Page 109 of Born for Starlight
I looked around at the audience. I was amazed at how monsters didn’t look like monsters. They looked like pharmacists, barbers, cops, baristas, and most likely politicians. But then again I’d never liked politicians.
A man in a tuxedo walked out onto the stage. All the whispers in the audience stopped. Not that there were many.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there is a slight delay in tonight’s event. Please bear with me. It is important that this be an evening of excellence, so this pause will only enhance everyone’s enjoyment.”
The audience nodded, and from my vantage point I could see some smiles. Costa walked over from the entrance and motioned for the MC to come to the edge of the stage and talk to him. Costa was sweaty, while the MC looked cool as a cucumber. It was obvious who was the performer. I didn’t know what was said, but it seemed to make Costa even sweatier. I wondered what in the hell Layla was doing backstage.
Costa turned to the audience.
“There will be more refreshments while you wait.” He snapped his fingers. I watched as Pedro came out from the left and was shocked to see Deke following him. What the hell? How had he found a waiter’s jacket? It must have been from Pedro, but how in the hell had those two hooked up?
I watched as the two of them talked to audience members and took down orders. I looked at Costa who was using his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off his upper lip. I looked down at my watch. It was now eight-thirty-one. Soon Pedro and Deke were out with trays of liquor.
As soon as the booze was passed out the MC came out again.
“I have good news for all of you. I have talked with the handler. She and I agree that the first lot that we have on offer is the finest we have ever seen. We just have a couple of more adjustments to make, and we will be able to make the presentation. I want to thank you for your patience, and assure you that you will find it rewarding.”
His voice was so smooth it made me sick.
I looked around. Costa was now standing to the left of the stage where he could easily communicate with both the MC and the servers. One of the guards, the lead guard I assumed, was standing with him. The other two, including the handsy one, were standing.
I looked at my watch. It was eight forty-one. I held up my hand and made a motion for Costa. I wanted to know when the Salgados were going to arrive. But what I really wanted to know was when Simon and the team were going to get here.
Costa passed one of the buyers, a distinguished-looking man in his sixties, and the man grabbed his arm.
“This delay is unacceptable. I expect professionalism when I come to one of these events. You need to start this auction immediately.” The man did not raise his voice, which made it all the more deadly. Three other people in the audience nodded. One said, ‘hear, hear.’
Costa began to explain and out of the corner of my eye I could see the entrance opening up. I looked over expecting to see Simon, but it wasn’t him. It was a man and woman, and four guards. It had to be the Salgados. Two of the guards hustled to where Costa was. Where the fuck was Simon and the team?
I heard something else.
Goddamn.
It came from backstage.
It wasn’t a child. Wait a minute, yes it was. At least I thought it was.
Yes. Yes it was. But it wasn’t a cry of distress.
It was something else. It was a murmur.
The MC. He hustled out from the wings.
“Just one more moment, Ladies and gentlemen.”
A woman from the audience stood up. “What’s the hold-up?” She didn’t sound distinguished. She sounded like she grew up hard. Like she came from one of the Brazilian slums, a favela. “I paid good money for this, and I don’t like to be kept waiting. You better get your ass in gear.” Yep, definitely the gutter slang from the favela.
“Madam, I beg just a little more of your patience,” the MC pleaded.
That’s when I heard it.
Two gunshots.
They came from backstage.
Jesus! Please say the girls are okay.
The door behind the Salgados and the two guards slammed open. Dammit, were they going to get away?
