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“Manny,” she said, and the name stopped Maddie cold.
    Manny had been one of Rick’s grunt men, young and built, and Leena had gone out with him once. After their date, he’d come on to her strong, wanting sex. Leena hadn’t been ready. She’d refused him anything but a quick kiss, but Manny hadn’t been happy with that and tried for more. Leena’d shoved free of him, and he’d fallen down the stairs.
    And died.
    That was Leena’s story.
    Unfortunately, Rick had another one because Manny had been found with a knife wound in his gut. Back then, Rick had cleaned up that mess, but it wouldn’t stay clean.
    “If I stay gone,” Leena said, “Rick’s going to bring me up on murder charges.”
    Which would affect them both. “Okay, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
    “Ohmigod.” Leena shook her head. “I’m really doing this.”
    “Yes.” Maddie thought of Brody, hopefully on his wild-goose chase after her PT. “But we need to move up the timetable to, like, now.”
    “We can’t. I have someone I want to say good-bye to first. In New Orleans.”
    “Now?” Leena shook her head. “New Orleans? Who’s in New Orleans—”
    “Ben.”
    Now it was Maddie’s turn to shake her head. “Leena, no. We can’t do good-byes. We have to leave. Now.”
    “No.” Leena’s chin was set. Never a good thing. “I’m sorry, Mad, but I’m not like you, all tough and impenetrable, letting nothing get to me. I have to say good-bye.”
    Is that how Leena saw her? Really? Tough? Impenetrable? Cold? Is that how Brody would see her when she was gone? “I let plenty get to me. I just don’t let any of it rule me. You have to be strong.”
    “No one’s as strong as you.”
    “You are, and I’ll prove it to you. Wait right here.” With a calm she didn’t feel, Maddie raced up the stairs. In the master bedroom, she went to the dresser that she’d commandeered as her own for her stay. Specifically, the underwear drawer. Beneath all the silk and lace that was her own vanity-vice, past the gun she kept there, sat a small jewelry box.
    The only thing she had of their mother’s.
    It was wooden, intricately carved, and Russian, and she carried it with her because it gave her comfort. Supposedly, her mother’s mother’s mother had brought it over when she’d first come to the States. Inside was a string of pearls and a three-by-five picture of twin four-year-olds—Maddie and Leena, dressed for Halloween, wearing Batman and Robin costumes.
    Superheroes.
    They were grinning for the camera, arms slung around each other, their world as wide open in front of them as the gap in their mouths where their front teeth had been.
    Maddie ran her thumb over the photo, her wistful smile fading. It’d been shortly after this picture had been taken that their mother had left them, just walked away to go after her dream of riches and fame in Hollywood rather than see her own children grow up. Rumor had it she’d made it only as far as one of the strip clubs in Miami.
    Maddie and Leena had been raised on Stone Cay, a private Bahama island, in a huge, luxurious compound that made up their father’s family heritage. Family being a loose term, of course. Their father had been with them until Maddie’s and Leena’s eighth birthday, when he’d died of a heart attack after a fight with his brother over how to run a portion of their import-export gem business, the illegal portion.
    Maddie and Leena had grown up in the lap of decadence and luxury, but they’d also grown up quickly. Classic poor little rich girls, one twin with an aptitude for survival skills and one gifted with a genius for jewelry design.
    Leena.
    After that little talent had been discovered by Uncle Rick, they’d pulled Leena into the business almost nonchalantly—oh, here, Leena, an important client wants to buy this million dollar gem from us, please design a piece for it. Then Uncle Rick would swap the gem out for a replica, sell the designed