“Good. What about the missing agents?”
“Working on it. I’ve managed to enlist somebody on the inside of Mike’s organization. We’re moving forward, but there’s nothing concrete.”
“Lean on your insider if you have to. You’ve got to come up something. You been working on this for months, and you don’t have squat. My boss’s been breathing down my neck because we haven’t found them yet.”
Dozer sighed. “I know, boss. Believe me, I’m working on it.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”
After Dozer hung up the phone, he leaned back in his chair and reached for his copy of Emily’s personnel file. He studied her background information for a few minutes, then phoned one of his men.
“Nick? It’s Dozer. Got a special assignment for you. Get with your contacts in the records division and have them run an in-depth check on a woman named Emily Sane. See if you can dig up anything.”
“Sure thing, boss” Nick Pernger replied. “You gonna be in your office?”
“I’ll be here until eight o’clock,” Dozer replied. “Keep your inquiry low key, and call my cell phone when you’re done. I’ll swing by and pick up the info.”
“Okay. I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks.” Dozer gave him the particulars from Emily’s file, then disconnected the call. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at Emily’s identification photo for a moment, wondering if she had any connection to the counterfeit ring or if she was simply an innocent bystander caught off guard. He decided it didn’t really matter, because once Nick finished his investigation, he’d know everything there was to know about Miss Emily Sane, including any dirty little secrets she might be trying to hide.
Chapter Thirteen
When Glen rang the doorbell, Emily coaxed her lips into her best apologetic smile. “Hi. Sorry I’m so late.”
He stepped inside. “No problem. I understand about getting caught up at work. It happens to me all the time.”
She tried to keep the drool she felt pooling in her mouth from dripping down her chin. God, he looked good enough to eat, dressed in that charcoal gray suit. Talk about eye candy! Yeow! And—he was nice, to boot, giving her the benefit of a doubt about being late. She tried to direct her attention away from his mouth and back to the conversation. Pay attention. You don’t want him to think you’re an idiot, do you? Focus, girl, focus. She blinked a few times and tried to make sense of his words.
“They have a great restaurant. Is that okay?”
Since she didn’t have the slightest clue what he was talking about, she nodded and smiled.
As they approached the parking lot, a sleek white limousine slid to a halt in front of them. “Don’t tell me you rented a limo,” Emily blurted out, eyeing the vehicle.
“Wasn’t me,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “I wonder who it’s for.”
“It’s mine,” said a laughing voice.
They spun around to find Kate walking up behind them. “Nice wheels,” Glen remarked, trying to keep his eyes focused on Kate’s face.
Kate laughed again, but this time her laughter was more sarcastic. “Paybacks are such fun.”
Emily snickered. “Let me guess—the ambassador thing!”
Kate’s eyes twinkled and she flashed Emily a wicked grin. “Yep. Not only is this limo mine for the next two nights, I even have a new designer outfit.”
“You did good.” Emily eyed the woman’s aqua blue dress, which clung to Kate’s hourglass figure like a second skin. A spider-web lace overlay covered the top half, gradually fading away as the silky material flowed toward Kate’s feet. “You have exquisite taste, Kate. Remind me to come see you when I want to get even with somebody,” Emily teased.
“What’s the joke?” Glen asked, puzzled.
Kate and Emily laughed in unison and shook their heads. His frown deepened, and Kate reached out to pat his arm. “Sorry, Glen, private joke. You wouldn’t understand if I told you,” she teased as she glided toward the waiting limo.
The driver remained behind the wheel. “Looks like my driver needs a few lessons in limo etiquette.” Kate turned to stare at the two of them. “How about a lift? I’m going to the Devil’s Lair, but the driver can drop you off.”
“No, thanks,” Glen answered quickly. “See ya.” He escorted Emily to his Tahoe, then slid behind the wheel. “Care to explain the joke?” he asked in a tone devoid of humor.
Emily shook her head and smiled. “It was one of those ‘you had to be there to enjoy it’ things. We weren’t laughing at you, honest.”
He remained silent, and she turned to stare out the window, realizing that the ambiance between them had somehow taken a downward turn. Typical, she thought, shaking her head. Let two women share a private joke, and every male in sight thinks they’re laughing at him. What is it with men, anyway?
The glass panel between the driver and the rear of the limo slid down a few moments after Glen and Emily walked away. “That was a close call,” the driver said.
Kate filled her glass with champagne and placed the bottle of Dom Perignon back into the ice bucket. “What on earth are you talking about?” she asked, leaning back into the overstuffed leather seat.
“The woman. It was Emily Sane, right? She knows me.”
Kate glared at the back of his head. “So? What the hell did you think you were doing? The least you could have done was hold the door for me.”
“Sorry, Ms. Avrill, but I couldn’t chance being recognized.”
Suddenly suspicious, Kate narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, staring at his reflection in the rear view mirror. “How do you know Emily? She’s not a Fed, is she?”
“No. I met her through the Emerald Lagoon’s Employee Orientation. Part of my cover is that I give lectures on how to spot counterfeit money.”
“Oh yeah, right.” She eased back into the seat. “Since Emily knows you work for the Secret Service, won’t that put a kink in your posing as my limo driver?”
