by Debra Webb
Tallant glanced at the rear window. They’d left Romero’s pal in the car while they discussed the right way to enter the hotel and locate Vandiver and Soto.
“No offense, Friedman,” Tallant countered, “but I’m not so sure you’re up to the task. That drug may not have worn off fully yet.”
Smart. He’d used the drug as an excuse rather than her lack of ability. “We don’t have time to argue the point.” Romero was likely back at the house by now. He would be livid and out for blood. Specifically hers.
“Are you going to check every room?” he asked when she hesitated. “How long will that take? Chances are this will be the first place Romero checks when he finds we’ve given his security the slip.”
All true.
Nora smiled. “Give me a minute.” She opened the car door and scooted in next to the doctor. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? “Camille Soto knows you, doesn’t she?”
The doctor nodded. “Occasionally I attend to a guest here at the hotel. I do the same for others, as well.”
The man was scared. That was good.
“If you called her and explained that you needed to speak with her in person, does she trust you enough to give you her location?”
He shook his head. “She knows that my first allegiance is to Ivan…Mr. Romero.”
Think! There had to be a way. Nora turned back to the old man. “What if you told her that Ivan had forced you to give Dr. Vandiver a slow-acting poison? If you don’t give him the antidote immediately, it might be too late.”
“That’s ludicrous.” He made a face that showed just how crazy he thought Nora to be.
“Ivan has done worse things,” Nora said. She knew this for a fact. No doubt this man did, as well. He’d been planning surgery for her this very morning! “Things for which you are likely an accomplice.” No need to point out the aforementioned scheduled surgery.
That seemed to get his attention. His demeanor shifted into defensive mode. “I don’t know what you’re accusing me of, but I can assure you—”
“Assure me of what?” she tossed back. “That you wouldn’t have cut out my uterus if my friend here hadn’t intervened?”
He blinked twice. “You can’t prove that.”
“Probably not,” she admitted as she tapped her cheek with the cold steel muzzle of her handgun. “Any more than the police could prove I put a bullet in your head and dumped your body.” She looked first at one side of the gun she held and then at the other. “This isn’t even my weapon. It belongs to one of Ivan’s men. The police wouldn’t even investigate if they thought it would lead back to him. The two of you had a difference of opinion, and he needed you out of the way. Completely understandable.”
Fear glittered in his eyes as he hesitated, likely searching for some way to save himself.
Nora shrugged. “Too bad for you.” She started to climb out of the car.
“Wait.”
She paused for him to gather his courage.
“I can show you where she is, but you have to let me go…unharmed once I’ve done so.”
“Absolutely,” Nora assured him without reservation and despite Tallant’s questioning look. At the moment she didn’t care why the doctor would have this knowledge; she only needed to find the lovebirds. If Vandiver’s wife was indeed on the way here, she could be in danger or the other woman could be the target. Even Vandiver himself, for that matter. Nora and Tallant still had no clear evidence who was telling the truth in this fiasco.
If they could keep Romero off their backs, it was past time to clear up this mystery.
7:15 a.m.
“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS, Doc?” Ted had taken the highway into the desert. For the last ten miles or so there had been nothing but that desert.
“Yes. Another mile or so and there’s a right turn.”
Dawn had made its appearance, and now the sun was gearing up to bake the sand and towering mountains.
“Tell me, Doc,” Friedman prompted, “why would you know about Soto’s plan to come here? Your excuse that you treated a guest who’d stayed at this isolated retreat just doesn’t cut it for me.”
Ted glanced at the man via the rearview mirror. He looked nervous as hell. Whatever came out of his mouth, it wouldn’t likely be the whole truth.
“She told me that she and Dr. Vandiver came here quite often to get away from the hotel…from prying eyes,” the doctor said knowingly.
Possible, Ted decided. “Is this the turn?”
“Yes.” The doc nodded with far too much enthusiasm.
Ted had a bad, bad feeling about this. “How far until we reach the place?”
“Only a couple of miles. It’s the second of only three properties on this road.”
Friedman studied the landscape. “I’m not familiar with this area.”
She was suspicious, too. Ted heard it in her voice.
“It’s private,” the doctor explained.
“Does Ivan own this property?” asked Friedman.
Ted had considered that possibility.
“Yes,” the doctor replied. “He purchased the properties for those who prefer some distance from the constancy of the Strip.”
“Why would Soto come here?” Ted demanded. Time to get the real scoop. “Is she that close to Romero?”
“She owes him a great deal,” the doctor confessed. “She rose to manager because of him. She’s no fool. This is the last place he would look for her if he suspects she’s double-crossed him.”
Maybe so. One thing was certain, Friedman had been right. Soto had likely sold her out. The question was, how would Soto have known who Friedman was?
“There!” The doctor pointed up ahead. “It’s the next property.”
Ted made the turn into the first property.
“What’re you doing?” the man demanded. “This is the wrong place.”
“And that’s the one where Soto is, right?” Ted pointed to the small Southwestern-style house on the right a little farther down the sandy road.
