Sweet Dreams Boxed Set

by Brenda Novak

  “See?” Kade said, still keeping a safe distance from Blane.

  Blane scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to think of which disaster to handle first.

  “We need to get him out of here,” Kade said.

  Blane frowned at him. “Get him out of here? I think you mean to say ‘call the cops,’ right?”

  “That’s a phrase you’ll never hear me say,” Kade snorted. “No, we need to get Ray out of our suite and dump him somewhere.”

  “You’ve got to be joking,” Blane said. “We can’t just go dump a dead body somewhere.”

  “Ray’s dead, he’s not gonna care,” Kade insisted. “And if it gets out that he was found dead in our room, then that’s going to bring all sorts of trouble on our heads. They’ll want what he had.”

  “And what is that exactly?”

  Kade let out a sigh. “I invented a device that could force a payout from a slot machine. Ray was thinking of buying it.”

  “You what?” Blane’s voice was loud and Kade winced. “Please tell me you didn’t actually make something that could do that? Do you have any idea how illegal that would be? And dangerous? If any of the casinos knew—”

  “I know,” Kade interrupted. “But it’s not like I was advertising it. Ray got in touch with me, told me what he was looking for.” He shrugged. “It was a challenge. And total genius the way I did it.”

  His shit-eating grin looked so much like the teenage kid who’d been too smart for his own good that Blane let out a sigh, his anger draining away. No sense being pissed at him. It wouldn’t solve anything.

  “So let me get this straight,” he said. “You found a way to force a slot machine to pay out—”

  “That’s completely undetectable,” Kade added.

  “—and were going to sell it to Ray.”

  “Right. But he wanted to test it first, so that’s what we were meeting about. No one else knows about it. I think.”

  “But he could’ve told someone,” Blane said. “You realize if word would got out about that, you’d have all kinds of targets on your back.” More than he probably already had.

  “How does it work?” Mannie asked. He’s been listening and now stood by Blane, who glanced down at him.

  “In simplified terms,” Kade said, looking incredibly pleased that someone had asked, “a slot machine is an electro-mechanical device that is programmed to randomly stop at spots on the wheel. The stops are already mapped to each outcome, so all that happens when someone plays is it generates a random point in time for the map to stop.

  “The slot machine already knows the outcome while the wheels are spinning. That’s just for show for the player. So while it’s doing that, my device reads where the machine will stop, then sends a tiny magnet pulse that disrupts and overrides the signal, then forces a new outcome based on where the map was going to be. Thus, ensuring a win. It’s incredibly fast and undetectable. To anyone watching, it looks like the player got lucky.”

  Yes, so smart he’s going to get himself killed, Blane thought.

  “So is that were the money came from?” Mannie asked. “All the chips on the table?”

  “No clue,” Kade said with a shrug.

  “Where’s the device now?” Blane asked.

  They all went quiet. The repercussions of something like that being in the hands of just anyone was huge. What if Ray had given it to someone else? Or worse, told someone about Kade? There wasn’t enough protection in the world to keep Kade safe from those who’d do anything to destroy a device like that, and make sure he didn’t produce another.

  Kade pushed between Blane and Mannie on his way to the bathroom. A pile of discarded clothes was on the floor and he pawed through it, checking pockets and shaking out each item.

  “It’s not here,” he said at last, raising his gaze to meet Blane’s. His expression was grim.

  “Well, we have to find it,” Blane said.

  The goose honked a couple of times, reminding them of its presence.

  “Okay,” Kade said, ignoring the noise, “let’s get Ray up and get him dressed. We can start with his business partner.”

  “His partner?”

  “I’ve only met him once,” Kade said, grimacing as he pulled the plug in the water. “He’s Chinese. Extremely rich. Name’s Péng.”

  “And what exactly did Ray and Péng do?” Blane asked, wondering if he really wanted to know the answer.

  “They own roughly sixty-five percent of the online gambling market,” Kade replied.

  And it gets worse.

  “No wonder he was looking for a way to put brick-and-mortar casinos out of the slot machine business,” Blane said.

