Celebration by Ella Ardent Page B

“Not that. Even though those were the rules.”
    The Count roared into his pillow in frustration, struggling to spit it out but not succeeding.
    Rex put the camera into his inside jacket pocket, then leaned on the back of the opposite couch. “Turns out I lied. We were only going to stay until you lost the game and I got my pictures.” He snapped his fingers. “They want to have another show of my photographs at the Eye of the Storm Gallery, by the way. You might want to keep an eye on that.”
    He turned to walk away just as the Count finally managed to spit out the cushion.
    “How will I know that you’ll keep your word?” he shouted.
    “You’ll just have to trust me,” Rex said with a smile.
    The hooded man laughed a little, then followed Rex.
    “You can’t leave me like this!” the Count roared.
    “Actually, we can, but it’s not hopeless.” The hooded man gestured to the house at large. “I hid the key for the handcuffs on our way in.” He nodded confidentially. “You’ll want to get them off soon.”
    “You can believe that.” The Count was scanning the room, looking for a likely hiding place.
    “What my friend isn’t telling you is that he delayed the alarm notification on your system by thirty minutes.”
    “Cool trick I learned in jail,” the other man said with a smile.
    “Jail?” The Count was wondering what other souvenirs that man might have from his incarceration. “You mean it’s going to alert the authorities?”
    Both men smiled.
    Of course. That’s what the system was programmed to do. The alarm company would call first. He looked and saw that the phone jack had been ripped off the wall. He wouldn’t be able to answer the phone and keep the police from breaking down the door.
    They’d find him like this.
    The Count looked at the clock on the mantle in terror. “But you’ve been here almost that long.
    “Twenty seven minutes actually,” the hooded man said.
    Rex nodded. “Which is why it’s time to go.” He waved. “Thanks for the champagne, and the insurance. Have a good life.”
    They turned to leave, but the Count didn’t care. Where could they hide a key? Could he find it in time? Were all the phones disconnected? Were was his cell phone, and the number for the alarm company?
    He didn’t have enough time.
    He was terrified to be found like this, handcuffed and alone in his own home. It was a violation of the image he worked so hard to project. The Count hadn’t really needed an incentive to look for the key, but he had one anyway. He started to nudge boxes from the mantle and pulled out table drawers with his feet, his heart racing as the minutes ticked away. He was sweating in terror, his heart racing so fast that he thought he’d have a heart attack. He wanted vengeance on Rex and on his partner-in-crime, a long nasty vengeance that would teach them both not to mess with him...
    The Count had a thousand violent thoughts by the time he found the key in the letter holder on the table in foyer. He was trying to get it into the lock just as the alarm began to ring. The phone rang, somewhere in the house. The Count threw the cuffs down and ran after the sound, discovering that there was still a working phone in the kitchen. He was out of breath and still naked when he answered.
    He gave the password but hesitated at their question. As much as he wanted to get even, he knew that if he set the police after Rex and his accomplice, he might have another visit like this one, and he wasn’t getting any younger.
    Plus Rex had those photos.
    “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” he said to the operator. “I heard something break and I hit the panic button, but it turns out it’s just that silly cat of mine. She broke another lamp. I do apologize for my mistake.”
    “That’s no trouble, Mr. Rossini. It happens all the time. We’ll cancel the alarm, and you’ll need to reset the panel.”
    “Of course.”
    “Please be sure to let us know if there’s anything else we