Eddie LaCall wasn’t exactly what the department had deemed suitable ‘agent material’ with his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He looked more like a renegade Native American. And in a lot of ways, Gabe guessed he was. But he was honest, straightforward and reliable—at least that’s the recommendation that had come with him from the Phoenix office.
“Rio…” Gabe shuddered at the thought of having to explain Rio Laraquette to anyone. “She’s a complicated person. She’s never had a partner. Never wanted one. And she won’t want one now,” he said. “So, if you’ll bear with her, until she gets over the initial surprise…because she is without a doubt, the best agent I’ve ever seen.” He gave his opinion, one he’d never openly admitted to her. “And I know you guys are going to work beautifully together.”
Eddie had a feeling this was going to bite him in the butt. New partners was always tough. But there was nothing tougher than a partner that didn’t want to be paired up. Oh well, at least it was a girl. Hopefully she wouldn’t be immune to his charms.
The front entrance of The Grill opened up and a hot redhead walked in. Alice Cooper was blaring over the sound system.
Could it be? God, he hoped so.
She scanned the bar until her eyes lit on Eddie’s new boss, Gabe. She smiled and headed toward him.
Well, all right. Opportunities like this didn’t come along every day. He sized her up with a smile. “Hum…”
She stopped between Eddie and Gabe. When her gaze landed on Eddie, a smile brightened her already gorgeous face.
Eddie’s heart fluttered with feelings he never knew he had. Suddenly, a profound infatuation awakened from somewhere deep within his soul.
He stood to greet her, offering a hand and a smile. She slipped her palm against his and the shook hands. Neither of them attempted to let go of the connection.
“You’re the partner…” she said, remembering Tajan’s prophesy in her vision quest. It hadn’t made since when she’d heard him say it, but...was it possible? Rio hadn’t missed the notion that this guy looked as much like Tajan as she did Maggie.
“Yes, I’m your new partner.” He gave her a nod and searched her eyes, as if looking for approval. “You okay with that?”
“Are you kidding?” Her delightful laughter filled the space around her. “This is great.” She jabbed her elbow into Gabe’s side, and whispered, “Get out of the way.”
Gabe got up and Rio sat down in his seat. She turned back to Eddie, who still had his hand wrapped around hers.
Gabe moved back and stood between them. After a moment’s pause, he gave a half-smile that suggested he was congratulating himself on this successful endeavor. “Rio Laraquette…Eddie LaCall.” He gestured between them. “You guys are now officially partners. Have dinner on me and get to know one another.” He turned and walked away.
Neither of them paid attention to Gabe as he disappeared outside the restaurant.
Eddie was happily engaged with Rio. He latched onto her other hand—the one he wasn’t already holding—and examined it. It was her left hand. He let his gaze travel slowly back up to meet hers. “No rings?”
She gave a one-sided shrug. “No husband, either.”
Eddie LaCall knew in an instant that his sole purpose for coming to Vegas had been derailed. But, as far as derailings go, Rio Laraquette was going to be an interesting one.
###
Thank you for taking the time to read BROKEN WINGS, book one in the Soul Searchers series. If you’re so inclined, I’d like to offer a couple of excerpts from my other books. One is from VEGAS, BABY (Soul Searchers: Book Two). The other is STAKED, the opening book of a brand new series called the Time Brokers.
~~~~
VEGAS, BABY
Soul Searchers: Book 2
By
Sandra Edwards
~~~~
PROLOGUE
The Council of Souls
Present Day
The Council’s gavel echoed through the infinite courtroom. The defendants: Souls A6-21684 and L3-38742 were “old” by Time’s standard and had been attached to many humans. But on this day only two of the souls’ assignments were important. Soul A6-21684 and its human counterparts Maggie Fuller and Rio Laraquette. And, L3-38742’s assigned beings known as the warrior Tajan and Eddie LaCall.
Both had been accused of “enlightening” Rio Laraquette of her existence in another lifetime in the form of Maggie Fuller. If found guilty, the penalty would not be pleasant.
