by Dobbs, L. A.
“You’re doing the best thing you can,” Liv said. “Blake will handle it. Don’t worry.”
“Easy for you to say.” He walked past the side table near the front door and noticed Alison’s phone still lying there. He picked it up and stared at the screen, now covered with missed call alerts from Faye. “Damn.”
He hit redial.
Faye answered on the second ring. “Where the hell are you, Al? I’ve been trying to reach you all night. People came to the casino asking about you and now I’m at your apartment and your bag’s still here, so you haven’t left town and—”
“Faye? It’s Owen.”
“Owen?” Her shock was evident in her tone. “Why do you have Alison’s phone? What’s going on?”
“Alison’s disappeared. She left her phone at my place when she took off.”
“But she doesn’t go anywhere without her phone.”
“I know.” He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall. “Listen, there are things about her you probably don’t know.”
“I know she’s my best friend and I’m worried.” A hint of anger joined the concern in her voice. “What more do I need to know?”
“That she’s a whistleblower, against some very powerful, very dangerous people. And she’s running for her life.”
Silence followed—long enough that Owen checked the phone to make sure they were still connected. “Faye? Are you still there?”
“I’m here.” Her words emerged quieter this time. “Jesus. I knew she was a math geek who can’t hold her liquor and that she snorts when she laughs, but I never suspected anything like this. I thought she was hiding from an abusive boyfriend or something.”
“The ‘or something’ part is right.”
“What are we going to do, Owen? We have to help her. She’s loyal to the bone and she’s stuck her neck out for me more times than I can count. I won’t let her face this alone.”
“Neither will I.” He pushed away from the wall, a new idea forming. “You said you’re at her apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“Great. Give me the directions and stay put. I’m coming over.”
He jotted down the address then ended the call. Looking up, he found two nosy cousins staring back at him. “I’ve got to go out. Liv can you watch Peaches until I get back?”
“Sure.”
“Need backup?” Blake watched him with a narrowed gaze.
“Nah, I got it.” Owen shoved his feet into a pair of shoes and grabbed his keys off the side table. “Just wish me luck.”
Fifteen minutes later, he swerved his sedan up to the curb in front of a sedate looking beige ranch house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Not exactly where he’d expect to find a math genius with a dark past, but then again, that was probably Alison’s plan.
That’s my smart girl.
As he climbed out of the car and walked toward the basement entrance where Faye waited, he couldn’t help but smile. Yep. Alison was his girl now. Maybe more, if she’d accept him into her life like he wanted to accept her into his.
And if they all survived this shitfest of a situation.
“Hey.” He waited while Faye unlocked the apartment door then walked inside. “You said people were asking for her at the Lucky Ace?”
“Yeah.” Faye turned to close the door behind them only to stop as a little old lady stood on the stoop with a foil-wrapped dish in her hands. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“I’m Ms. Baker, Alison’s landlord.” The woman looked between Owen and Faye, her expression wary. “Who are you two?”
“My name’s Owen Rockford, ma’am.” He plastered on his most polite smile and stepped forward to take the dish from the woman’s hands. “And this is Alison’s friend, Faye. We stopped by to speak with her, but she doesn’t seem to be home. Any ideas where she might be?”
“No. She keeps to herself most of the time.” Ms. Baker shook her head disapprovingly. “Such a sweet, pretty girl. I’ve told her over and over she needs to socialize more, find herself a good husband and settle down.” She eyed Owen up and down. “Are you single, Mr. Rockford?”
“I’m seeing someone. Alison, in fact.” He ignored the blatantly curious look on Faye’s face and ushered the older woman back out the door. “Thanks so much for stopping by.”
“Tell Alison to heat the chicken and dumplings I brought at three hundred seventy-five degrees for forty-five minutes and they’ll perk right up.”
“Will do.” Owen gave the landlady an appreciative smile. “So nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“And you, Mr. Rockford. That Alison’s a lucky girl to find a nice boy like you.”
“Thank you, ma’am. But I’m the lucky one.”
He waited until Ms. Baker disappeared back into her apartment upstairs then closed the door and shoved the dish of leftovers in the fridge before turning to Faye once more. “Okay, back to the people at the casino. Can you describe them?”
“There were two. A tough looking guy then later it was a dark-haired woman.”
“Notice anything remarkable or unusual about them?”
“You mean other than the fact they were looking for my best friend who’s the most private, isolated person in the world? No.”
“Great.” His tone suggested the exact opposite. “All right. Well, help me look around the place. Maybe we can find a clue about where she is or where she was planning to go after she left Vegas.”
A thorough search of the apartment, however, turned up nothing.
Frustrated, Owen headed back out into the living room. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket to see Blake’s face onscreen. Answering, he paced to burn off some excess energy. “Please tell me you found something.”
“Her story checks out. Heather Connors worked for Copernatech until just under a year ago. Alison’s picture from the casino footage matches the ID they had on file for her.”
“Okay, good. What else?”
Blake efficient tone turned less chipper. “One of my techs dug a little further into the situation and found one of the top executives from Copernatech landed at McCarran Airport three days ago.”
