She braced her forehead against her palm.
“You’re so damn independent.” He scowled. “I didn’t think my schedule would be a problem. You know, Meredith worked nine to five. If I had to work late, she went out with her girlfriends.”
Her hand slammed the steering wheel. “Excuse me? You’re comparing me to your ex-wife? Who you cheated on me with?” Outrage sputtered through her mind. Her mouth dropped open and her whole body pivoted toward him. “Stop. Right there. I am not Meredith.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”
“Stupid? You’re a homicide detective. That kind of comment gets you stabbed.”
She took a deep breath. Meredith, the cheating, his marriage. It was all in the past.
Her head dropped against the seat. “This is crazy.”
He brushed a finger over her cheek. “I think we’re both frustrated. We’re used to focusing on our careers. It’s been a long time since I cared enough about a woman to consider her schedule. Much less, her feelings.”
Holly pushed his hand away. “Or considered what’s important to her. What’s involved in her job. Dammit JC, you do this. You turn the conversation in a direction that gets you off the hook. Do you even realize you do it?”
He withdrew his hand and folded his arms. “What are you talking about?”
“Do you know what my degree is in, much less what I actually deal with on a daily basis?”
He gave her an annoyed glare. “You have a Masters in Accounting. And didn’t I just acknowledge that you work hard at what you do?”
“You only know that degree because it’s what I studied in college. I also have an MBA and a bunch of professional designations. I worked my way to the top of my field. I busted my ass to get there. I handled million and billion dollar deals that impacted thousands of people. I was sought after for my technical skills and I’ve tried my damnedest to bring that experience to my clients here in the Tri-Cities.”
His eyes widened and some of the anger left his posture. “I may not be good at saying it, but I respect you. I respect what you do. If you want us to share more of what we do on a daily basis, I’ll tell you what I can. But if what we—law enforcement—are doing, who we’re looking at, or evidence we deliberately withheld from the public gets out.” He shook his head. “Witnesses. Suspects. It could ruin the entire case.”
She kept her voice equally cool. “I’m not asking you to betray confidences. I know you can’t discuss an ongoing investigation. I have similar constraints. If confidential client information gets out, it could ruin that client and I could lose my license.”
“Then we better find other things to talk about besides work.”
“We have a history and we’ve got chemistry—”
“Yeah, at least there’s that,” he muttered.
Excuse me? Apparently her incredulous expression was clearly visible.
“You’re right. A lot has changed.” He stopped and seemed to be thinking about it. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have to get back. Find out if this asshole played let’s make a deal.”
Or was work just an excuse to avoid this conversation?
“I better get back to the office too,” she said. “Rick and I have a bunch of yearend planning to do. You know, help a few companies stay in business so their employees get paychecks.”
“Right.” He shifted in the seat to face her. “This is lousy timing, but there’s one more thing I want to talk to you about.”
Something in his tone—so small he probably didn’t realize he’d given it away—automatically made her tense. This wasn’t his overt irritation about job disclosures. This was personal.
Not a good sign.
She braced herself. “Oh?”
“Thanksgiving is coming up. My mother’s gearing up for it.”
Holly had always adored his mom, Athena. “And?”
“She wants the whole family together. And I mean the whole family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, all my brothers and sisters.”
“Even the ones who escaped eastern Washington?” Holly smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.
He ignored that. “And you.”
His warm brown eyes studied her, as if gauging her reaction.
She took a slow breath as the implications sank in. Meeting the whole family. Again.
Family holidays. She’d gone to those meals when she was in college and engaged to him. But she’d chosen a different road than her high school friends. Most of them had married and moved into houses in the same zip code as their parents.
Clearly, he’d told Athena they were dating again. Holly chose not to ask precisely what he’d told his mother.
“My mom will be alone if I’m not there,” she said.
“Bring her along.”
Holly pulled in another deep breath. The invitation—especially including her mother—implied something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.
Even after he just suggested they get married.
But wasn’t that where they were headed? Or at least leaving the door open for the possibility, if they could sort out how to make it happen?
“Let me think about it,” she said. “I’ll let you know on Friday.”
“Okay.” He leaned across and gave her a kiss that made her forget the half-eaten burrito and any relationship challenges. “Think about that too.”
He climbed out of the car, then leaned down and met her gaze. “I do respect you.”
She watched him as he cleared security and took the stairs two at a time.
With his holiday invitation, he’d implied a level of seriousness in their relationship—one they hadn’t achieved in reality. And he’d avoided dealing with their relationship problems in the first place.
“Actions, JC. Not words. Actions.”
Chapter Twelve
Undercover Angel (Alan Day)
Tuesday afternoon, Holly pushed open the door to the Tom Tom Casino. The Vegas flash—lots of fluorescent lighting, cheesy casino-themed wallpaper and industrial-grade plaid carpeting—didn’t seem quite as appalling as usual. Hopefully, that meant she was learning to ignore it rather than letting it grow on her.