The Supreme Being laid the gavel on the podium. “Before rendering the preapproved verdict, new evidence has been reported by the Commission of Destiny.” The Deity’s gaze landed on one defendant and journeyed across the open expanse to land on the other, A6-21684—who had tried to take full responsibility for the infraction, thereby sparing its counterpart—soul mate—any liability. A sentimental, yet predictable, act that would undoubtedly go uncelebrated by everyone except perhaps L3-38742. “According to the Commission’s findings, neither soul is responsible for the breach in timelines perpetrated on Rio Laraquette.”
“Then who is?” a small voice at the far side of the jury asked.
“No one,” said the Supreme Being. “Before either soul revealed the truth, a kiss of fate had been bestowed upon the young woman when she happened upon the place where her soul had lived in a previous life.”
“So what do we do?” someone else on the panel asked.
“Leave her be,” another judge suggested. “It matters little.”
“Unless the souls are scheduled to reunite.” The Supreme Being’s words caused a hush to fall over the courtroom.
The accused souls’ eyes met, locked, and their faces lit with smiles.
“I have reviewed the subject’s future,” said the Supreme Being. “It is the court’s opinion that if she remains in an enlightened state it will impede her chances of living a productive life. Therefore, it is the ruling of this court that when Rio Laraquette falls asleep on this night all traces that she was once Maggie Fuller in a former life will be erased permanently from her psyche.”
“What about her cousin, Billy Tajan?” a jury member asked.
“He is not an issue.” The Supreme Being’s voice echoed across the panel. “Once it becomes clear to him that Maggie Fuller is nothing more to Rio than their common ancestor with whom she bears a strong resemblance, he will stop believing the truths that have been shown to him.”
~~~~
Chapter 1
Las Vegas, Nevada
One Week Later
An eerie wind swept across the desert, whispering an omen that Eddie LaCall chose to ignore. He’d taken the Vegas gig for a change of pace, not to get spooked by superstition buried deep in his Navajo roots. Eddie disregarded the ghostly voices in favor of something more tangible. Catching the bad guys.
That’s why he’d been camped out all evening at Lou’s Café, a dump on the outskirts of town off the 15. The only thing this place was good for was setting up a sting. Nobody came for the food.
An overbearing aroma of burnt toast and strong coffee emanated from the back, the main reason Eddie had claimed a table near the door. The stench devoured his appetite.
He checked his watch. His perp had been in the john a long time. Eddie had run across his share of fast-talking criminals but Johnny Bellmore possessed a special kind of BS, one requiring practice and forethought.
Eddie scanned the diner. Two men seated at the counter, scarfing down burgers and fries, laughed between themselves. Another dined alone in a booth, and Eddie took him for a truck driver who’d been out on the road too long. Nobody but a homesick fool gobbled up Lonnie’s Meatloaf Special with such eager delight. Eddie had tried it two days ago and his stomach was still paying the price.
Lesson learned.
The waitress, Mary Beth, was on first name terms with Bellmore. That meant Eddie’s perp frequented this dump on a regular basis. Figures. He’d never understood the thought processes of the criminal mind. If he w
ere a crook, he’d never do the deal in his own backyard. But Bellmore, like most reprobates, didn’t hold logic in high regard.
Mary Beth had been making eyes at Eddie for the last ten minutes. She maneuvered closer and squeezed past him, brushing her hips against his arm. Cheap perfume mingled with the smell of burgers and smothered the space around him with a thick nauseating vapor. The repulsive scent weighted his gut like lead.
Eddie’s perp exited the john and made his way across the diner. Bellmore hurried to the other side of the table and displayed that smug grin Eddie had come to loathe. He was going to enjoy ruining this guy’s life.
“All I’m saying, Tonto, is…” Bellmore picked up the conversation right where he’d left off before heading to the john. “You’re out of your league.”
Eddie bit back the urge to bitch-slap the guy.
For now.
Bellmore shook his head and waved his hands. His short, stubby fingers, weathered with time and neglect, landed against his face and stroked his dark straggly mustache. Wisps of grimy black hair peeked from under a San Francisco Giants baseball cap that was positioned perfectly to hide the upper portion of Bellmore’s face.
