Vegas, Baby

by Sandra Edwards

  “Your props are ready.” Dickie’s call from the lab downstairs couldn’t have come at a better time.

  “Awesome. I’ll be down in a minute.” She closed the phone and turned to Eddie. “How’s your poker skills, LaCall?”

  “Fair. I know my way around the game.”

  “Good. I’ve decided to enter the tournament to see what kind of information I can come up with.” She let her gaze slide up to meet his, hoping she’d successfully shaken her fascination with him. “Maybe it’d be best if you entered, too.”

  “That’s a good idea, Laraquette.” He winked and stepped toward the elevator. “I think I’ll keep you.” He hit the “down” button and let his gaze linger on her longer than she liked.

  Keeping her distance wasn’t going to be easy if he kept up these flirtatious shenanigans.

  CHAPTER 10

  RIO scrutinized the Texas Driver’s License, but no matter how many times she reviewed it the name refused to change. “Scarlett Butler...?”

  “Well, you did say you wanted your name to sound southern.” Dickie was smart enough to stay behind the counter where he was safe.

  Eddie laughed.

  “You think this is funny?” Rio gave him a scolding look, and his amusement faded swiftly.

  “Well, yeah...I did.” A glint of lingering humor flickered in Eddie’s dark eyes. “Miss Scarlett.”

  “Dickie...” Rio turned to the guy smart enough to still be behind the counter. “On LaCall’s new ID, name him...” She let her gaze journey slowly back to Eddie. “Ashley Wilkes.”

  Eddie shook his head. “I’m not going undercover with a girl’s name.”

  “For your information, Ashley Wilkes was the guy Scarlett O’Hara was in love with in Gone With the Wind.” She stopped and studied him. How did anyone not know about that love triangle? “She ended up with Rhett Butler because Ashley married his cousin Melanie.”

  “Humph...” Eddie’s chuckle held a hint of disapproval. “Sounds like a soap opera to me.” He shrugged it off as if the whole storyline was trivial, not worth his time. Then he looked at Dickie. “Don’t send me under with a girl’s name.” His gaze turned into a glare as he pointed his finger at the lab tech. “Am I clear?”

  “Crystal,” Dickie said, his demeanor void of fear or worry.

  “Okay, guys. Let’s play nice.” Rio felt like a first-grade teacher who’d been assigned to monitor the playground. Playing mediator between these two wasn’t likely to work anymore than trying to talk some sense into a couple of six year olds. She pulled Eddie out into the hallway. “It’s not a good idea to get snippy with Dickie,” she said. “You could end up with people calling you God knows what.”

  She’d seen it before. Once, when Chris Bradley got on Dickie’s bad side he ended up going undercover as Jethro Clampett.

  * * *

  The next morning, Rio bet her new partner ended up regretting his smart-mouthed exchange with Dickie King, right about the time he found out the particulars of his undercover identity.

  Henry Little-Feet.

  Rio had practically dragged him out of Dickie’s lab and down the hallway toward the elevator. Luckily, the doors slid open seconds after she hit the “UP” button. She latched onto his tee-shirt at the collar and hauled him inside the compartment.

  “See.” She punched the “3” button. “I told you not to make him mad.” She blasted Eddie with an admonishing glare. The elevator doors slid shut and the lift started moving. “Now he wants people to look at you and think little feet...little—” She didn’t have the heart to proclaim the rest out loud. Even if it wasn’t true, such words had a way of cutting into a man’s ego.

  Eddie cocked his head to one side and studied her face for what seemed an eternity. “Well...” His mouth quirked with humor. “You can set the record straight.”

  The elevator came to an abrupt halt and the doors slid open. Chris Bradley gave them both a quick, vague glance. “LaCall, insurance adjuster is down in the lobby to see you.”

  Eddie looked at Rio.

  “Don’t worry.” She stepped out into the corridor and turned back to face the open compartment. “You go ahead and talk to the insurance guy. I’ll register you for the tournament online.” Holding her hand out, she waited for his identity props.

  “Okay.” He handed her the Driver’s License and Social Security and credit cards without much thought.