  “Yep.”

  Kade gripped underneath Ray’s armpits and hauled upward to get him out of the tub, but the body was wet and slippery and he lost his hold. Ray dropped to the floor, half his body in the tub and half out.

  Mannie winced at the noise and Kade looked vaguely put out.

  “Ah, shit,” Blane muttered. Messing with a dead body wasn’t high on his bucket list. Messing with a naked dead body even less so. But it looked like he had no choice.

  Moving forward, he motioned to Ray’s head. “Grab his shoulders. I’ll get the legs. Mannie—”

  “I’m not touching him!” the midget protested. “No way!”

  “Just get his clothes,” Blane said.

  Together, he and Kade maneuvered the body out of the bathroom.

  “Don’t put him on my bed,” Kade said, stopping in his tracks as Blane backed into the bedroom. “That’s gross. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

  “You actually think we’re going to be staying another night?” Blane asked, exasperated.

  Kade considered this. “True.” He tossed his side of the body onto the mattress as Blane set the legs down and shoved the body further so it wouldn’t slide onto the floor.

  “C’mon,” Blane said, taking the slacks from Mannie. “You do the shirt.”

  “He’s going commando?” Kade asked.

  “Do you want to put underwear on a dead guy?”

  Apparently, Kade thought he had a point because he didn’t say anything else, just grabbed the shirt and suit jacket.

  It was like dressing a particularly heavy and cold life-size doll, and took a surprising amount of effort. Blane found himself slightly out of breath when he was done. He managed the socks and shoes, then stood back to survey their work.

  “You can still tell he’s dead,” Mannie said. He’d watched silently through the whole process.

  Turning to the table next to the bed, Kade grabbed a pair of sunglasses that had been sitting there and slid them on Ray’s face.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  Sort of. Blane figured if they put him between them, he could pass for a guy who’d partied a little too hard. They’d just need to move fast and not give anyone the opportunity to look too close.

  “All right. That’s as good as he’s going to get,” Blane said. He tucked in his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair, the unfamiliar weight of the ring on his hand reminding him that there was still the problem of an unremembered and unwanted marriage. “Check my credit card,” he said to Kade. “If I paid for anything we did last night, there’ll be a paper trail.”

  “Good idea. Gimme five minutes.”

  Blane glanced at Mannie as Kade left the room, no doubt looking for his ever-present laptop.

  “Leave your number and I’ll make sure he gets that audition information for you,” Blane said.

  Mannie shook his head. “I’ll stay.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “Oh, I believe you,” Mannie said. “But I don’t want to miss this. Way better way to spend a Saturday than anything I had planned.”

  Blane just shook his head. “Whatever.” If he wanted to stick around, Blane didn’t really care. He had bigger things to worry about than a bored midget.

  “Found the name and address of the wedding chapel,” Kade said, appear
ing back in the doorway.

  “Let’s go,” Blane said, relieved. They’d have a record of the marriage, including a name.

  He got on one side of the bed and Kade on the other. Between the two of them, they got Ray on his feet, but Blane immediately spotted the problem.

  “His head won’t stay up,” Mannie piped up.

  “No shit,” Kade said.

  Blane propped Ray’s head against him, but then it lolled back.

  “You need one of those neck pillows,” Mannie suggested.

  Blane looked pointedly at Kade, who rolled his eyes. “Fine. There’s one in the foyer on the table. Grab it.”

  Kade and Blane took Ray into the living room and Mannie scampered over with Kade’s travel pillow. He handed it to Blane who hooked it around Ray’s neck, which did the trick.

  “Told ya!” Mannie said, looking pleased.

  This was probably the most bizarre and surreal thing Blane had ever done, pretending a dead man was alive, but what choice did they have? Kade was right, they had to get him out of here and Ray didn’t know the difference. It wasn’t like they’d killed him.

  “Put the Do Not Disturb on the door,” he told Mannie as they left the suite. No way did he want a maid stumbling across all that money, or the goose, who hissed at them as they passed by. Mean little shit.