They needed a clear picture and Eddie needed a leg up on his smart-mouthed perp. He inched his hand across the table and laid claim to Bellmore’s steak knife with the tip of his forefinger. His attention remained fixed on his target as he dragged the eating utensil toward him in a deliberate, slow crawl. Without blinking, he snatched the knife and flung it at Bellmore, snagging his cap and pinning it to the wall.
Bellmore grabbed his bare head and whipped around, looking for his hat. “Freaking-A, Kemo Sabe.” He bounced back, gawking at Eddie with eyes ballooned by agitated surprise.
“You’re the one sweating, not me.”
“Huh?”
“You called me a soggy bush.”
“What?”
“A soggy bush. Kemo Sabe. It means soggy bush.”
Bellmore’s cool, aloof manner returned. “Are you sure?”
Not really, no. Eddie had no idea what Kemo Sabe meant. He’d bet Bellmore didn’t either. “I’m sure.”
The perp propped his hands on his thighs, tilted his head and looked at Eddie. He smirked, arrogance pouring out of his creepy grin.
Eddie flexed his hands and bunched them into fists at his sides. No, not yet. He couldn’t take him down, not until he got what he’d come for. Then he’d turn his new partner loose on Bellmore. That’s what this ill-mannered punk deserved, a little one-on-one time with Ms. Rio Laraquette—the most uptight, albeit beautiful, woman Eddie had ever met.
“Did you come here to do business or run your mouth?” Eddie raked his palm over his hair and loosened his ponytail. His head was starting to hurt.
“Okay, chief, show me the money.”
“I’ll show you the money when you show me the goods.” Eddie rocked the chair onto its back legs and folded his arms over his chest.
Bellmore shook his head and his bottom lip jutted out like he had chewing tobacco stuffed in his mouth. “Dude, you’re just a local player.” His gaze journeyed toward the door. “I don’t think you can come up with the cash…” His voice trailed off and his jaw dropped, Bellmore’s interest fixated on the diner’s entrance.
Eddie’s new partner waltzed into the diner. Her black skirt could’ve been a tube top once upon a time, until some hooker got hold of one and decided it was better served showing off her southern assets. A little red tank top clung to her curves like a thin layer of paint slathered over her breasts.
Rio Laraquette was all about looking the part. “If I’m going to play a hooker,” she’d said. “I need to look like one.” And she did. Granted, a high-priced one, but a hooker no less.
Being the new guy, Eddie couldn’t understand why nobody wanted to work with her. Rio was damn good at her job.
She strutted by and Eddie tilted his head, enjoying the view. Her legs, long and lean and looking good, streamed out from beneath her skimpy get-up. The good guy in him harnessed the bad and he checked his animal instincts.
“Hey, Tonto.” Bellmore’s voice barged into his thoughts. Eddie looked at his perp, but Bellmore’s eyes were on Rio. “Ain’t that your bitch, man?”
Eddie shot up and kicked the chair, slamming it against the floor with a loud WHACK. For a split-second Bellmore winced.
“You call me that again,” Eddie warned. “And I’ll kill you.”
Bellmore didn’t move. He sat frozen, his face frightened yet determined.
Eddie turned away. He had one chance to make this believable, and he was thankful Bellmore couldn’t see his face as he charged after Rio like a stampeding herd of buffalo, despite his tormenting hesitation.
Sensible judgment eluded him as he latched onto her arm and swung her against the wall. She landed with a thud, convincing him he’d been too harsh. “Sorry,” he mouthed, barely above a whisper.
Rio gave him a tolerant and forgiving smile. She winked and dragged a handful of strawberry-blonde curls out of her face. She had on a lot of makeup. The excessive eye shadow took away from the allure of her jade-green eyes.
“No, baby,” she said, in character. “I swear, I just need to use the toilet. I’m going right back out.”
“You better hurry up and get your ass back out there.” He gave her an appeasing wink.