  His fingertips brushed over her hand as he retreated toward the back of the elevator. The contact brought back memories from last night.

  Rio made her way back to her desk and avoided making eye contact with any of her coworkers. Dropping into the chair at her desk, she directed her attention to her computer monitor and the Internet. She registered Eddie for the poker tournament and then focused on the stack of mail in her in-bin.

  With scorching thoughts of Eddie—the heat of his naked skin burning against hers—she eyed the envelope with vague curiosity. It lacked a return address. Using a letter opener, she ripped the packet apart.

  An oddly familiar sight knotted fear in her gut. Another anonymous note just like the one from the other day. But this time the letters, still cut and pasted from newspapers and magazines, formed much harsher words.

  You’ll never learn, will you? I warned you. I tried to tell you to back off, but you insist on moving forward with your idiotic plans. Give it up or you’re going to get hurt.

  * * *

  Eddie turned the corner and headed inside the FVC Unit. The insurance adjuster had finally brought him news he wanted to hear. Rio would be happy that his insurance company was cutting him a check tomorrow for the value of his truck. Soon, she could stop playing taxi-driver.

  He cut his eyes toward her desk, wanting to tell her the good news. Rio’s cheeks flushed crimson, accentuating her fiery copper hair. Her blazing glow withered Eddie’s composure.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, pulling his chair up next to hers.

  Fear, flagrant and forceful, glittered in her eyes as she handed over the anonymous letter.

  He scanned the note, forming an opinion about the contents quickly. “Where’s the envelope?” he asked, trying to mask the angst building up inside.

  She slid the wrapper off the desk and handed it to him. The letter’s cover held no telltale signs, no clues, nothing to give away the sender’s identity.

  Eddie grabbed Rio’s hand. “Come on.” He tugged her to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?” She staggered behind him, nearly tripping.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I have to take you someplace where I can protect you.”

  She yanked her arm free of his and stopped in the corridor. “I am not running!”

  “I’m not asking you to run.” He stood with his hands on his hips. “I’m just asking you to think sensibly.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Eddie.” She stiffened and pretentiously tossed her head.

  “Rio, you can’t take this lightly.” He waved the envelope between them.

  This new letter aroused old fears and uncertainties. Eddie had to do a better job of protecting Rio than he had Olivia.

  He looked briefly over Rio’s shoulder. Blake Switzer was in the hallway now and headed straight for them.

  “Not now, Switzer.” Eddie flung a cautioning hand into the air.

  “LaCall, I want whatever evidence you have.”

  “What...?” Rio’s punishing glare cut to Switzer. “How do you know there’s evidence?”

  “Just listening to the two of you.” Switzer let out an aversive cackle. “It’s pretty obvious.”

  “You want it?” Eddie asked. “Here, take it.” He tossed the letter and the envelope at Switzer, who attempted but failed to catch either of them before they fell to the floor.

  Switzer gave him a hard glare before kneeling to retrieve the evidence.

  Eddie mentally separated his irritation with Switzer from his desire to keep Rio safe. He turned to her. “Let’s get out of h
ere,” he said as if there was no need for urgency. “Let’s go check out the casino, see what we can find out about the tournament.”

  Her face brightened. Good. He had her attention.

  “That reminds me,” she said. “Dickie says he’s got some more goodies for us.” A grin overtook her features.

  “Well, let’s go see what he’s come up with.” Eddie nudged her toward the elevator and flicked the ‘down’ button.

  Catching a stealthy look over his shoulder, Eddie didn’t like the sight of Switzer standing in the hallway, letter and envelope in hand, watching him and Rio.

  Eddie shook his head and turned back to the elevator. Switzer would never solve this case. If anything, the guy fit the M-O of the perpetrator. Clearly—at least to Eddie—Switzer had tasted the bitter tang of unrequited love. Anybody with eyes could see he had it bad for Rio.

  The elevator doors parted and Eddie took one last glimpse at Switzer, still standing stone-faced in the corridor. Something about that guy blew all of Eddie’s protective circuits.