Unlike the Tom Tom Two in Pasco, the Kennewick-based operation separated its business office from the secured vault area. She angled across the main floor, bypassed the flashing, pinging slot machines, and entered the office cluster. A few casino employees glanced up, acknowledging her presence. She’d met most of them in her dealings with Peter Ayers, the casino’s manager.
Peter waved from his office and pointed at the phone he had pressed to his ear. Taking that to mean he was tied up, her gaze slid to the adjacent office. Thankfully, Frank wasn’t inside it.
With a relieved smile, she scanned the area for the Desert Accounting audit staff. As usual, Amanda and crew had spent the week of the audit here at the client’s location, which was normally more convenient for everyone.
The casino as a work site? Well, other than the Frank factor…
She found Amanda in one of the cubicles, peering at her laptop.
“How’s it going?” Holly asked.
“Great.” Amanda turned away from her computer. “The casino management runs a tight operation.”
“Always good to hear. What—”
“Before I forget, Frank heard you were coming in this afternoon. He wants to see you.” Amanda grinned. “You have a thing for tall, dark and handsome, don’t you?”
Holly controlled the instinctive flinch. “Excuse me?”
A blush pinked Amanda’s cheeks. “That detective? The one who was hanging around the office a while ago? Definitely in that category. And clearly Frank’s interested in you.”
No way was she discussing her personal life—especially given how messed up it was right now—with her staff. “If you’re interested in Frank, be careful. He’s been known to obsess about women. Now, what did you need to discuss with me?”
Amanda’s mouth opened and the
n clicked shut as the blush deepened. She swiveled toward her laptop and opened a new screen. “These are the new audit requirements. I wanted to make sure you were good with the approach we took in testing.”
Thirty minutes later, Holly said, “Okay, we’re clear? Make sure you document those new procedures. Good job with this.”
“Thanks. We should wrap up the job this week.”
“Call if you need me, but you know what you’re doing here.” Holly picked up her purse and rose.
“Aren’t you going to talk to Frank?” Amanda cocked her head, curiosity obvious in her eyes.
Not unless I can’t avoid him.
“I may see him on the way out.” Holly stepped from the office cluster and headed across the casino’s lobby.
She’d almost made it to the door when a voice behind her called, “Holly. Wait up.”
Damn. So close to escaping.
Frank’s voice still made her freeze. Gritting her teeth, she turned. “Hi, Frank. What’s up?”
His ever-present cowboy hat shaded his features. “I need to talk to you about...a matter.”
Oh, let’s be cryptic. She stayed still, her outstretched hand resting on the exit door. “About...?”
He glanced around the lobby at the scattered patrons. “It’s private.”
Bad memories hit her like a tidal wave. Frank stopping to “talk” at her Seattle office. The rapid escalation to stalking.
Her tone hardened. “We have nothing private to discuss.”
“I meant confidential.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is this why you were at the hospital? Did you come to see me or Shaw?” Are you following me again?
“It’s not like that.” Color climbed his neck and stained his tanned cheeks. “Like what you’re thinking. Amanda told me yesterday you were headed to the hospital.”
Note to self—tell Amanda not to give out any personal details.
He tugged off his hat and scraped his fingers through his hair. “This is something different. I thought if I caught you outside the office, it wouldn’t be as awkward.”
Holly drew in a deep breath. “What is it?”
“This isn’t easy for me, either.”
His tone was brusque, but he didn’t pull on the hard expression she called a cop face. For one second, she almost felt sorry for him. He’d lost his job, his home... Her jaw tightened. Every bit of it was his own fault.
“Just hear me out. Five minutes.”
He had helped her at the Boulder Bounders event, which he was smart enough not to mention.
She gave one short nod. “Five minutes.”
“This way.” He led her to a private room. Two guys stood beyond a small conference table beside a frosted glass window. They turned when the door opened. One was dressed casually in jeans and a hoodie. Work boots and hat hair completed his workingman appearance. The other man looked...average—khaki slacks, a wool shirt with the sleeves rolled up over firm forearms. Average height, more athletic than the usual office worker.
On second glance, however, an oversized ego rippled around him like an aura. Everything about him screamed, “cop.”
As if she didn’t have enough of that in her life already.
The guy crossed his arms. His lips thinned as he gave her a head-to-toe inspection that dismissed her as inadequate.
Damn, but she hated men who assessed women’s roles and worth based on their looks.
What did Frank want to discuss, especially in front of these men? Somehow, she didn’t think he expected her to do their tax returns.
A dozen possibilities rippled through her mind, but none of the potential problems required her input. Given the size of the ego aura, she guessed the cop was some kind of fed rather than a state or local one. If they were investigating a crime at the casino, especially a non-financial issue, it wouldn’t involve her. Any problems with the casino itself would bring in the gaming commission.
She tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow at Frank. Get on with it or I’m leaving.
“Special Agents Penick and Lawson.” He pointed to the respective person. No one offered to shake hands and no one sat down.
