“Yeah, I did, as a matter of fact.”
She paused in her typing, finally glancing at Faye with a raised brow. “And?”
“And you know that creep who hit on you the other day? The one who wouldn’t let you leave? I found out he wins a lot, at all the tables. One of the gals said he’s there sometimes with another guy—blond, medium build. Not sure if you’ve seen them together at a table or not.”
“Huh.” After leaving Owen’s, she’d run the name she’d seen on his screen—Greg Walpole—and managed to match his face to the creep Faye mentioned. The partner thing, though, was new. Alison frowned and went back to typing. If Walpole was working with a partner, that would make sense. Two takes were better than one. And less suspicious.
“Want me to make some lunch?” Faye headed for the kitchen. “I need to eat before my shift at five.”
“Yeah, sure.” She kept her attention on her screen, scrolling through new data. “I could eat.”
“Omelet or salads?”
“Whatever.”
“Cool.”
Amidst the sounds of cookware clacking and food sizzling, Alison dug deeper into Greg Walpole. She started with social media—Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. You could live off the grid. Hell, she was proof of that. But most people liked to stay in touch. But after several minutes of looking, she remained empty-handed.
Faye returned and set a plate of veggie omelet and toast on the coffee table in front of Alison then took the seat beside her. “How’s it going?”
“Slow.”
“You should take a break. Eat your food before it gets cold.”
Alison wanted to keep working, but her rumbling stomach said otherwise. Reluctantly, she set the laptop aside and picked up her plate and fork. “Hey, I didn’t know you were into adultery.”
“What?” Faye halted mid-chew. “What are you talking about?”
“Your Rockford McHottie.” Alison dug into the creamy eggs and crunchy veggies, savoring the salt and greasy goodness and the spicy snap of the peppers. “He’s got a girlfriend.”
“Owen? You must be kidding.” Faye spoke around a bite of toast, her words muffled. “He spends more time at the casino than I do. No way does that guy have a social life.”
“All I know is, he turned me down pretty quick.” She took a sip of the orange juice Faye had brought out with her food.
“You were drunk. Maybe he was trying to be a gentleman.”
“Was not,” Alison mumbled under her breath, cursing herself for bringing up her second rendezvous with Owen the day before.
Shit. Smooth move, idiot.
Mortified, heat prickled Alison’s cheeks and she looked away fast.
“Like hell you weren’t.” Faye chuckled and licked her fork then stared at Alison. “Wait a minute. You saw him again, didn’t you? I can tell from your face. When?”
“Yesterday. I didn’t do it very well though, apparently.”
“You like him!” Faye laughed. “I knew there was something between you two.”
“There’s nothing between us, okay?” Alison stuffed her last bite of eggs in her mouth, then wiped her face with a napkin and set the plate back on the table. “He’s hot, that’s all. And it’s been a while since I got any… nookie.”
“Nookie? Pretty sure no one on the planet calls it ‘nookie’ anymore.”
“I did. That makes one.” She sat back and crossed her arms, feeling way more vulnerable than she liked. Embarrassed, Alison picked up her laptop again and continued searching for more dirt on Walpole. “Nookie’s a good word. I like it.”
“You and Owen are perfect for each other. Man, am I a matchmaker or what?”
“At this point, I’d go with ‘or what’.” She ignored her friend’s obscene gesture and continued typing. “Owen Rockford and I are not perfect. You are not a matchmaker. I was only offering him sex. Besides, it’s well-documented women who have regular orgasms think more clearly. And I’m not talking the self-administered kind either.” She sighed. “These days I can use all the clear thinking I can get.”
“I bet.” Faye waggled her brows and Alison tossed her balled up napkin at her head.
“I’m talking about logic.”
“Sure you were.”
“Dammit.” Alison scowled at her computer screen, exasperated. “I hate Facebook. Faye, what’s your login? It won’t let me see anything unless I’m signed in.”
“You don’t have Facebook?”
