Eddie looked around for Rio and Victoria. They’d been gone a long time. He searched the crowd, barely hearing the words as James continued his speech.
“Ladies and gentleman, in hopes that we may offer financial assistance to shore up the legal system to ensure the safety of this country’s children, and, to provide support to the families of those the system has so grievously failed…I give you the Olivia LaCall Foundation.” The image of the grand sign out front flickered on the screen behind the half opened curtain. “Tonight, Laraquette Enterprises will match donations, dollar for dollar, so dig deep and help fund this noble and worthy cause.”
Where is Rio? This shebang was her baby. It didn’t make sense that she’d miss it. Eddie stood. He was going to go find her. Behind him, up on the stage, the curtains rested at the sides of the screen. He was about to step away from the table when he heard the gasps and hushed whispers traveling around the room.
Curiosity, more than anything, pushed him to look over his shoulder. He stared, stunned, at the image on the screen. Fear launched from his gut and shot out in all directions. The structure out front was still covered with the tarp shielding the building’s name. On top, Naomi held Rio in a choke hold with one arm and a gun to her head with the other hand.
James stepped away from the podium and stumbled down the steps, nearly falling.
The convention room’s main doors swung open. Victoria stopped just inside the doorway; blood soaked the side of her head, tainting her blonde hair red. “She’s got her...” she uttered just before her eyes fluttered shut and she fell to the floor.
Paul rushed to Victoria and Eddie raced outside. Those who weren’t fixated on Paul and Victoria watched the live feed on the big screen. Within seconds, Eddie came into the scene.
Eddie stared up at the top of the structure. “Naomi, what in God’s name are you doing?” He gave Rio a quick once-over, telling himself she was okay. For now.
“She wouldn’t listen. She wouldn’t back off.” Naomi’s words, delivered on a chilled tone, slashed at Eddie’s heart.
“Naomi…” He reached toward them as if he could help Rio.
“Shut up!” she yelled. “You’re as guilty as she is. You threw me away like I was yesterday’s news. And then you came up here and hopped right into the sack with her!”
Naomi tightened the grip she had on Rio. It stung, just thinking about the night Eddie had stayed at her house right after he was released from the hospital.
“You couldn’t control yourself,” Naomi said. “And you paid for that.”
“Paid?” Eddie mouthed the word.
“Your house.” Naomi’s tone hardened. “You think that was an accident?”
“You?” he asked. “You burned my house down?”
“It’s your fault. You made me do it.”
“You put that snake in my car?” Rio wrapped her hands loosely around Naomi’s arm that was pressing against her neck.
“No, of course not!” Naomi disgust for Rio showed in her tone. “I got that stupid-ass Blake Switzer to do that. He was supposed to save you, making himself seem more appealing.”
“You two were working together?” Rio asked in a tremulous voice.
Naomi laughed.
“The letters…?” Rio asked, terrified of the answer. “Who sent me those letters? Was it you or Blake?”
“Come now…” Naomi’s tone mocked her. “You don’t think Blake Switzer could ever be that creative, do you?”
“You guys were working together!” Rio said, as the puzzle pieces fell into place.
“We weren’t exactly a team.” Naomi’s scoffing suggested Switzer could never be quite so innovative. “He was just an easy mark.” Suddenly, and for no real reason, Naomi began to prattle on about the brilliancy of her scheming. “I was hoping I could enlist the help of Chris Bradley or that little Hottie Dickie King. But then I realized my mistake after it became clear that you liked your meat a little darker.” She sighed and it turned into a shudder. “I did have hopes for Paul Rivera...but that little twerp was the only one who’d never consider crossing the line for you.” She shrugged and tightened her grip. “Deep down, I always knew you’d never leave a man like Eddie for a guy like Blake. That’s why I tried to scare you off.” She twisted the gun’s barrel against Rio’s head as if she were tightening a screw.
“Naomi…” Eddie tried to contain his anger. “Why don’t you let her go? And you and I…we’ll go talk about this.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Her words spewed out harshly. “I realized if you wouldn’t come back if you thought I was pregnant—” She gave a helpless shrug. “Then you weren’t coming back until she was dead.”
What? The inquiry breezed through Eddie’s mind. She couldn’t honestly think he’d believe that lie, could she? He’d told the truth when he’d said it’d been months since he’d touched her; not to mention that he’d always used protection.
“The flowers and candy were from you!” Rio said as if the insight had just fallen into her thoughts.
“You bet your ass they were.” Pride seeped out in Naomi’s voice. “I saw it as the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.” Her devilish laughter pierced Rio’s eardrums. “Once I realized I had a tail on me, I knew the cops were closing in. But I also knew there was a tail on Blake, too. If anybody was going to take the fall, it’d have to be him.”