“They’re in Vegas? Shit.” His heart nosedived to somewhere near his toes. Alison was most definitely in danger. “Can you track the bastard?”
“Already got people on it.”
Owen ended the call and joined Faye in the kitchen. “That was Blake. He did some checking on Alison’s background. Her story about the pharmaceutical company checks out.”
“Like you didn’t think it would?” Faye crossed her arms and gave him a full-on resting bitchface look. “Some boyfriend you are.”
Before he could answer, his phone buzzed again, this time with a text.
The Neon Museum Boneyard. Midnight. Bring police.
If I miscalculated… Just know, I wanted to stay.
A
“Shit.” He squinted at the phone until the screen went black. The message could have come from Alison, or it could be a trick. Either way it was the only lead they had on her whereabouts.
“What?” Faye stepped in beside him and tapped the screen to look at the message. “Oh, my God. You have to help her.”
“What if it’s not from Alison.”
“What if it is?”
Owen took the phone back and pinged the message, his doubts only growing stronger when he discovered the message had originated from a less than savory part of town. The location was pretty far from his apartment and he couldn’t imagine Alison going someplace so dangerous alone, unless taken there against her will—or desperate. He quickly called Blake and relayed the information about the text and location. It was probably sent from a burner phone, but Blake could trace it since Owen’s phone messages went through Rockford Security servers.
Dammit. Faye was right. He couldn’t not show up. It might be his only chance to save the woman who’d suddenly become the most important person in his life. He shoved the device back in his pocket and heade
d for the door. “I need to go.”
“Wait.” Faye dogged his footsteps. “I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Don’t you have more important things to worry about than my schedule?”
Can’t argue with that one.
“Fine. Whatever.” Owen walked to his car while Faye locked up the apartment then joined him. “I can’t guarantee your safety though.”
“I can take care of myself, mister.” She slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. “Don’t worry about me. Where are we headed?”
He rattled off the address of the warehouse where Alison’s text had originated from. Odds were slim she’d still be there, but he had to check. “Sounds like they arrived three days ago with the sole intent of finding Alison.”
“Uh-oh.”
Less than five minutes later, they squealed to a stop outside an abandoned dump of a building. Owen and Faye climbed out and joined Blake, who was already there. He turned to them as they approached. “Sorry. I’ve got a team still searching the area, but there’s no sign of the exec or Alison. We did find a homeless guy passed out inside, but he couldn’t tell us anything. Let me see her message.”
Cursing, Owen pulled out his phone and showed Blake the text. Come hell or high water, he’d be at the Boneyard tonight. “I’m going.”
“Could be a trap.”
“Don’t care. One way or another, I’m getting Alison back. Tonight.”
16
Eleven forty-five.
Alison took a deep breath and stared at the clock on the wall at the twenty-four-hour coffee house in which she’d taken refuge. The crowds made her feel safer and the owners hadn’t kicked her out, even though she’d been nursing the same cup of coffee for hours. She’d managed to scrounge enough money together by pawning her watch to buy the cheap burner phone she’d used to text Owen earlier, snag a fresh top and hoodie at a second-hand store to replace her bloodstained one and buy some bandaids. She’d tended to the injury in the ladies room (just a deep graze, thankfully) before scoring a muffin and mug of joe here to keep her going.
With luck, soon, I’ll be free.
She sipped the last of her coffee before pushing to her feet and heading out into the open streets of Vegas again. Her best bet for picking up the Copernatech thug again was to return to Owen’s apartment building, so she headed the few blocks over. If her plan had any hopes for success, she needed the gunman to follow her.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long. After a mere ten minutes of pacing, the man approached her from around the corner again, his build and silhouette the same as the earlier shooter.
Bingo!
Pulse racing, she took off at a fast walk toward the Boneyard just north of Owen’s place. The first time he’d shot at her, he’d waited until they were in a deserted side street, so this time she stuck to heavily populated areas and somehow refrained from breaking into a run. She didn’t want to call attention to her or the gunman, if she did he might start shooting and an innocent person could get hurt.
Every so often, she’d glance over her shoulder to make sure he was still in pursuit.
Yep. Still there, lingering back maybe fifty-feet or so.
As she neared the entrance to the Neon Museum, she took an unexpected turn to the right and slipped into a shadowed alcove, hoping to lose him briefly to allow her to sneak past the museum’s security and into the Boneyard. Moments later, the guy stopped a few feet from her hiding place, his breath loud in the cool night air. Alison didn’t move a muscle, eyes squeezed shut as she waited for him to either kill her or move away.
Thankfully, he cursed and walked back toward the main street.
Alison sagged against the brick wall then hesitated a bit longer before jogging the short distance to the Boneyard’s employee side exit. The chain link gate was secured with only a heavy padlock. After what she had planned tonight, they’d change that soon enough, but for now it was perfect. She pulled out a bobby pin from her pocket and crouched to pick the lock.
Good thing self-defense wasn’t the only thing she’d learned back in the dojo.
