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Vegas, Baby

Page 25

by Sandra Edwards


  Chris and Paul looked at each other and then back to Gabe, asking in unison, “Us?”

  “Yes. And it has to be done today.” A spasm of despair twisted in Gabe’s gut. He knew what the investigation’s outcome could do to the casino. “We’ve got to give them a chance to stop that tournament before it goes any further.”

  “LaCall doesn’t want to wrap this up himself?” Paul asked with a bit of curious disbelief.

  “He’s busy with Switzer’s accident,” Gabe said, okay that he was speaking in half-truths. The less he said about Switzer—until LaCall returned—the better.

  “We’ll get right on it,” Bradley said, preparing to stand. “Should we speak directly to Carpenter?”

  “Yes.” Gabe paused and then issued a gentle warning, “Don’t breathe a word to anyone about the tournament being rigged until you talk to Carpenter.”

  * * *

  Rio and Eddie represented the first law enforcement agency to examine Blake Switzer’s house after his tragic and unexpected death. The fact that Eddie had already been there in search of evidence lingered in the back of his mind, tempting him with thoughts of failure again.

  He can’t be that good, Eddie argued with his senses. Bad guys slip up, sooner or later, and Switzer’s time had to be now. This was Eddie’s last chance since the guy was dead.

  Rio paused at the front door and rubbed the back of her neck.

  “Don’t worry,” Eddie said, resting his hand on the small of her back. “The guy’s dead. He can’t hurt you now.”

  She shivered. “The guy still gives me the creeps,” she said just because she didn’t want him thinking his touch had anything to do with her reaction.

  Truth be known, she wasn’t sure if she could separate the two. Sure, she was shaken over the revelation that Switzer had sent her those scornful letters and then he’d graduated to the more serious crime of attempting to kill her. Twice. But the clincher was the letter found inside his car after his death.

  Admittedly, the way Blake always looked at her gave her the creeps, but she never would’ve suspected a colleague of wanting to do her harm.

  Rio followed close behind Eddie as they crossed the threshold into Switzer’s bedroom. Goosebumps crawled over her skin at the thought of the things he’d contemplated doing to her—probably in this very room.

  Even though she was out of Switzer’s reach now that he was dead, still she canvassed the room warily as if he were going to jump out of the shadows at any moment.

  Everything about the room, and the house, was neat and tidy. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. Switzer’s home looked more like one of those fully furnished models used strictly as a means to sell a unit in a housing tract. The orderliness bothered Rio. How could anyone live in such meticulousness?

  “Oh, I don’t like it in here.” She frowned as a chill breezed past her.

  Eddie wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “He can’t hurt you. Not anymore.” He’d said the words before, but they’d come out stronger this time.

  Yeah, but what about you? Rio gave the thought a mental shake-off. This was no time to let him get to her. She needed to focus. There was too much at stake. The cop in her could easily guess that Eddie was all about finding what they’d come for—proof of Switzer’s guilt—and nothing more. Everything else was just a precursor to satisfying Gabe and her father’s trepidation.

  Eddie’s hands swooped down her arms and breezed against her hands before he dropped to the floor. His examination beneath the bed turned up nothing. No surprises tucked away, hidden out of sight. Not a smidgen of dirt, no dust bunnies or the slightest speck of debris.

  “You knew it was him all along.” Why hadn’t Rio seen it as clearly as Eddie? Was she losing her intuitive touch?

  “I’ve had my suspicions almost from the beginning.” Eddie pushed himself off the floor and his gaze traveled around the room slowly. “Walters’ death, the flowers, the candy. They were pretty much my ace in the hole. Especially the flowers and candy. Those helped me convince Gabe that I might be on to something.”

  “The flowers and candy?” Rio was flooded with curiosity as she watched Eddie riffle through the nightstands.