“You set him up?” That thought stomped Rio’s fear. Sure, Blake wasn’t a complete innocent. But if there was even a grain of truth in what Naomi was saying, Blake was far from the monster she’d led them to believe. “Before or after he died in the accident?”
“You guys aren’t too bright, are you?” Naomi’s inquiry snapped at Rio’s ego. “That was no accident. And it was all his fault. I had the perfect plan. We were all going to live happily-ever-after. But Blake kept shooting all my ideas down because they were illegal.” She tossed an indignant spin on the latter word and then began laughing. “Which is rich coming from a guy who’s been leaking information to that mob guy.”
There it was, a second finger pointing at Switzer today. The odds for his innocence were diminishing by the minute. Just when Rio was starting to feel a bit of sympathy for Blake, it vanished. “Lucky break, huh?” Rio said, feeding Naomi’s desire to talk.
“Boy, I’ll say.” Her chilling laughter didn’t lighten the mood. “But I knew he wouldn’t serve much purpose for long. And I was right, so I had to take matters into my own hands.” Her tone said she was getting annoyed now. Good. If she was annoyed, then she wasn’t fully concentrating. “I had it planned out so well. Eddie would go check on the untimely death of the guy who’d been tailing Blake. He wouldn’t be there to save you,” she said, burrowing the gun against Rio’s head again. “And if you’d gone straight to your desk like you were supposed to... you would’ve eaten the candy and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Naomi—” Eddie’s tense tone showed his disbelief. “—you killed two people?”
“You only have yourself to blame.” Naomi’s voice cracked. “And now, as the grand finale, you get to watch her die.” She shrugged, and in that split-second, tilted the gun away from Rio’s head.
Rio knew this was the only chance she was going to get. She jammed her spiked heel into Naomi’s foot. Naomi buckled. Rio struck with a spinning roundhouse kick and cracked Naomi’s jaw. The girl took two staggering steps backward and dropped her gun. It bounced off the structure and barreled to the ground.
Eddie watched the gun fall and quickly began searching for it in the darkness.
Naomi regained her footing and lunged toward Rio.
Eddie saw the barrel glistening on the ground near the base of the structure. He dove for it, knowing it was his only chance to save Rio. The two women were locked together, struggling for power. He wasn’t sure how it happened but Rio knocked Naomi back.
“Don’t move, Naomi!” He aimed the gun at her. “I will shoot you
.”
Naomi laughed, as if that were the most ludicrous thing he could’ve said, and positioned herself to take another plunge at Rio.
All the guests began to filter outside as the gunshot echoed through the night.
Naomi’s stumbling seemed to be an aftereffect of the bullet piercing her skull. She stopped at the structure’s edge, her knees buckling. As she fell, her foot caught the border of the tarp and tore it loose. Naomi plummeted to the ground at Eddie’s feet. The canvas billowed downward, revealing the building’s name in cool, sleek steel.
The Olivia LaCall Foundation.
EPILOGUE
Six Weeks Later
EDDIE stood beside the opened door of the limo and answered his cell phone, “LaCall.” He smiled at the sound of his mother’s voice. “Hey, yeah, I got the check in the mail from the insurance company yesterday. Rio and I are going truck shopping as we speak.” He chuckled and then went silent, listening to his mother’s advice. “No, her car was released a while back. She said she wanted to go for a ride in my new truck, so we’re taking her dad’s limo to the dealership.” He went silent again and then muttered, “Love you, too, Mom,” before snapping his phone shut.
“Hey, LaCall…” Rio’s voice floated out from inside the limo.
He leaned down and glanced inside the car, seeing her wearing nothing but a pair of pink high-heel shoes. She had one arm draped across the back of the seat, her knees were crossed and her other arm rested comfortably on her top knee.
“Are you ready to go for a ride, LaCall?” she asked, tempting him with a shameless smile.
“Oh, yeah…” his voice trailed off as he scrambled inside the car. This was a sure sign—if Eddie had ever seen one—that she was ready to trust him again.
Life with Rio Laraquette was going to be one hell of a ride.
** Thank you for taking the time to read VEGAS, BABY. Look for another installment in the Soul Searchers series in the fall of 2011. **
**Please turn the page for an excerpt of Sandra’s romantic thriller SECONDARY TARGETS and Cara Marsi’s romantic suspense MURDER, Mi AMORE.**
SECONDARY TARGETS
by
Sandra Edwards
CHAPTER 1
Raleigh National Cemetery
Today
THE MORNING SUN glared down on Grace Hendricks like an evil omen. She towered over the plot that was supposed to be her father’s grave, but the headstone said someone else was buried there. Grace felt like she’d walked onto the set of some weird Sci-Fi flick.
She surveyed the cemetery, half-blinded by the sunlight dousing the tombstones. Granted, she hadn’t been here since the funeral, eleven years ago, but who forgot a thing like where their father was buried? She hadn’t been a child with distorted memories, she was twenty-two when the man died.