The doctor nodded. “Yes…but…”
“Then we’re good,” Ted told him.
“Looks like no one’s home,” Friedman said aloud as they rolled up to the house across the road from the one Soto occupied.
Ted pulled the car around to the backyard and got out. While the doctor argued with Friedman, Ted checked out the place. Definitely no one home.
He circled the wraparound deck, paused at the front door long enough to take a good look at the place across the road. Soto’s sedan was parked out front.
Then, because humans were creatures of habit, he reached down and checked beneath the welcome mat. No key. Then he reached up to check the molding across the top of the door.
A key.
He opened the door and went inside.
Smelled of disuse.
Large great-room-style space that combined the living room, dining room and the kitchen. Massive stone fireplace for those cold desert nights. Down a narrow hall were two bedrooms and a bathroom. No linens on the beds. No soap or shampoo in the tub. A partial roll of toilet paper sat atop the toilet tank.
Nope. There hadn’t been anyone here in a while.
By the time he’d returned to the great room, Friedman and the doc had made their way inside.
“Anything?” Friedman asked.
Ted shook his head. “I need to get closer, to make sure they’re both in there.”
“And alive,” Friedman suggested.
“And alive,” Ted agreed.
“I don’t understand,” the doctor said. “I thought you intended to—”
“Secure him,” Ted told Friedman. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve had a look.”
“Come on, Doc.” Friedman pushed the older man toward the narrow hall.
The doctor’s incensed complaints followed Ted out the door.
He opened his cell to put through a call to Simon, but again, there was no service.
Damned desert.
There wasn�
�t a lot to use for cover, but Ted utilized what was available. Rocks, sand, a few scrub bushes. Mostly he used a wide berth. If Soto and Vandiver were inside and worried about unexpected company, they would be keeping an eye on the road.
The closer he came to the neighboring house, the more care he took in his movements. He wasn’t aware of Soto or Vandiver carrying a weapon, but there was a lot in this case that no one had been aware of.
In the rear a deck and basic landscaping foliage provided a small amount of cover. He chose what he hoped would be a bedroom window for taking his first look inside and eased closer.
No television or music sounds inside. No conversation, either.
He hoped the two hadn’t been executed.
Drapes were drawn over the window with just enough of a crack between them for him to get a narrow view inside. He studied the scene a moment to ensure he had a firm visual on both Vandiver and Soto.
Definitely.
The two were not only there. They were very much alive and in bed, expressing their mutual desire.
One window at a time, Ted checked them all. Like the house across the road, two bedrooms, a bath and a great room. No one else appeared to be in the house. The only sign of occupancy was the trail of clothing the two had made starting in the great room.
Somehow he had to figure out a way to get word to Simon that he’d found the missing lovers and there was no sign of the spurned wife.
If necessary, he would send Friedman back out to the main highway to make the call.
As he made his way back across the road, a number of questions crossed his mind. If Soto had no fear of repercussions from Romero, why hide out? And if she did, this was not exactly the best hiding place. Romero owned the place.
Lastly, at this point would one of them actually be afraid the wife was onto them?
Or after them?
And why the hell had Heather Vandiver Tasered a representative of the agency she’d hired to help her?
Had it been someone else? Someone who’d slipped in beneath Rocky’s radar and abducted the woman?
Too many questions.
No answers.
Chapter Fifteen
“Something is way, way wrong with this whole scenario,” Nora repeated as she paced the main room of the house. The effects of the drug had finally worn off, or maybe she’d worked them off. At least she felt like herself again.
Despite the fact that neither of them had eaten in hours. They were utterly exhausted and things just kept getting more complicated. This investigation stunk to high heaven. No doubt the good doctor tied up in the back bedroom thought, so as well.
“I agree.” Tallant plowed his fingers through his hair.
Nora shouldn’t have been so captivated by the move but she was. She was tired. Closing her eyes, she gave herself a shake. She needed sleep. And food.
“Our first priority,” he said, drawing her attention back to him, “should be contacting the agency. Right now we’re operating in the dark, and no one can help us if they have no idea where we are and what we need.”
He had no service on his cell. She had none on hers. He’d suggested she drive out to the main highway and try it from there. She supposed that was the only logical thing to do.
“Wait.” She didn’t realize she’d said the word aloud until he turned to face her. “The doctor’s a local. His carrier may have service out here in the middle of nowhere.”
That nice mouth of his tilted upward on one side. “You may be onto something, Friedman.”
Tallant dashed out to the car and retrieved the doc’s cell, as well as the one he’d taken from the guard. “The guard’s has a pass code, but the doc’s has full service,” he said as he entered the necessary numbers.
About time they had an actual break.
She collapsed on the plaid sofa while he gave Simon Ruhl an update. It would have been nice if he’d chosen the speaker option so she could hear the other end of the conversation, but he hadn’t.
After a few more questions and pauses, Tallant finally ended the call. He placed the doc’s cell phone on the table and sat down next to her.