  Keeping Switzer away from Rio became his top priority. It even shoved his off-the-record job onto the back burner.

  “Listen...” Eddie maneuvered Rio into the elevator and punched the L2 button, what he’d come to learn as Dickie’s floor.“You have to promise me—” His voice echoed a serious tone as the elevator doors closed. “Any letters you get, you have to show them to me before you let Switzer have them.”

  “Okay.” Rio looked at him nakedly. That girl never blinked.

  Eddie got the feeling she didn’t like placing her life in the hands of another, especially someone she hadn’t known that long—no matter how agreeable she appeared.

  But he had to convince her that her trust was well-placed. The only way to get through to her was on her level. He’d start with the facts.

  “Gabe thinks it’s that guy, Atkins,” he said. She gave him a faint, dismissive nod. “Do you think it could be him?” Eddie had to trust her instincts above everybody else’s.

  “No.” She frowned in annoyance. “There’s no way it’s Turner. He wouldn’t be trying to scare me, he’d be trying to trump me.”

  “Fair enough.” The elevator landed on Dickie’s floor and the doors slid apart. Eddie waited for Rio to exit first. “We really need to put some thought into who would try something like this.” He put the thought out there as they strolled toward Dickie’s lab.

  He stretched around her and opened the door. “All right,” she said, stepping inside. “I’ll give it some thought.”

  Rio stopped at the partition meant to keep Dickie on one side and his customers on the other. Eddie stilled at her side and braced himself against the counter.

  She rested her forearms on the ledge and laced her fingers together. “What do you got for me?” she said to Dickie.

  “Well, I’ve tinkered with your flag a bit.” He laid an object on the countertop that looked like one of those girly-type jeweled American flag pins. “It’s totally wireless now. The mic will pick up all conversations within a twenty-foot radius.”

  Eddie saw the understanding register on Rio’s face. “Nice,” she said, her smile full of gripping admiration.

  “My computers will sort the various discussions, so they’re audible to the human ear.” Dickie’s voice oozed boastful conceit. “There are three micro-cameras embedded inside. They each snap a picture every thirty seconds, transmitting them back here.”

  “Impressive.” Eddie scooped up the jewelry and examined it with a curious eye. He’d heard about these kinds of high-tech props, but had never seen any personally.

  Everything that had ever come across his desk in Phoenix had always had concealable wiring involved, but this—this was sheer genius. Law enforcement techs with this kind of talent were uncommon.

  “You like?” Dickie asked, smugly complacent.

  “Oh, sure, I like it,” Eddie said. But somebody had to keep this wiz-kid’s feet on the ground, and Eddie was just the guy to do it. “But I’m not wearing a girly, jeweled-up pin—even if it is a patriotic symbol.”

  “I figured as much,” Dickie said dismissively and retrieved an oblong jewelry box from under the counter. He opened the case and plucked out a silver and turquoise medallion. And again, he looked rather pleased with himself. “It has the same wireless features and capabilities that I’ve planted in Rio’s flag.”

  Eddie scrutinized the masculine necklace. Okay, I can wear this.

  “What’s this?” Rio asked. Eddie pulled his thoughts away from the manly piece of jewelry and looked at her. She had a flip phone in her hand, examining it.

  “Looks like a cell phone, huh?” Dickie said with a flicker of ingenuity.

  “Yeah.” Her eyes remained glued to Dickie’s invention.

  “Turn it on,” Dickie said.

  She pressed the “on” button without looking up, held it down for a couple of seconds and waited until it began powering on before she raised her gaze to look at Dickie.

  “You’ve just scrambled all listening devices within a fifty-foot radius.” His mouth spread into a hedonistic smile. Dickie was proud of himself. Rightfully so.

  “Seriously...?” Rio and Eddie said in unison, and more out of awe than anything else—at least on Eddie’s part.

  He and Rio were about to go undercover in a poker tournament, meaning they’d have to spend their nights at the casino’s hotel. Granted, the notion that their rooms could be bugged was far-fetched. But Eddie was the best at what he did because he considered all possibilities for every outcome.