A quick double-check of the small notepad she had clutched in her left hand confirmed the cemetery’s section and plot markers matched the ones she’d scribbled onto the paper before leaving her home in Cleveland yesterday. Grace hadn’t stumbled upon the wrong grave.
Her gaze lit back on the headstone and remained, as if the marker was going to correct itself. It didn’t.
“Where’s my father?” she whispered.
Grace backed away and hurried for the car. Her pounding heartbeat raced to her head and banged against her skull. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Four-star generals didn’t just disappear, especially the former commander of a United States Marine Corps Air Station.
She slammed the car door and started the engine, casting a fleeting glance over the cardboard box on the seat at her side. The container held the file she’d recently obtained from the Veteran’s Administration—they said the dossier was her father’s records, but she didn’t believe it. The file didn’t detail a single event in the life she remembered.
Missing graves and bizarre VA files. What the hell had Grace stumbled upon?
So far, this trip to North Carolina—the site of her father’s last command, death and subsequent burial—had done nothing to clear up the mystery. If anything, the esotericism had amplified.
The only place left to go was Cherry Point, where she hoped someone would recognize her father’s name and agree to help the former commanding general’s daughter. But who could she trust? Who wouldn’t think she’d lost her mind? Only someone who’d been there, the same as her, the day of the funeral.
Captain Eric Wayne.
He was the only one she could trust, even though she’d run out on him shortly after the funeral. The chances of Eric still being stationed at Cherry Point were slim at best, but she could always check with the Post Locator.
Hopefully, he wasn’t overseas.
When Grace arrived at the front gate those bozos wanted to deny her base access, until they saw the civilian security clearance badge, with her picture, hanging off her rearview mirror. Grace had jumped through hoops to earn those credentials for her job as a corporate fundraiser, and now her efforts were paying off in spades. Even the guards’ overbearing arrogance couldn’t stop her from entering this, or any other, military base on US soil.
Okay, so maybe, in light of 9/11 they were just doing their job, but still, why didn’t any of them know who General Michael Hendricks was? Did neither of them know the history of the military installation they guarded?
Grace headed for the Post Locator. According to them, Captain Eric Wayne was now Lt. Colonel Wayne and once again stationed at Cherry Point. What luck. Something was going Grace’s way. Finally.
She parked in the vacant visitor space in front of Building 2386. The landscape hadn’t changed much in the eleven years she’d been away. Stately red-bricked buildings, Cherry Point’s landmark, sparked her memories. Well-manicured lawns still had those squared-off hedges and splashes of spring colors bordering the structures.
Grace maneuvered through the busy entrance, slipping inside the lobby. She checked the directory on the far wall and searched for his name and location.
Lt Colonel Eric Wayne—3rd Floor, Suite 118.
Grace leaned against the sidewall of the almost empty elevator and waited for her floor. A woman, her only companion on the lift, exited on the second floor, and a guy in a Marine Corps Service Uniform joined Grace. She figured him for about forty-five or so. His gaze fell upon her and stayed a little too long to suit Grace.
She smiled, hoping to appear friendly and remote enough not to provide encouragement. The elevator’s ding signaled their arrival at the third floor, and a silent offer of thanks invaded her thoughts.
A chill shuddered up her torso as she moved past the Marine and stepped into the corridor. She studied the numbers at each door and the names beneath them.
On one side of the hallway, the numbers ran “odd” in the low 120s. The other side, the right side, she scanned them as she walked. 124. 122. 120. 118. Lt. Colonel Eric Wayne.
A mixture of fear and insecurity swept through Grace, but she had no time to wallow in self-pity. The past had reemerged, the music was getting louder and she’d forgotten the dance. Still, she opened the door and stumbled onto the dance floor, a necessary maneuver if she wanted answers. Her father had disappeared—grave and all. Eric would know what to do. Or she was screwed.
In the reception area, a clerk behind the counter glanced up from her computer screen and smiled at Grace. A single window on the far side cast faint rays of sunshine inside the mostly drab room. Grace stepped forward, closer to the receptionist. The girl had wrapped her blonde hair in a bun—whatever it takes to get it off the collar—and glued in place with hairspray. She wore no earrings, no makeup, no nail polish.
Grace fiddled with the purse strap hanging on her shoulder. “I’m here to see Lt. Colonel Eric Wayne.”
“Lt. Colonel Wayne has retired,” the receptionist said. “Just today. He left a couple of hours ago.” The clerk’s demeanor showed no sympathy, her voice held no consideration for what her words might cost Grace.
Retired? Seriously? What the
hell was Grace supposed to do now? Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to ‘erase’ her father, and she had no idea where to turn.
She couldn’t trust too many people with this newfound information. In fact, she could count them on one hand and have a whole lot of fingers left over.
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