The aghast tone of her friend’s voice broke through Alison’s grumpy fog and she laughed. “Don’t act so surprised. It is possible to live without it, you know.”
Especially with Copernatech tracking my every move.
“Here.” Faye held out her hand and Alison handed over the laptop, watching while her friend typed in her credentials then she gave the computer back. “Just don’t look up any porn, okay?”
“Okay.” It was a long shot, given the guy’s penchant for cheating, but the results popped up and there was a Greg Walpole’s profile listed in Vegas. Perhaps her crap luck was turning around. Once his page loaded, Alison scoured his friend list for blond men.
“So.” Faye got up to take their dishes to the kitchen. “How are you going to snag Owen?”
“What?” She scrolled through picture after picture with no luck. Boy, for a guy who liked to live on the down low, Walpole sure as hell had a lot of online friends. “I’m not trying to snag anyone. Particularly not a guy with a girlfriend.”
“Like I said.” Faye returned to her seat. “I’d bet good money he’s playing hard to get.”
Only half-paying attention to her friend, Alison stopped near the bottom of Greg’s friend list, hovering over a picture of a blond guy who looked vaguely familiar. Cory Springer. She clicked on his name and saw him listed as Greg’s half-brother. She turned the screen to face Faye. “Is this the other guy, the one the dealer saw?”
Faye leaned in and squinted. “Yeah, looks like him.”
Grinning, Alison sat back and closed the laptop. “Bingo! We just found the real cheaters.”
Ten
The next day, Owen leaned against the wall in his office, watching while the casino’s top IT guy clacked away on his computer keyboard. The guy looked about twelve and was dressed the same way, but given the information Alison had discovered, he’d decided it was best to follow her trail. Her theory of Walpole having a partner made sense too, even if he still wasn’t one-hundred-percent convinced Alison might not be the partner in question.
The office door opened and Shelby and Chase walked in, glancing from the IT guy to Owen, then back again.
“Who’s he?” Shelby asked.
“Ronny’s my best tech guy. He’s been here over an hour and we think there are two cheaters. He’s searching the video surveillance and databases for anyone associated with the one known suspect, Greg Walpole. If he’s got a partner, Ronny should be able to discover their identity.”
“You have a name now too?”
“Yep.” Owen pulled out the ledger sheets Alison had highlighted. “See these transactions? We’ve pinpointed at least half of them to a player’s club account under the name of Gregory Walpole. The other half use a different number, but they’re all the same. So, if we can connect the dots, we should be able to bust them both.”
“Wow.” Shelby gave him an impressed smile. “Good work, Owen.”
“Thanks.” Much as he wanted to take all the credit, his honor wouldn’t let him. “I had help though. From Alison.”
“The cute math whiz who came to her friend’s rescue?” Chase asked, winking at Shelby. “Maybe Blake was right.”
Owen shook his head, disgruntled. “No. Blake was not right. There is nothing between Alison and me, except the fact she’s good at math.”
Good at other things too…
His naughty brain filled with images of them making out on his sofa. The smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, the delicious sound of her moans as she writhed beneath him…<
br />
Shit. He shoved the errant thoughts aside. There was no time for that now.
Now, he was on a mission to catch a thief or two.
“So.” Shelby took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “We need to figure out who the other guy is and get a name, right? Seems pretty straightforward.”
“Yeah.” Owen scrubbed a hand over his face. “Except even if we find these guys, we still have to prove that they’re cheating.”
“Daddy was always big on everyone enrolling in the player’s club when they came into the casino. Said it made things easier to track for us and gave them big incentives to spend more cash in the place. We give them double points for showing the card when they collect their winnings. Numbers don’t lie.” She turned to Ronny, who remained completely focused on the screen before him. “Can you hack into that database, Ronny?”
“Nope. Sorry. Not without the security code, ma’am.”
“Good thing I’m here then.” She grabbed a sticky pad and pen off Owen’s desk and scribbled down six digits then slid them over to the IT guy. “There you go.”