“Trinity will supposedly be released from detainment within the hour.”
“He’s coming here?” They could use some backup. Particularly if Romero’s people showed up.
“Yes.” Tallant propped his forearms on the knees of his spread thighs. “Unfortunately, that’s where the good news ends.”
“Great.” They couldn’t call the police. One guy—one—was on his way to provide backup. As soon as he was released at the airfield, that was. She and Tallant couldn’t just leave, considering their job was to determine what the hell was going on with Vandiver and Soto and the missing wife. Speaking of which, she asked, “What about Heather?”
“The wife is still missing. There’ve been no hits on public transportation. If she left L.A. via public transit of her own free will, she didn’t do it under her own name. We can’t be certain she’s headed here, but that seems the most logical move.”
Which could possibly mean she hadn’t done anything of her own free will.
Nora exhaled a big breath. “What’re we going to do about Ivan?” He wouldn’t give up. As long as they were within his reach, he represented a lethal threat. Yet they couldn’t leave with this investigation unfinished. With more questions than they’d had before coming to Las Vegas.
Tallant stood, walked over to the dining table. “I’ve been thinking about that.” He picked up the keys to the doctor’s car. “I want you to drive out of here. Don’t stop for anything but gas. Get back to Chicago as quickly as you can. Trinity will be here before long. I’ll be fine until then.”
Nora pushed to her feet. Didn’t say a word until she got toe to toe with him. “Do you really believe I would ditch you? Just drive off into the sunset and leave you with this mess to clean up? Then you don’t know me the way you think you do.”
“Technically you would be driving away from the sunrise.”
“Look.” She stabbed him in that broad chest with her forefinger. “Just because you have a problem with me is no reason to play stupid.”
He folded his hand over hers, capturing the offending finger in a strong grip. “This isn’t about our bickering…before.”
Somehow—maybe she truly had gone stupid—his eyes looked sad…worried. For her. She had to be imagining things. Yeah, he’d saved her butt back there. But she knew exactly where she stood with this guy—at the top of his frustration and irritation list.
“Then what is it about, Mr. I-have-to-prove-I’m-better?” This whole merger had been a bad idea. The Colby Agency investigators always had to come out on top, had to be right, had to be the heroes.
“It’s about saving your life.”
If he hadn’t said it so softly, hadn’t looked at her as if she were his top priority, maybe she wouldn’t have had that deep ache tear through her chest. He couldn’t possibly care what happened to her one way or another.
“If I go back, you win.”
He closed those unusual gold eyes for a moment, as if it hurt too much to look at her. “You win. That’s the way we’ll write it up. I don’t care about that.”
“Forget it.” She pulled her hand free of his and folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not leaving you here to face this insanity alone.” She shook her head. “Not happening.”
“You didn’t want to work with me in the first place,” he offered. “This is your chance to cut your losses. No one will think less of you for doing the smart thing.”
She stared at those nice lips of his, wanted to pretend that she wasn’t desperate to see what they tasted like. “Maybe I will.” She lifted one eyebrow in challenge. “What do you say to that, Mr. Tallant?”
“That it would be the right decision. The smart decision.”
“You really are crazy.” She shook her head, told herself not to do what her entire body was urging her to do. “Fine…I’ll…” She snatched the keys from his
hand. “I’ll just go.”
“Stay off the beaten path,” he advised.
He was willing to let her go—to let her run to safety while he stayed here and played the decoy.
She shoved the keys into his pocket. “No way. I’m not going anywhere.”
He said nothing, just stared at her lips as if he didn’t understand the words she had uttered.
“Stop.”
His gaze lifted to hers. He blinked. “What?”
“Stop staring at my mouth.”
He swallowed visibly. “I…was thinking.”
Yeah, so was she. Usually that was a good thing, but in this case it was a problem.
He said nothing.
She said nothing.
They just stood there staring at each other.
“This is ridiculous.” She grabbed him by the shoulders, went up on tiptoe and kissed him firmly on the mouth.
When she eased back down onto the soles of her feet, he just kept staring at her.
Maybe she should have left.
His arms suddenly went around her waist, pulled her against him, and he kissed her hard…long…deep.
The kiss was worth every moment of frustration and irritation and waiting.
His mouth was hot and firm and damned skilled. He tasted as good as he looked. Her arms found their way around his neck. Her fingers threaded into his hair. She’d wanted to do that for so long.
He lifted her against him. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he turned and lowered her on the table.
She was already unbuttoning his shirt. She needed to touch his skin. The fire he’d ignited raged through her. Made her want to rip off every thread he wore. But just touching his chest…smoothing her palms over that rippled terrain was enough…for now.
Using both hands, he slipped off her shoes, then reached for the zipper of her slacks. She wiggled, the need swelling so fast, she could scarcely control her body’s determination to meld with his.
He dragged the slacks down her legs, off one foot and then the other. He hesitated, stared at her injured ankle. “What happened?”