A giggle resonated from Rio, lighting her half-opened eyes. She wriggled past him and disappeared into the ladies room.
Eddie cursed his luck. What were the odds of coming to Vegas and getting saddled with a partner who sent his pulses racing? Desire rumbled over him and he pushed it aside. He shouldn’t go there—no matter how much he wanted to—it was a bad idea.
He strode back to the table. A stoic face camouflaged the irritability grinding his teeth. He drew a wad of cash from his jacket pocket and tossed it at Bellmore. “I got plenty of money.” He yanked the chair off the floor and settled into it with a mocking nuance. “But I want to see the guns first.”
“Ton—dude.” Splicing the two words together, Bellmore was unable to contain his nervous cackle. “You need to lighten up.” He peered at Eddie with a look that said he was scared.
“Shit, Bellmore. Now I’m starting to think you’re trying to con me.” Eddie’s anger seethed out in a cold tone that chased off his perp’s remaining confidence.
“Hey, man.” Bellmore rolled his eyes to the right, like he was stalling to search for some courage. “I’m for real and my goods is for real.” His expression softened and his tone followed. “I just have to be careful, you know. There’s cops all over the place these days.”
“You’re telling me.” Eddie’s jovial laughter dismantled the remaining tension.
Bellmore’s stiffened face eased into an overconfident grin. “Come on.” He removed his cap from the wall and positioned it back on his head, concealing the upper portion of his face. “My ride’s right out front. Let’s go take a look.” The unsuspecting perp headed for the door, coaxing him with a passive wave.
Eddie snatched the money off the table and stuffed it inside his jacket. “This better be good,” he said, moving outside.
“Good...?” Bellmore cackled, approaching a vintage 70s Camaro just outside the diner’s entrance. “Man, I got shit lined up that your player-ass can only dream about.” He paused at the trunk, keys in hand, and a salacious grin curled under his moustache. The fresh air must have renewed his false sense of security. “Where did you find that sweet piece of—”
“If you keep stalling...” Eddie cut him off. “I’m going to end up doing something you’re probably not going to like.”
“Okay, okay.” Bellmore complained in slow, dawdling movements and then did the dumbest thing imaginable. He opened the trunk right in front of the restaurant. “I was just wondering how much she costs,” he said, sounding like a wounded kitten who’d just tried to challenge his big brother, and lost.
“Trust me. You don’t have enough money.” Eddie’s
attention cut to the trunk. The dark blanket crumpled over the compartment made the hairs on his neck rise up.
Bellmore peeled back the coverlet, revealing a bevy of guns. “Ain’t these beauties sweet?”
Most were recognizably illegal. A few, while legally attainable, Eddie bet the serials had been removed.
“So how much for all of them?” Eddie rested one hand on the raised trunk.
Bellmore hesitated before answering. “Hundred grand.”
Eddie laughed.
“Okay, fifty.”
“Tell you what.” Eddie tapped his forefinger on the trunk twice before planting both hands on his hips. The perp needed a reason to negotiate. “I’ll give you thirty-five grand, and you get to spend some quality time with my best girl.”
The perp stared at the guns, lips moving silently.
“Well?” Eddie laid on the pressure.
“Two days.”
“Better take the deal before my offer drops to twenty-five and forget the girl.”
“Okay. Okay.” Bellmore gave in, seeing Rio exiting the diner. His interest lit and stayed on her. “Hey, baby. Get your sweet ass in the car.”
“Excuse me?” Ice daggers shot her words at Bellmore.
“Not yet,” Eddie said in a calm tone. “Not until the guns are transferred into my truck.”
Chattering voices turned Eddie’s head. Two hooker-looking chicks strolled toward them. He put the brakes on his urge to rant and curtailed it to just a thought. Damn it. This could turn ugly if they questioned Rio’s presence in their territory.
“J.B.” One of the girls chimed Bellmore’s initials in a sing-song voice. She looked high, and pleased to see him.
“Shit.” The word steamed through Bellmore’s teeth like the long, low whistle of a simmering teapot.
Broken Wings Page 15