  “Considering how much poison had been doused on the candy,” Eddie said, moving to the dresser. “It was clear that someone meant to kill you.” He opened the top drawer, searched it and then went on to the next. “It seemed a little weird that the roses weren’t dusted with a powder form of strychnine.” He paused, warding off the disappointment of finding nothing out of the ordinary yet. Drawing a deep breath, he eyed the chest of drawers near the closet.

  “The roses would’ve affected anybody within a close proximity.” She followed him as he maneuvered about the room.

  “Exactly,” Eddie said, delicately inspecting the contents of each drawer in the chest. “That’s when it occurred to me.”

  “What?” she asked, as he opened the closet door.

  “The sender didn’t care about exposing everyone around you to the poison in the candy,” he said, looking through the boxes on the upper shelf. “So why grow a conscience about exposing others to the toxic flowers?” Eddie searched a couple of printer paper cartons in the bottom of the closet. “I think that’s when Gabe really saw it.”

  A hard dose of reality slammed into Rio like a hurricane force wind.

  It made sense that the only person the unidentified sender was trying to save was himself. That sure made Blake look guilty. Still, something about the whole thing bothered her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but that didn’t lessen the inkling knotting in her gut. She wasn’t forgetting that she’d been way off the mark on this one either.

  Eddie scooped up a boot-sized shoe box. “Hum…” He didn’t recall seeing it the last time he’d searched the house. If luck was on his side, it would turn out to be a significant find. “That’s when I knew for certain the stalker was one of us,” he said, lifting the lid. “And the only one of us that made sense was Switzer.” Eddie pulled a pair of ripped silk panties out of the box. The same ones he’d torn away from Rio’s body the night they’d made love in the limo.

  “He took my underwear?” She shrieked. When had that happened? Had she dropped it during their confrontation with Switzer in the garage of her apartment building?

  Inside the box they found a virtual shrine revolving around Rio and Blake Switzer’s hatred for her. The magazines and newspapers Blake had used to create the anonymous letters—that had became more and more threatening over time—were also in the box.

  CHAPTER 33

  A SOFT rapping on the opened door of Gabe Dalton’s office drew him away from the file he’d been perusing half the morning. The stalker case couldn’t have been wrapped up more neatly if it’d been tied with a ribbon. The ease with which that’d happened didn’t set well with Gabe. It was a little too convenient to suit him. Especially when LaCall had searched Switzer’s home just days before and found nothing. Gabe closed the folder and pushed it aside, half hoping he could push the nagging doubt with it, and looked up.

  LaCall stood lingering in the doorway. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “Come in and close the door,” he said with a gentle wave. He waited until the entry was secure and LaCall was sitting in the chair across from him before saying anything more. “So what’s your plan now?”

  “My plan?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, LaCall.” Gabe wasn’t in the mood. “You were sent here for a specific reason. Do you have a suspect or not?”

  “If I had to put my money on someone,” he said, “I’d say Switzer was a good bet.”

  “Do you have more than just a hunch?”

  “Plenty of circumstantial evidence.”

  “I take it you’re going to stick around and see this investigation through?”

  “That’d be the smart thing to do.”

  “And after that maybe you’d like a permanent position around here?” Gabe said. “I need somebody
to keep Laraquette in line.”

  Eddie laughed. “I’m not sure anybody’s up for that job.” His pride seemed to wilt. “She plays by her own rules and there’s no known handbook.”

  “See, I knew you understood her perfectly.” Gabe let out a little chuckle. “She’s never tolerated anyone quite like she tolerates you.”

  “She hates me.”

  “Don’t let that façade fool you, boy,” he said in a lighthearted tone. “That girl’s got a soft spot for you.”

  “If you say so...” His words trailed off into a doubtful laugh.

  “Just think about it, will you?”

  “I’ll do that.” Eddie’s light tone failed to fit the moment. He was looking around now, everywhere but at Gabe. LaCall was looking for a way out.

  Gabe cleared his throat and prepared to change the subject. “So how certain are you that Switzer was acting alone?”