Minutes later, the tumblers inside the padlock slipped into place and the top popped open. Alison straightened and shoved the pin back into her pocket, only to feel a hand on her shoulder.
Fuck.
She’d done her best to keep a lookout while picking the lock, but she must’ve gotten distracted. Breath held, she turned slowly to face whoever was behind her, well aware these might be her last moments on earth.
Except the face that came into view wasn’t the thug who’d followed her, but a familiar one, a trusted one. She gave a relieved sigh. “Caroline, you scared the living crap out of me. What are you doing here?”
Her contact at Copernatech, Caroline Biggs, had served on the same team as Alison. She held a finger to her lips and glanced around, her short dark curls bouncing around her face. “Let’s get inside first, where it’s safe.”
“Right.” Alison creaked open the gate as quietly as possible and waved her friend through then followed behind. They walked to a large metal sign shaped like a cowboy boot and Alison leaned against it for a moment, head lowered. “We don’t have a lot of time. There’s a Copernatech thug on the loose.”
“I know.” Caroline’s voice sounded odd. Alison looked up in time to see her draw a gun from inside her jacket. “How do you think I knew where to find you?”
Realization dawned with sickening clarity.
Caroline had turned on her for Copernatech.
Hands held up in the universal sign of surrender, Alison pushed away from the sign. If she played along, hopefully it might buy her some time to escape. “What’s going on Caro? I thought we were in this together.”
“We were, until Copernatech gave me no choice.” Her bright smile faltered and tears gathered in her dark eyes. “I’m sorry about this, Heather. I tried to warn you in the letter five days ago, why didn't you run?”
“The last letter?” Alison thought back to the last time she'd been to the bench. There had been no letter. Had someone else gotten it first? “The last one I got was over a week ago.”
A spark of contrition flashed through Caro's eyes, but the gun didn't waver. “I'm sorry. Really, I am. But they’ve got my family. My babies. If I don’t hand you over, they’ll kill them.”
“I can help you, Caro.” Alison inched slightly to the side. The place was a maze of old, abandoned signage. If she could get lost inside the bones of Old Las Vegas, the probability of her survival greatly increased. “I’m a mathematician, remember? Between the two of us, we can outsmart these guys. Just let me calculate some numbers.”
“No.” Caroline moved closer, the gun trembling in her hands. “No more calculations. No more outsmarting them. They won, Heather. It’s over.”
Given the distance between herself and Caro and the level of darkness, she should be able to fight her way out of this without doing any serious damage to either of them, at least in theory. Decided, Alison inhaled and gave a slight nod. “I’m sorry too, Caroline.”
Before the other woman could react, Alison kicked the gun from her hands, followed by a fast blow to Caroline’s chest and the side of her head. Caroline slumped unconscious at her feet. Thank God for all those self-defense lessons.
Adrenaline pumping and time short, she dragged the woman’s body behind the gigantic steel boot then took off into the heart of the Boneyard. If they hadn’t moved anything around since the last time she’d been here, there should be a spot near the middle of the maze that would give her optimal visual advantage over her opponent. Now, all she has to do is wait for him.
It didn’t take long.
She crouched behind a large rectangular sign and held her breath as the sound of the metal gate squeaking open was followed by the crunch of footsteps on gravel.
Closer, closer…
The footfalls ceased and a gruff curse rang out through the pitch black night.
> He must’ve found Caro.
The steps started again, louder and quicker this time, headed in her general direction.
Alison closed her eyes and concentrated on the impending approach of her attacker, ran through the logistics of it all in her head one more time.
Any minute now, any minute now, any minute…
Now!
She darted from cover and deeper into the maze of signs, leading the thug closer to where she needed him. This had to work or she’d be dead before Owen ever arrived.
Owen.
A pang of yearning stabbed her heart.
Where is he?
It had to be close to midnight now, given the angle of the moon above. Only a few more minutes and this would all be over. Only a few more minutes and…
The Copernatech thug stepped into the required spot and Alison acted on pure instinct. With her left shoulder, she shoved hard against the nearest sign—once, twice—until it gave a low groan and teetered over, knocking into the next sign, which toppled into the next sign, and the next until she’d started a domino effect.
Soon, the entire Boneyard was filled with the clang-clang of colliding signage until all that remained was a heaping pile of debris and dust at the center of the space, trapping her attacker inside the mess.
She coughed and squinted over at the employee gate.
Still no Owen.
Had he decided not to come? Decided I’m not worth the risk?
As if on cue the wail of sirens neared and Alison grinned.
* * *
Owen slammed on his brakes just outside the gate to the Boneyard and jammed his car’s transmission into Park.That damned traffic snarl on the Strip had made him later than he’d wanted. And maybe he was taking up three parking spaces. Right now, he didn’t care if he was blocking the whole fucking lot for the police that followed. The woman he loved was inside that fence—possibly hurt and definitely in danger—and he sure as hell planned to get her out.
As a steady stream of squad cars filled the roadway behind him, Owen stalked over to the gate and kicked it open, Rambo-style.