Which agency? If this had something to do with the casino—it certainly gave off that vibe—and involved her, then they were probably state agents rather than feds. The casinos were regulated by agreements between the Tribal gaming agencies and the Washington State Gambling Commission.
“The cage accountability,” she began.
“Not that kind of agent.” Frank cut her off.
“Okay.” She closed her mouth and waited. Patient Professional here.
“We’re with the DEA.” Special Agent Penick, Mr. Average Guy, took control. “While we rarely take on long term undercover assignments, Special Agent Lawson”—he nodded at the hat-hair guy—”is working with the regional Drug Task Force. You wouldn’t know, but the task force is a joint operation between Benton and Franklin counties, assisted by the three city police departments.”
Actually she did know.
“For an operation like this,” he continued, “I’m coordinating with the locals.”
From his tone, naturally he didn’t think the locals could possibly handle whatever he was in town managing.
“Locals, as in, local law enforcement,” she said. The well-trained, well-paid local departments that drew hundreds of applications whenever there was an opening.
Asshole.
She looked from Penick to Lawson before turning to Frank. So, something local was big enough to draw these two to the Tri-Cities. “Other than the obvious—they’re looking for drugs—I don’t see how I can help.”
Penick snorted. “I don’t either, but Mr. Phalen seems to think you’re some kind of numbers whiz.”
She controlled the urge to roll her eyes. She’d dealt with the chauvinistic type often enough during her merger and acquisition days. The kind who thought women could be intimidated or rattled with a power play or put-down. “And? You want me to wave my magic computer around and find your bad guys?”
Lawson coughed like he was covering a laugh, but a muscle twitched in Penick’s jaw. “This entire conversation has to be confidential. We need you to sign non-disclosure forms before we take this any further.” He stepped over to the conference table and whipped several papers from a folder.
She hitched her purse strap. “Am I here working with my client or are you hiring me?”
His jaw twitched again.
Didn’t like that, huh?
“We expect you to do your civic duty.”
Oh, please. “Guess what, I don’t work for free. Why haven’t you brought in your own people?”
Penick widened his stance, undoubtedly trying to make himself more imposing. “We need to keep this quiet. And we need an answer fast.”
“If I’m here at the casino’s request, any discussion would already be considered confidential.”
Penick rolled the forms into a tube and propped a hip on the conference table. She wondered if he’d decided to change tactics and thought the pose made him look casual or friendly. She glanced at Lawson, but he seemed content to stay in the background.
“Any discussion of what we do here could be a matter of life and death.” Penick pointed the roll of paper at her.
Overplaying much? Yes, drug dealing sucked, but that was the DEA’s mission. She heard about gang fights—read about them in the newspaper way after the fact—but other than illegal pot grows on federal land, eastern Washington wasn’t exactly in the same category as LA or other drug centers.
Frank cleared his throat. “You’re here at my request. Representing the casino.”
“We can’t order you to do this.” From Penick’s expression, that would be his first choice. “We’ll hire you as a consultant. I want your report under our agency.”
Her gaze traveled from man to man. “Look, I’m not in law enforcement.” She could imagine how JC would react if he found out she was even considering helping with a drug in
vestigation. And the whole Frank angle... She cut her gaze to him. JC would explode. “Would anything I uncovered even be admissible?”
“We’ll deal with that.” Penick tossed the forms on the table. “Just find the answer.”
“What’s the question? The backstory?” She cocked an eyebrow at the lead agent.
“That’s not relevant.”
She dumped her purse on the conference table. “Of course it is. What are they selling and why do you suspect the casino is involved?”
The agent crossed his arms and studied her for a long moment. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the opioid epidemic. In addition to the prescription abuse, there’s a tremendous black market for it. We’ve become aware there’s a new source of Fentanyl here. You may have heard about the deaths from it. Rumor”—Penick tilted his head toward Lawson—”has it distributing through this casino. We need more than rumor.”
She considered that. “I’ve read about overdoses in Ohio. I wasn’t aware Fentanyl was a problem in the Tri-Cities. As far as the casino goes, security cameras would pick up any overt sale of drugs. To involve me, you have to be focused on the cash.”
Plenty of cash floated around a casino, but the games were tightly regulated.
So what was he asking?
Possibilities flashed through her mind. Was he looking for information or problems her team had uncovered in the ongoing audit? Implying they’d missed something? Flushing drug money through the actual casino operations would definitely stand out, and Amanda wasn’t seeing that kind of manipulation.
It had to be money…
“The only non-controlled cash is the dealers’ tips,” she concluded.
Penick nodded, a new speculative light in his eyes. Apparently, he hadn’t expected her to figure that out. “Possible.”
She studied him. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were in here pretending to gamble but watching, trying to pick up how they’re covering the transactions. Someone here is selling, so you’re looking at cash going to a dealer. My second guess is you want me to tell you which dealer has unusual tips.”
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