  He’d like to be able to put all his efforts into the poker tournament, but there was this stalking thing with Rio and Switzer.

  The time had come to step up his game and put an end to Switzer’s ridiculous infatuation.

  CHAPTER 11

  LOCALS, tourists and tournament hopefuls consistently packed the Golden Sunset Casino to capacity during the poker matches.

  With so many people invading the not-nearly-large-enough space, Rio had an easy time convincing Eddie this was the perfect chance to acquire information. And jumping right into the fray was the best way to do that.

  Mingling into the poker tournament, she spied Eddie sitting next to a cowboy at a crowded table. But he wasn’t a real cowboy. The only kind of horse this guy had ever been on was probably one of those you find in front of stores that require coins to make it operate.

  More than likely, he was one of those people who liked showing off what his money could buy. Cowboy’s wealth afforded him alligator boots, belt, and a matching band around his Diamante—the best Stetson had to offer.

  This guy was a class A show-off. If the salesclerk who’d sold him all this matching attire told him it’d help him attract women, Cowboy should ask for his money back.

  Rio went for the empty stool on the other side of Eddie, wondering how long it’d take the tournament officials to notice. That’d tell her a little something about how organized they were.

  Cowboy tapped Eddie on the arm and gestured toward Rio. Eddie glanced at her and watched her, as if he were nothing more than another admiring onlooker.

  She gave him a quick smile and turned away, concentrating on the opposite side of the table. “My goodness. This place is just like a big old maze.” She poured it on thick in the deepest southern drawl she could manage. “I thought I’d never find my seat. I’m not even sure this is it.” Her laughter bubbled over and spilled around the table.

  “Where are you from, little darlin’?” A man asked from the opposite end of the table, making a feeble attempt at matching her accent.

  She prepared to dazzle the contestants with her charm. “Why, honey, I’m from—”

  A man sitting on her right cut her off. “Let me guess...Texas?” He snickered, and she felt like she was playing jester to the clown.

  “How did you know?” She let him think she was surprised. “What gave me away?”

  Rio fiddled with the waistline of her jeans, tracing the brim a
long to her backside. She brushed her fingers down over her bottom and skimmed one palm along Eddie’s leg as she brought her hands back around to rest in her lap.

  Eddie’s response, a soft chuckle, was so faint she nearly missed it.

  “Because,” the cowboy on the other side of Eddie answered her inquiry, “they only breed ‘em like you down in Texas, honey.”

  You don’t say. She kept the urge to laugh inside her head. “That’s what my daddy always used to say about my momma.” She let her gaze follow the humor around the table. Amusement flickered in Eddie’s eyes. She moved on to meet Cowboy’s just as interested yet less than welcomed stare. She cut the connection quickly and looked down at the card table. “My momma was from Georgia.”

  “Miss...” A man’s authoritative voice slid in from behind her. She could tell by his tone that he was going to spoil her fun.

  Well, it’s about time. Rio had begun to wonder about the casino’s credibility when it came to sponsoring a poker tournament of this size and magnitude.

  Rio checked over her shoulder. Just as she’d surmised and anticipated, a casino employee stood poised behind her. A Pit Boss, she deduced, evident by his polyester suit that looked like so many others roaming around the casino. With a quick, nonchalant glimpse she sized him up, taking note of his nametag.

  Lester Perzinsky.

  * * *

  The casino employee studied Rio’s name tag. Either that, or he was blatantly ogling her breasts. Eddie hoped it wasn’t the latter. He’d hate to have to beat the crap out of some casino employee. That’d probably blow their cover.

  “Miss Butler—” Lester’s formal greeting ensured his safety from Eddie’s wrath. “—why don’t you let me assist you in finding your assigned seat.”

  “This isn’t my seat?”

  “No, Ms. Butler. It isn’t.”

  “Please, call me Scarlett.” She flashed a pleasant smile and pushed herself off the stool.

  “Follow me, Ms. Scarlett,” he said dryly, leading her away.

  She walked away and the laughter around the table slowly died out. Everyone, it seemed, including Eddie, was mourning the loss of Miss Scarlet Butler.