“Awesome. Just a sec and I’ll be in…” He typed furiously then sat back, frowning. “Hmm…”
“Hmm what?” Owen peered over his shoulder. “Find something?”
“Can I see those ledger sheets again, Mr. Rockford?” Ronny asked.
“Sure.” He handed them to the kid then leaned back while his tech guru typed some more. Owen liked surfing the Net as much as the next guy, but this kid was a computer geek extraordinaire.
“Yes!” Ronny grinned wide and pointed at the screen. “Found ‘em. They used their club card here, here, and here.”
“Great.” Chase came around the desk to stand beside Owen. “Can we get a visual on them from the cameras?”
“Maybe.” Owen squinted at the screen. “What’s the name, Ronny? If we can track their movements through the card, we can pinpoint which camera locations to check.”
“Um.” Ronny hit a few more keys then sat back. “Looks like an A. James.”
“What?” His blood froze in his veins. “Say that again?”
“A. James.”
Cursing, Owen slumped against the wall. “We don’t need a visual. I know who that is.”
“Who?” Shelby leaned closer, her expression concerned.
“Alison.”
“Oh.. right. A for Alison.” Shelby's face creased. “Are you sure? She doesn't seem like a cheater.”
“Damn.” Chase leaned in closer over Ronny’s shoulder. “Yep. She cashed in those chips. No doubt about it. What do you want us to do?”
Anger and hurt stabbed Owen’s chest and he reacted from pure instinct and betrayal. “Get her photo to security. If she’s dumb enough to come in here again, we’ll have her arrested.”
* * *
“Stop here, driver.”
Alison paid the cab fare then climbed out near the bus stop behind the Lucky Ace. Another envelope was due from her contact today, so she peered under the bench once the taxi had gone.
Nothing yet, but it was still early.
Determined to tell Owen her good news, she rushed across the parking lot toward the back entrance to the casino.
Finally, she could walk into this place without feeling like a dead man walking.
Maybe once they caught the actual bad guys, she and Owen might even have a real chance of hooking up. Despite his pulling away, there’d been sparks.
Yeah. Definite sparks.
Warmth tingled anew between her legs at the thought of his long, muscled form pressed tight against her, the brush of his soft, firm lips against her cheeks, her neck, lower…
Practically floating on an air of confidence, she stepped inside the shadowed casino and headed for the hallway where Owen’s office was located.
Yep.
Right about now, hooking up with Owen Rockford seemed like the idea of a lifetime ... even if it was only for one night.
Eleven
“Wait a minute.” Shelby pushed to her feet and joined Chase behind the computer. “You can’t arrest her based just on this. What happened to proving she’s a cheater first?”
Oh, she’s a cheater all right. Just like fucking Faith…
Still, much as Owen hated to admit it, Shelby was right. “Fine. I’ll go down to the cashier window and talk to the employee who handled the transactions. That’ll give us both video surveillance and an eye witness putting Alison on the scene. Coupled with the ledger transactions she pointed out herself, and we should have enough to get the cops to haul her in for questioning.”
“I don’t know.” Shelby shook her head and crossed her arms. “I’m still not convinced.”
“Well, I am.” Owen pushed to his feet and paced the room. “There was video of Alison at Faye’s table. Walpole was there too. She sat close to him and now I know why. We’ve confirmed he’s the other culprit, so it makes sense.”
“Um, Mr. Rockford?”
“What?” Owen did his best to hide his growing agitation and failed miserably, if the way the kid flinched was any indication. “Sorry. What is it, Ronny?”
“Someone just made another big transaction with this club card.”
“Really?” Owen stepped in on the kid’s other side to stare at the computer screen. “When? What cashier?”
“A few minutes ago,” Ronny said. “Around three forty-five. Let me check the security camera near there.”
While he watched Ronny zip through several pages of video feeds, Owen was torn between excitement and despair. Excitement over finally catching a break on the cheaters, and despair that all fingers pointed to Alison. Before he could wallow in his feelings, however, the phone on his desk rang. “Yes?”
