Kipler sat next to Maddox flipping his own take-out ticket between his fingers. 'Did Ms. Browning tell you what she and Celia spoke about?'
'You don't know?'
'No.'
Maddox shook his head. 'Me, either.'
Kipler loosened his tie. 'I thought you didn't know Ms. Browning, Just some tourist, you said.'
'She is.'
'Rather pretty one '
Maddox slanted a look at him. 'Chuck. I think I liked it better when we weren't sitting around having heart- tollerts.'
The cashier announced the arrival of Maddox's order. He waggled the ticket at Kipler and went to pay for the food.
He probably should have asked Iris if she minded an impromptu lunch date, but he was afraid she'd say no. For a woman who looked like a delicate flower most of the time, she had a stubborn streak as wide as the Mississippi. She didn't like to be treated as if she were fragile.
He respected that attitude, but he was also afraid that she was pushing herself too hard. She'd gone through a lot in the past two days, trying to help her missing friend. She needed to take some time to take care of herself.
The elevator doors opened on the fourth floor and he exited, balancing the take-out boxes, which were beginning to tilt. With his attention focused on the boxes, he was several steps down the hall before he looked up. He froze, his mind shifting gears too slowly.
Iris was struggling with the bearded man a few yards away.
Maddox dropped the boxes to the floor and raced toward them, anger bubbling up in his gut. 'Quinn!'
Quinn let go of Iris and started running for the stairs. Iris ran to Maddox, flinging herself into his arms. He could feel the triple-time cadence of her heartbeat against his chest.
'It's okay. Iris. I've got you.' He cradled her face between his hands. 'You okay? He didn't hurt you?'
'I'm okay.' She let go of him and stepped back, taking a couple of long, trembling breaths.
'Did he say anything to you?'
She shook her head. 'Just to be quiet and go into my room with him. I couldn't let him get me in there.'
Maddox gazed past her toward the stairway exit, his eyes narrowed. 'Iris, lock yourself in your room. Don't let anyone in but me.' He released her and started toward the stairs.
'What are you doing?'
'Just lock yourself in your room!' He raced for the stairs, easing the door open and stepping inside the stairwell. He paused at the top landing, listening for sounds.
Quinn would expect him to follow. The obvious choice would be to head down the stairs toward an exit. But Quinn was anything but obvious. What was his game? Obviously he wanted something from Iris-was it connected to the conference?
If Maddox was right about Tahir Mahmoud, Quinn would definitely want to know why an al-Adar terrorist with a lot of innocent American blood on his hands was attending a psychics' conference in Mariposa. But what did that have to do with Iris? Why her?
Maddox started up the steps to the next floor. He turned at the landing and faltered to a stop.
Quinn stood at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall. 'I was wondering if you'd drag yourself away from her long enough to follow.'
'What do you want from her?'
'You know I can't tell you that'
'You think I'd burn you?' Maddox glared at him. 'Man, you don't know me at all.'
'I think you'd keep her from doing what I need her to do' Quinn started down the steps toward him,
'I won't let you hurt her.'
'I don't intend to hurt her.'
'You never do.'
Quinn's hazel eyes hardened. 'Don't get in my way.'
Maddox blocked him from passing. 'Or what?'
Quinn launched himself from the third step, slamming Maddox backward into the wall of the stairwell. His head hit the concrete block wall with a crack, blackening his vision for a second. Quinn followed his advantage with two quick, hammer like jabs to Maddox's gut, knocking the wind out of him.
Quinn grabbed his arm and whirled him around, slamming him face-first into the wall. Maddox's knee twisted, hot agony sparking up his leg to join the symphony of pain. Gritting his teeth, Maddox focused on the sound of Quinn's rapid breathing, trying to anticipate the next blow.
The second he felt it coming, he threw back his head, his skull connecting with Quinn's face. A grunt escaped Quinn's throat.
Maddox whirled around, ignoring the throbbing in his knee, and drove his body into Quinn's, hurling them both against the stairs. He landed a couple of punches to Quinn's gut and jaw before Quinn lashed out with a vicious kick that caught him in the groin.
Pain exploded in his pelvis and rocketed up his gut, sending nausea coursing through him. He dropped to his knees, the ache in his twisted knee racing up his leg. He managed to lift his head and found himself staring down the barrel of a 9 mm Beretta.
'You can't win this' Quinn wiped blood from his battered nose and steadied the Beretta.
Maddox glared at him, trying to catch his breath.
'I want you to go home and forget you ever met a woman named Iris Browning, Do you understand?'
Maddox's profane response made Quinn's lips curve.
'I was afraid you'd be that way.' Quinn said. He put the Beretta's barrel against Maddox's forehead. 'Turn around and face the wall. Stay on your knees.'
Maddox did what Quinn told him, his heart racing. 'You're not going to kill me.'
'Why would I kill you?' Quinn asked.
Then Maddox's world exploded into blackness.
Iris watched the hands of her travel alarm clock click forward another minute. Twelve-fifteen. Maddox had been gone almost ten minutes. Where was he? Was he okay?
The hotel room doorknob rattled softly, drawing her gaze to the door. She heard the soft snick of the lock disengage. Her heart pounding, she looked at the safety latch at the top of the door. She hadn't engaged it, she realized, panicking her insides.
She pushed to her feet, her legs slow and uncooperative. She couldn't draw a deep breath, her brain turning to sludge as she tried to figure out what to do, where she could hide. The balcony. She scrambled over the bed and raced for the brass doors to the balcony.
'Stay where you are.' The gravelly voice of the bearded man sliced through the haze of fear, drawing her to a halt.
She turned slowly to face him, what was left of her breath escaping in a soft gasp. He was disheveled, his shirt torn at the shoulder and blood streaking his nose and chin. Obviously, he'd been in a fight. And if he'd come out the winner-
'What did you do to Maddox?' she asked, her voice raspy with fear
'He'll live.' He spoke with a flat, neutral American accent now, all traces of his earlier clipped tones gone,
'What do you want with me?'
The bearded man turned and started to close the door behind him. But it flew open, knocking him backward into the dresser.
Maddox stumbled into the room, bruises and scrapes covering his face and arms. He lurched at the bearded man, grabbing the man by both arms and hauling him face-first down onto the bed.
Iris backed up against the balcony doors, her pulse loud and fast in her head. Pain zigzagged through her, setting off little knots of agony all over her body. Her head. Her nose. Her knee. Her stomach and groin. Both men had taken a beating, and she could feel every bit of it.