  “You’re going too fast,” Kade complained as they walked down the hall, Ray’s limp arms slung over their shoulders.

  Blane bit back the retort that sprang to his lips. Fighting would get them nowhere. Yet he couldn’t help saying, “Oh, should I go slower so people can get a good look at the obvious corpse we’re carrying?”

  He didn’t answer and Blane felt a smidge of remorse for his sarcasm, until Kade muttered, “I thought men mellowed after they got married.”

  Chapter Three

  Traversing the endless lobby of the MGM seemed to take forever. The thought of what would happen if someone realized they were sneaking a dead body past scores of people and banks of security cameras had a cold sweat breaking out on Blane’s forehead.

  “Are we supposed to put him in a cab or something?” he hissed to Kade.

  “I’ve got my car,” Mannie piped up, brandishing a valet ticket.

  “Guess the midget’s gonna drive,” Kade said.

  “Don’t call me that,” Mannie snapped. “It’s rude.”

  Kade snorted. “Fine. What should I call you? Half-pint? Munchkin? Vertically challenged? No, lemme guess…Sneezy.”

  If Blane could’ve kicked Kade, he would have. All Mannie had to do was yell and point and they’d be spending God only knew how long in a Vegas jail trying to explain what they couldn’t even remember. Thankfully, Mannie didn’t do that.

  “We prefer Little People, or LP for short,” Mannie said.

  “Really?” Kade asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  Kade shrugged. “I think that’s worse. Midget or dwarf sounds way cooler.”

  Mannie looked thoughtful. “You think so?”

  “I’m just saying, if it was me, ‘little’ would be the last adjective I’d want somebody calling me.”

  “Kade,” Blane hissed. “Will you just shut the fuck up?”

  Kade shifted Ray’s arm across his shoulder. “Fine. Whatever. Just saying.”

  Mannie jogged ahead to give his ticket to the valet while Blane and Kade stood to the side, dead guy between them, and tried to be casual. To Blane’s discomfort, way too many people looked twice.

  “People are watching,” he said in an undertone to Kade.

  “Probably should’ve cleaned up first,” Kade mused. “You still have blood on your shirt.”

  Blane glanced down and grimaced. Kade was right. Shit.

  “Maybe your wife knows how to get that stain out.”

  “Knock it off,” Blane groused.

  Kade grinned, unrepentant.

  The valet pulled up a two-door purple Scion. Neither man paid attention…until Mannie hurried forward to the driver’s side.

  “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Blane growled. How they were going to get two grown men and a dead body into the car, he had no idea.

  “I call shotgun,” Kade said.

  Fuck.

  ***

  Blane shoved Ray’s leg further onto his side. They were squeezed so tight in the back seat, that Ray’s position would have been anatomically impossible had he been alive rather than dead. Blane felt slightly guilty for being glad that Ray’s body wasn’t yet fully suffering from rigor mortis. He could tell it was happening though. They didn’t have much longer before he’d be stiff as a board.

  So to speak.

  “Where are we going?” he asked. Please don’t say the Elvis Chapel. Please don’t say the Elvis Chapel. Please don’t—

  “Little Church of the West,” Kade said.

  Thank God.

  “I’m starving. Let’s run through a drive-thru.”

  Blane stared at Kade. “Tell me you’re not serious. Don’t we have more important things to worry about?”

  “It’ll only take a minute,” Kade said, pointing Mannie toward a McDonalds. “You don’t want to meet your bride on an empty stomach, do you?”

  Blane grunted, grudgingly admitting that he was hungry, too. Thirty bucks, six burgers, super-size fries, and mega Cokes later, he felt better.

  “How can you guys eat with a dead guy in the car?” Mannie asked, wrinkling his nose at them in disgust. “He stinks.”

  Ray was starting to smell, but it didn’t really bother Blane, or Kade, it seemed. He thought it was probably because they’d both been around dead bodies before. Blane when he was in the Navy and deployed to the front lines of Afghanistan, and Kade…well, Kade usually had a hand in the dead bodies he came across.

