“Ohannes is certainly naïve, but we don’t know what kind of bond he had with Blackwood. He might have been the old boy’s numero uno.”
“I know that Pretty Boy wants to rescue Blackwood, and I hope the monks can talk him out of it.”
Iker peeked into the suite. Ohannes was putting on a pair of black stone earrings shaped like stars. The willowy young man ran his finger over a pair of glimmering golden cufflinks. A black stone carved in the shape of a letter G adorned one cufflink and a letter B adorned the other.
“Put ‘em in your carrying bag and let’s scat,” Iker commanded. “We ain’t got all day to traipse down memory lane, Babycakes.”