“Not if she doesn’t spot me. I’ll think of a good cover story in case she sees me.” He tilted the mirror so that he could watch her. “How well do you know her?”
Kate refilled her glass. “She’s my neighbor. We say hello and that’s it.”
“Make sure she doesn’t find out you’re working with us. The fewer people who know, the better.”
Kate stared out the tinted window for a few moments, silently sipping her champagne. “What do I have to do? We’re almost at the hotel. If you’re going to give me any instructions, you’d better get on with it.”
Agent Dozer flung his right arm across the panel opening and dangled a gold watch. A row of tiny diamonds surrounded the circular timepiece. Two small sapphires highlighted the numbers twelve and six. “Put this on.”
She eyed the watch with distaste. “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s awful—definitely not my style of jewelry. My taste runs to large stones. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that ugly thing.”
He slowed their speed. “Look, Ms. Avrill, I’m sorry you think it’s ugly, but it’s important that you wear it. We have to test it to make sure there’s no bugs. If this works, it’ll be similar to the one you’ll use to try and record Mike’s conversation. We have to find out what happened to those missing agents.”
She snatched the watch and slapped it onto her wrist.
“Be careful, Ms. Avrill. That happens to have a three hundred thousand dollar price tag.”
“Fine. Just remember that I’m only helping you out of the goodness of my heart. The minute I think I’m getting in over my head, I’m quitting this gig. Get it? I’m sorry about your missing agents, but staying alive is more important than making sure you tape Mike’s conversations. I know that sounds heartless, but that’s the way it is.”
“I appreciate your help, and we’re doing everything we can to keep you safe. We’ll be at the hotel in about three minutes, so make sure you close the safety catch. That watch is the only one we have. It
has a range of five blocks, so don’t stray too far or I’ll lose the signal. Do you see the winding stem? That’s what turns the system on and off. To start recording, simply pull the stem out and twist it upward one full turn. In addition to moving the hour hand ahead, it also flashes the ‘begin recording’ signal to the remote recorder. You’ll see one tiny flash. That lets you know the recorder has started taping. When you see the flash, simply push the stem back in. To stop recording, pull out the stem and twist it downward one full turn. That moves the hour hands back, and sends the ‘stop recording’ signal. The watch face will flash one more time.
"Don’t worry, the flash isn’t bright, so nobody will notice. Then, once you see the second flash, simply push the stem back in and go about your business. I’ll keep the recorder in the limo. Start recording at nine o’clock and keep it going for thirty minutes. At nine-thirty, turn it off. Think you can do it?"
She snorted. “Of course I can. What do you think I am—a moron? The watch does tell time, right?”
He nodded, ignoring her sarcasm. “We’re here. You ready?”
“Yes.”
“Sit tight, and I’ll open the door. Good luck.”
The glass partition reappeared as the limo slid to a halt. This time Dozer got out and walked around to the passenger door. As Kate exited the vehicle, he tipped his fingers to his hat in a mock salute.
Emily took one look at the expression on Glen’s face and wondered how she was going to recapture the easy-going mood they’d experienced before meeting Kate. She turned toward him. “I love this time of day in the desert. It’s so…refreshing, with the gorgeous sunset and cooler temperature.”
“Yeah, I love the nighttime. But I like the part of the desert that’s away from the strip. With all the bright lights you can’t see anything else.”
“Me, too. I’d much rather be away from town. Solitude appeals to me more than being in a crowded room.”
His frown disappeared, and a smile took its place. “I wish I’d known. If you’d said something earlier, I wouldn’t have booked us a table at the Micasso.”
She couldn’t contain her gasp of surprise. “I can’t believe we’re going to Vegas’ most exclusive restaurant!”
His grin widened. “The chef’s a friend of mine, and he’s promised to whip us something special.”
Emily reached out and touched his arm. “Oh my God, Glen. I had no idea you were taking me to the Micasso. You didn’t have to do that.”
“No problem, Emily. Besides, I thought you’d like to see the paintings.”
“I love Picasso’s works.”
He draped an arm casually across her shoulders as they walked toward the restaurant. “Well, don’t expect me to take you here every time we go out,” he teased. “The next time it might be hamburgers and fries.”
She laughed. “No problem. I happen to be a fast food aficionado.”
As they were being escorted to their table, she couldn’t keep her gaze off the numerous paintings.
“Since I know the chef, I’ll order. Okay?” Glen asked as the waiter appeared with their bottle of champagne.
Absorbed in the paintings, Emily nodded. “Go ahead.” When her dazed mind returned to some semblance of normalcy, she found Glen grinning at her. “They must have spent a fortune on this place.”
“They did. It took a lot of time and money, but I think the end result was worth it.”
She nodded eagerly, lifting her eyes to the cove ceilings, then taking in the carefully placed tables, immaculate linen tablecloths, and sedately upholstered chairs. The upscale restaurant was the perfect blend of elegant, but understated, luxury. “You couldn’t have picked a better restaurant. It’s wonderful."