  They pulled up to a little wooden church and Mannie parked. Blane climbed out after Kade, stretching his back and the crick in his neck.

  Heading up the walkway, they stopped in their tracks when the doors opened and a bride and groom came out. The bride dressed in a white gown with a billowing skirt, the groom in a suit and tie. She carried a bouquet of pink roses and they were holding hands, grins on both their faces. The groom pulled her to a stop for a long kiss.

  “Aw, look at that,” Kade sneered. “So sweet, I may vomit.”

  Blane led the way around the still-kissing couple and headed inside.

  It was small, but nice, for what it was. A woman was standing by a small desk in the corner, going through some papers. She glanced up when they walked in.

  “Sorry, gentlemen,” she said brusquely. “We don’t perform same sex marriages here, but I can give you a list of places that do.” She turned away and began rummaging through a drawer in the desk.

  Mannie snorted and Kade just looked appalled. Blane stepped up.

  “Actually, we’re not looking to get married,” he said. “I was here last night.”

  The woman stopped and glanced at him, then her eyes narrowed. “You’re right. I remember you. Last wedding of the night, and a big tipper. Much appreciated.”

  Blane smiled tightly. “You’re welcome. I was wondering…” How did someone say this tactfully and without sounding like a total douche? You didn’t, so he just blurted it out. “Do you know who I married?”

  A sentence he never thought he’d say.

  To his relief, the woman laughed. “You’d be surprised how often we get that,” she said. “Hold on, let me dig out your paperwork. I remember her, though. Sweet little thing. Think she’d had a few too many glasses of champagne though. Ya’ll seemed pretty enamored of each other. Could barely keep your hands off long enough to say your vows.”

  Blane winced at the mental picture she was painting. “I don’t seem to recall.”

  Pulling out a sheaf of papers, she handed them to him. “Her name was Amy,” she said.

  “Who’s Amy?” Kade asked him. Blane shot him a look. Hell if he knew.

  “If you’re having second thoughts,” she contin
ued, “we have a 24-hour buyer’s remorse policy. For an additional two hundred and fifty dollars, we’ll destroy the paperwork and not file it with the state, effectively annulling the marriage.”

  “How convenient,” Kade said, but Blane was already pulling out his wallet.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing over the cash.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said. “You can keep the papers, if you’d like.”

  Blane turned to go, but she stopped him.

  “Oh wait, you forgot this last night.” She handed him a photograph. “It was complimentary with your package.”

  “Was there a prenup, too?” Kade asked. Blane grabbed his arm, propelling him out the door as Mannie followed.

  “Hey, man, I’m just looking out for you,” Kade said, snatching the picture from him. “Holy shit.” Kade froze and Blane nearly ran into him.

  “What?” Blane asked, grabbing the photo back. He took a good look at it, his entire body going rigid in shock.

  The girl was a tiny blonde, a tentative smile on her face as Blane’s arm rested on her shoulders and hers around his waist.

  And she was obviously very pregnant.

  “Whoa, dude,” Mannie breathed.

  “A wife and a kid. That’s like, two birds, right?”

  Blane didn’t even hear Kade, his gaze fixed on the photo. What the hell had he been thinking? Who was this girl and why had he married her?

  He slid the photo into his pocket, noting that it must have been taken before whatever fight he’d gotten into, because he still wore his jacket and his face was unscathed.

  Mannie unlocked the car and when they opened the doors, the smell had them all taking a step back.

  “Why the hell did you lock up the car?” Kade asked. “No one wants to steal a crappy purple Scion.”

  “It’s a very popular color,” Mannie retorted, holding his nose.

  Kade muttered something under his breath, then waited for Blane to climb in.

  “Start saving now for my Christmas present, little bro,” Blane said. “I’ve got a helluva list.”

  For once, Kade kept his mouth shut. Probably because he suspected Blane would stuff him in the back seat with little provocation. He knew how far to push Blane…and when to shut the fuck up before he got his ass kicked.