  LaCall gave one of those who knows looks and said, “There’s no evidence to suggest otherwise. I’ve gone over the case with a fine-toothed comb.” His tone and demeanor suggested he was satisfied with his findings.

  Gabe let out a sigh that was meant to mimic relief but it felt more like uncertainty. But maybe that was just because he hadn’t seen the danger sitting a few feet away from Rio on a daily basis.

  Someday, he’d ask her forgiveness…but only when he felt worthy of receiving it.

  * * *

  With two days left in the Golden Sunset’s poker tournament the casino’s brass wasn’t happy to learn the match had been rigged, or that valued employee Lester Perzinsky was partly to blame because a mobster had found out he was stealing from the casino and blackmailed him into submission.

  The mobster had jumped on the chance to tamper with the casino’s high-profile games. It was the perfect way to deliver a slap in the face to the cops who were directly responsible for his incarceration.

  Calvin Carpenter, the Golden Sunset’s CEO, had scrambled to avoid a devastating financial hit—one that could linger over into future tournaments—by issuing an official statement. The report was short and sweet: Authorities have recently uncovered a plot to rig our Championship Poker Tournament. All registered entrants should contact the casino for an immediate refund of their entry fees.

  To ensure—hopefully—that the casino’s reputation remained intact, Carpenter had another ace up his sleeve. The casino scheduled a mini-tournament the following Saturday and offered complimentary registration to all official entrants of the tainted poker tournament. Each participant would be credited with their original buy-in, up to one thousand dollars, and all entrants were free to walk at any time and take whatever winnings, including seed money, with them.

  CHAPTER 34

  RIO and Eddie couldn’t resist the casino’s mini-tournament. They rode the elevator down to the lobby of the Rio Grande Towers in silence, Rio leaning against one wall and Eddie against the opposite side of the lift. The only thing between them were their overnight cases and garment bags attached to the elevator’s railing.

  Rio wanted to ask him when he was leaving, but worried about how it would come across. For her own sanity, it was best if he went back where he came from. But the thought of Eddie walking out of her life left her feeling empty and alone.

  “I thought you would’ve relaxed a little by now,” Eddie said with a touch of hesitance.

  “And why is that?” The ice on Rio’s tone chilled even her.

  “Well, since Switzer can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “Maybe I’ll relax completely once you’re gone.”

  Eddie propped a booted foot against the wall behind him and folded his arms across his chest and snorted. “Maybe I’ll just stick around...since you’re so hot to get rid of me.”

  She cut him with a harsh glare. “You would do that, wouldn’t you?” She shook her head and laughed. “Just to piss me off!”

  The elevator doors parted. Rio cleared her throat and reached for her bags.

  Eddie laid his hand over hers. “Don’t you dare,” he said. “I’m not the heel you make me out to be. And I’d never allow a lady to carry her bags.”

  “Suit yourself.” Rio squared her shoulders and stepped into the lobby. She passed by Larry with a quick greeting and headed for the parking garage.

  Eddie was taken aback by the sight of the limo and Martin standing near the driver’s door. When Martin saw them, he moved toward Eddie. “Let me get that for you, Mr. LaCall,” he said, and tried peeling the luggage away from Eddie.

  “My name is Eddie. Mr. LaCall was my father.” Eddie tightened his grip on the bags. “I can carry the bags. But, you could help by opening the trunk.” He nodded toward the car.

  “Of course, Mr. Eddie.” Martin backed away and moved swiftly toward the car and opened the trunk. He was left to stand by and do nothing more than watch Eddie deposit the bags inside the car.

  Eddie moved around to the open car door and ducked inside. “Tell me again,” he said as he climbed inside. “Why are we making use of this limo today? You have a perfectly good car that we could be driving around in,” he teased her, fully aware that her car hadn’t been cleared by the Department yet.

  “Okay, pay attention this time,” she said. “I told you we have that thing to go to for my dad tonight.”

  “We?”

  “The way I see it, LaCall...” She doused him with an evil eye. “You owe me.”

