for his bed.

He smiled at himself in the mirror-and something caught his eye and held his beady little orbs like they were in a vise. His smile froze in a moment of stark and utter terror, his lips stuck to his teeth, his arms trembling on either side of the sink.

A shadow, that’s what he’d thought, if he’d given the dark reflection in the mirror any thought at all, which he hadn’t-not until he’d smiled and the shadow had smiled back.

It was him, the crazy dangerous man from Costa del Rey in the suite’s living room, standing quietly against a wall, and for an odd, confusing second, Levi wondered if he’d walked right past him while he’d been taking off his clothes, not even aware that he hadn’t been alone.

“The woman,” the man said. He was big, just like Gervais had said, with short dark hair and very well defined features, chiseled, high cheekbones, a strong jaw, firm mouth, arms like pile drivers. “The redhead, Suzanna Toussi, where is she?”

Now, this was shameful, truly it was, but Levi didn’t hesitate for a second to give the girl away. There was no thought to it at all, let alone a second thought.

“I-I picked her up at th-the Po-po-po-”

“Posada Plaza?” the man asked.

“Y-yes.”

“Where is she now?” For a crazy man, his voice was very calm, very measured, and somehow, very reassuring.

“On h-her way back, I th-think, w-with a m-m-m-m-m-”

“Take a breath, Levi. Everything is fine.”

He did exactly as he was told. That was his new plan, to do everything exactly as he was told, to not cause this man any trouble, so he took a breath.

“A m-man,” he finished. “D-danny Kane, a repor-porter.”

“How well do you know her, Suzanna Toussi?”

Oh, God, a trick question. Levi’s panic skyrocketed again. He didn’t know what to say. If he didn’t know her very well, would the man leave? Or would it be best to admit that he did know her very well, and leave himself wide open for God only knew what?

He was frozen in indecision, nearly crushed senseless by the weight of the question. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake. The truth? Or a lie?

God, he shouldn’t have had so much champagne.

In the end, with the seconds ticking away and his indecision spiraling out of control, the heat and the booze and the fear got the best of him-and he crumpled in a faint to the floor.

“One dead body rotting in the heat,” Creed said into the phone, talking to Dylan. “The place was torn apart. No sign of any priceless statue, that’s for damn sure.”

“Who’s the body?”

“Remy Beranger,” Creed said, making a right-hand turn in the Jeep. “I checked his wallet. He’d been moved around a little since he died, and I moved him a little more, but I don’t think anybody really much cares about old Remy.”

“Why not?”

“Well, boss, he’s been there for a while, all day I’d say, and if the police did this, like Suzi told Grant, then I’d say nobody gives a hill of beans for this guy and his gallery.”

“So you think the statue is gone.”

“Hell and gone.”

“And who the hell has it?” Dylan asked.

Creed took the next left and shifted up into third. “I think we need to ask Suzi. I’m headed over to El Caribe and this Levi Asher guy, and if I come up empty-handed there, then we’ve got a real problem on our hands.”

“Suzi can handle herself.”

Creed wasn’t so sure, but he kept his mouth shut. Dylan had more faith in the girl than he did. Oh, he adored her, all right, but he had to say, despite Hawkins’s stellar success with Skeeter and Red Dog-okay, astounding success-Creed thought Superman had pushed his luck with Suzi. The girl was just too girly too hothouse orchid.