He filled their glasses with champagne and set the bottle back in its silver ice bucket. The amber liquid flowed down Emily’s throat and lit a fire in her veins. “Excellent champagne,” she said, placing her glass on the table. She smiled at him and toyed with her salad fork. “What are we eating?” she asked. “I’m afraid I was so dazzled by the paintings I didn’t hear you order.”
“I’ve ordered the Chef’s Platter, and Julian has promised to make it a truly exceptional dining experience.”
Emily watched the crinkle of his eyes as he laughed and decided to raise their little game to another level. “Let me get this straight. You’ve taken me to Nevada’s finest restaurant, plied me with expensive champagne, and had the master chef cook up something extra special for dinner? You certainly have gone to a lot of trouble. Are you planning to seduce me?”
He dabbed his napkin against his mouth. “That’s what I like about you, Emily. You’re so subtle.”
“I try.”
He waved away the waiter hovering in the background. Once he’d refilled his glass and topped off Emily’s, he leaned forward and made direct eye contact. “Actually there is a reason I’ve brought you here. It’s to butter you up. I have a proposition for you.”
Emily did her best to cover her surprise. She set her glass on the linen tablecloth and dropped her gaze to her hands. “I’m disappointed in you, Glen,” she whispered in a voice tinged with regret. “I know I haven’t been divorced all that long, but surely you could have waited until after dinner before you propositioned me.” She lifted her gaze to his. “And, not to put too fine a point on it, but you could have done it with a little more finesse.”
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “Emily, I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about business.”
Stunned, she could only gape at him. “Oh.”
He smiled. “I never mix business with pleasure. That’s a bad combination. This is strictly business. Besides, did you really think I’d be so blunt if sex was what I was after? Surely you think I have a little more class than that.”
She withdrew her hand from his, stunned and stung by his explanation. He didn’t want to go to bed with her; he wanted something else. “Why go into business with me?” she asked. “I’m a floral designer, for Heaven’s sakes! What do I have that you could possibly want?”
Glen poured the rest of the champagne into his glass and stuck the empty bottle into the ice bucket. Moments later their first course arrived.
“Well?” Emily demanded once the waiter was out of earshot. “I’m waiting. What’s so important that you had to wine and dine me before talking about it?”
Glen sampled his food, then sipped his champagne. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold,” he ordered. “We’ll talk later. Maybe then you’ll be in a better frame of mind.”
Emily pushed her plate to one side. “I’m not hungry,” she said in a defiant tone. To her surprise, instead of reacting to her statement, he reached across the table and snitched one of her poached oysters.
“Fine,” he said between bites. “You can sit there and stew while I eat. I’m not going let an excellent meal go to waste because you’ve decided to act childish.”
“Me—childish?” she sputtered. She snatched her plate out of his reach and stabbed at an oyster, wincing as her silverware clanged against the bottom of the serving dish. “Now look what you made me do,” she snapped. She made a point of scooting her plates close to her body as each remaining course was served, taking time to glare at him between bites. “I’m still mad at you,” she whispered, finishing off the last of her crab salad.
He glanced at her, unperturbed. “Well, at least you’ve eaten. Be sure and let me know when you’re ready to act like an adult, and I’ll tell you what I have in mind.”
She considered stomping out in a huff, then decided that an undignified exit wasn’t the answer. Swallowing her anger and disappointment, she slashed at her dessert with her fork and was startled when Glen reached out and covered her hand with his.
“I’d rather not have to replace the china.”
“Better the dessert plate than your hand,” she hissed.
“Lady, you’re something else, do you know that?” He placed his hand palm-down along side her plate. “Here, if it
makes you feel any better, go ahead.”
Tempted, she picked up her fork, then lowered it onto her plate. “No thanks,” she said in her sweetest tone. “Blood might spatter on my dress. My dry cleaner told me that the next time I brought in an outfit with blood on it, I’d have to go somewhere else. No man’s worth losing a good dry cleaner over.”
Laughing, he retracted his hand. “I’m glad to see you’ve finally recovered your sense of humor.”
She flashed him a wicked grin. “Just because I’ve recovered my sense of humor doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. I’m still not happy with you.”
“How about a walk?” he asked, signaling for the bill. “There’s a beautifully landscaped walkway that circles the hotel’s arboretum.”
“Sure, why not?”
As they walked along the lighted pathway, Glen kept his distance. “Friends again?”
“No.”
He guided her to a secluded bench. “Let me explain what I meant when I said I had a business proposition for you.”
She held up a hand in protest. “Do you have to?”
He slid his arm across the back of the bench and inched closer. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for any money, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he whispered in a soft voice.
Emily ignored the warm breath on the back of her neck. “All right,” she sighed. “Let’s get it over with. The sooner you tell me, the sooner we can go home.”
He glanced around, making sure they were alone. “I know about your unusual talent,” he began. Ignoring her gasp of surprise, he continued. “I’ve known about it for weeks. I was at the Indian Casino in El Cajon when they brought you in for questioning.”
Emily stared at him, too stunned to speak. “I didn’t see you. Where…where were you?”
“In the security office. I give facial recognition system training to casinos in my spare time. I was about to start a training session when you caught security’s attention.”
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