“Sir, we’re tracking your suspected cheater on the casino floor now. Should we apprehend her?”
Alison. Eyes squeezed shut and muscles tight with tension, Owen nodded. “Yes. Pick her up. Do not let her get away.” He slammed the phone down and turned to the others. “She’s here. Ronny, get that video from the cashier’s cage as soon as possible. I’m going to head out there and—”
The office door burst open. One of the security guards held up a manila envelope similar to the one Owen had seen Alison nab that night behind the casino. “Sorry, sir, but Blake Rockford said you needed this information right away.”
“Fuck.” He snatched the envelope from the guy and tore it open then scanned the contents fast. “When did you find this?”
“About three forty, sir. Five minutes before the redhead showed up to retrieve it.”
“Wait!” Shelby shouted. “If Alison was outside getting this envelope at three forty-five, there’s no way she could’ve cashed in those chips.”
“She’s right, sir.” Ronny swiveled the monitor to face Owen. “The video shows a blond guy using that card just now, not a woman.”
“Goddammit!” Owen bolted from the room, praying he had time to find Alison before his security guards.
* * *
Elbowing her way through yet another crowd of players, Alison headed toward the back of the casino and Owen’s office. The place was crazy busy this afternoon for some reason. Crowds were definitely not her forte, mainly because it made it that much harder to spot any Copernatech bad guys lurking about.
She weaved through a raucous bunch of senior citizens having a heyday at the penny slots and stepped out into a small open spot. Taking a deep breath at last, she glanced around only to find two black suited security guards watching her from a nearby alcove. One of them whispered toward the earpiece on his right side then both started toward her.
Her blood froze. What could they want with her?
Not wanting to wait around to find out, she panicked and turned to flee and smashed right into a six-foot wall of pure, hard muscle. She looked up and met a pair of familiar brown eyes.
Owen.
He waved off the guards and took her arm, guiding her toward the opposite wall where it was quieter. She tried t
o pull free but his grip was too firm. “What’s going on?”
“We found the cheaters.”
“Me too. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to tell you so you could—” A blond guy raced behind Owen and her eyes widened. “Oh, my God! That’s him! Cory Springer, Walpole’s partner. You need to stop him before he gets away!”
“Stay here,” Owen warned before rushing after the guy.
Not wanting to risk her one shot at clearing her and Faye’s names, Alison followed right behind Owen. If Cory Springer tried something, she’d happily bust out all of her self-defense karate skills on his sorry ass. Might help her work out some aggression too.
Owen raced for the front entrance while she took a detour toward the side door. Walpole and Springer were smart. Far too smart to run out right beneath security’s noses. The side exit seemed a much likely probability.
Sure enough, she made it to the door at the same time as Springer and managed to catch him by surprise. He went for a classic around-the-waist hold on her, thinking she was some small, helpless female.
Big mistake.
He no sooner had his arms around her then she went for the SING—solar plexus, instep, nose, groin—then finished with a nice roundhouse kick that sent him flying through the glass door. She reached out to catch him by the scruff of his shirt collar but ended up cutting her arm on the shards still hanging on the door frame instead.
“Ow! Shit.” She hissed and scowled down at Springer’s now unconscious form lying in a sea of glass on the pavement. After a kick to his shin for good measure, she turned to find a stunned Owen and his crew watching her, along with Shelby, Chase, Blake and another woman who shared the Rockford family’s coloring and good looks, but whom she’d never met. “What?”
“Damn,” the unknown woman said. “We missed it.”
“Not now, Liv.” Blake stepped forward and wrapped his handkerchief around Alison’s now oozing cut. “We heard something was going down at the Lucky Ace and rushed over to help. Thanks to you, it looks like it’s all taken care of.”
She replaced his hand with hers on her injured forearm and applied pressure as best she could. The damned thing was really starting to hurt. “Thanks. I got it.”
Calculating Desires (The Rockford Security Series Book 4) Page 9