  “Point taken,” he said. “But that still doesn’t explain the limo.”

  “Well...since the poker tournament—at least for me—will take all day…I’ve booked us a room at the hotel so we can change into our evening wear and head over to the party.”

  “At the risk of repeating myself...”

  “We need the limo because we’ll be drinking at the party,” she said with a touch of formality.

  “Oh, drinking…” his voice trailed off in amusement. “And we have to go to some stuffed shirt party to do this?”

  “Well, it’s not like we’re buddies or anything.” She scolded him. He may think he was back in her good graces but that couldn’t be further from the truth. She wanted him at that party but it had nothing to do with them.

  He studied her for a moment, like he was weighing his options. “What do you say we forget about the poker tournament and the thing tonight?” he asked. “Let’s run away instead...to Mexico!”

  Mexico?

  He was teasing.

  She decided to play along. “As enticing as that sounds,” she said, “I have plans to whip your tail at poker today.”

  “Do you, now?” Eddie laughed, a hint of skepticism gleaming in his eyes.

  “I do.”

  “Would you care to make a little wager on that?”

  “What do you have in mind, LaCall?”

  “Just a friendly little wager.” He paused, considering what the spoils should be. Numerous possibilities crossed his mind—none of which he stood a chance in hell of attaining.

  “How about,” Rio said, “the winner…me—” She pointed to herself. “—gets to have the loser...that would be you...do whatever the winner says?”

  “And what exactly defines the winner?”

  “Whoever walks away with the most money.”

  “That seems a little vague,” he said. “I say we set a time limit to compare our winnings.”

  “Fine. Three o’clock.” She seemed insulted. That wasn’t Eddie’s intention. He’d have to do some damage control.

  * * *

  As luck would have it, or maybe it was fate that brought Eddie and Rio together at one of the tournament’s last remaining poker tables in the afternoon.

  The bet they’d made was sitting on Rio’s shoulder like a big chip. She did a quick mental comparison of her holdings and Eddie’s. Their piles looked pretty even but he might be a little ahead of her. No matter, it was getting late. This had to be the last hand, and she needed the flop and the river to complement her hole cards in the next hand if she hoped to stand a chance
at coming out the winner.

  Rio glanced at her watch. “It’s a quarter till.” She looked at Eddie, in the seat next to her, and added, “Last hand?”

  He browsed his chips, scanned Rio’s and then let his gaze travel up to meet hers. “Sure.”

  “Deal ‘em!” She tried to match his countenance.

  The dealer went to work and Rio watched Eddie as he barely tipped up the edges of his hole cards. Her gaze traveled up to his trademark “poker face”; it gave away nothing. She shoved aside the dissatisfaction of not being able to read him and went for her own cards, picking them up completely off the table—something she would not normally do—and guarded them as best she could. If the move threw Eddie off, she’d chance it.

  Two aces.

  She looked up at Eddie with no smile, no frown, no nothing.

  But he’d seen the fleeting glimpse of excitement twinkle across her eyes. She’d curbed it quickly and he doubted anyone else noticed.

  The player with the dealer button sat on the opposite side of the table and the bet came around to Eddie first. “I’m gonna raise you two hundred,” he said, looking at Rio.

  “Okay.” She threw a chip in and grabbed for more. “I’ll raise you another hundred.”

  Eddie laughed inside and tossed another hundred into the pot.

  With a pair of threes in the hole he didn’t expect to get far, but he supposed he could give Rio the hand and quite possibly their wager if he could lure her into a bidding war with him. No one else at the table had the guts to join in if that happened.

  Eddie hadn’t expected the other pair of threes to land in the flop. That changed everything. If he won—and the chances of that were very good now—he was going to have a lot of fun watching Rio stress out as he contemplated what his reward would entail.

  The river card fell. An ace.

  Rio straightened in her seat.

  That last card gave her a full house. The only thing that could spoil it for her was someone holding a pair of threes in the hole. The odds of that were extremely rare.

 

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