Double-Crossed Page 3

  “Keep it, Jayden, and believe me, I’ll call. It’d be nice if you weren’t busy later.” She took out another four hundred and kissed Jayden’s temple. “Go have lunch and wait for me to call you.”

  “This is enough for two days.”

  “Lucky me then.” She kissed Jayden when she pressed her lips to hers and hoped Jayden simply went home. “I’ll call you.”

  “Don’t go throwing all that cash around, or you won’t live out the week. Sometimes this town isn’t full of nice people, so don’t follow the lead of your friends and get all crazy. Crazier, anyway.” Jayden kissed her again and walked out.

  It took another twelve minutes before she made it to the front and handed over a business credit card for the room. The young woman made small talk as she processed the card, then handed over a map with the room keys. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Smith. All the conference meetings will be held here.” She circled the spot on the map and smiled. “Please call if you need anything.”

  The route to the room was through the casino, and she ignored the conference goers lured by the slots. She wanted to get set up to see where Victor Madison’s car was. The tracker she’d put on it was still there. Sofia’s exit had kept him at home longer than usual, but the bugs she’d placed in the Madison home had yielded a simple explanation. Victor was free to entertain his secretary at home while Sofia was away.

  If Sofia knew her scumbag husband was screwing one of his many mistresses in her bed, she’d probably have shot the bastard herself, but Reed would save that information for later in case her client showed any kind of remorse. She hadn’t mentioned the bugs to Sofia or anyone else. Right now, all that was important was to keep him out of the office until she was ready for him.

  “You’re running late,” Oscar Dawson said as he got into the elevator with her. “Though, you look hot for a middle-aged guy with a desk job. How many beers a day do you think it would take to get that beer belly?”

  “Fuck you too, buddy.” She laughed.

  They’d been friends since they were nine, when she’d saved Oscar from a beating. He’d been surrounded by the bullies who ran the facility they were in. Both of them had grown up under the state of Nevada’s neglectful eye, orphans of circumstance, as they’d been told over and over, which translated into unwanted and useless. Reed had been big for her age and Oscar had exactly the opposite problem, so he’d stuck with her from that day on.

  “And Bellagio doesn’t know Bill Smith, so I had to wait in that long-ass line. You got what I asked for?”

  “Please. When have I ever let you down?”

  They walked to the room that was as far from the entrance as possible and had a view of the parking lot and the tops of the mountains in the background. She’d manipulated the selection because of the elevator bank just down the hall. Two floors below were the executive offices, including Victor’s office with his perfect view of the Strip and his private gardens. Supposedly, it was one of the most beautiful spots in the city. The top floors above them were where the best suites were. One elevator was electronic-key-access only, and Victor’s most convenient route if he was entertaining.

  “We need to start this afternoon,” she said. “The first part of this has to be finished before we move to the big finale.”

  “You sure tonight wouldn’t be better? We were on schedule for two weeks from now, so what’s the rush?” Oscar took the computers he’d need out of her suitcase and started setting up.

  “I had Sofia scatter some stuff around the house that should keep him at home looking for clues as to what she’s up to, so now’s good. Victor’s obviously not expecting this, but then neither is Sofia, so it’ll help with the surprise response when the cops call her this quickly.” She took off her suit jacket and rolled her sleeves up. “All you need to do is monitor security and give me some warning if anyone comes my way.”

  Oscar was strictly a behind-the-scenes kind of guy, but he was good at getting into places she couldn’t. As far as hackers went, Oscar was one of the best. “Get going and I’ll be ready.”

  She walked out and headed for the elevators. All but one opened onto guest rooms and the casino floor. But the sixth elevator, the keyed access one, had back doors that opened toward the executive offices. It was used at times by the security chiefs who had offices on the fourth floor, but it was mostly for Victor’s convenience, so he could come and go as he pleased, bypassing anyone he wanted to avoid outside his office.

  “Wait for it,” Oscar said into her ear. The middle car on the right opened and she noticed this one was plusher than the one they’d ridden up in. “Get in and don’t worry about the camera. It’s on a loop.”

  “Thanks.” She got in and stared at her shoes out of an overabundance of caution. The camera was never your friend, whether it was on or not. The elevator opened outside Victor’s private office and his secretary’s desk was empty. “Are you ready?”

  “You’re invisible until you reach the door. The inner sanctum is the only spot that’s a camera-free zone. It’s probably contributed to his marital problems,” Oscar said as she picked the lock to Victor’s door. “If there’s a couch in there, don’t go anywhere near it.”

  “Trust me, that’s not part of the plan.”

  “Shit,” Oscar said as the door gave way.

  “Problem?” she asked as she studied the space. “Talk to me.”

  “His assistant must’ve not been in the mood, or Sofia fucked up her part. His car is headed our way.”

  She glanced at her watch and figured she had twenty minutes tops if she wanted to be cautious. This part of the op had to be done in less than fifteen if she didn’t want to get stuck in here.

  “Give me updates.” She headed to where Sofia thought the safe was—bingo. It was larger than the ones in the rooms but had the same digital readout. She attached the passcode breaker to it and moved on. Her gut instinct was Victor didn’t keep what she was looking for in a safe any petty thief or maid could get into. “And I’m in no way petty,” she said softly as she searched the space for what she knew in her gut was there. Somewhere…

  “Did you say something?”

  “Nothing important. Talk to me, Oscar.”

  “He’s still en route, so concentrate.”

  “Working on it.” The picture in the bathroom of dogs playing poker made her laugh. Whose bright idea was that in the decorating department? The trip wire attaching it to the wall, though, made it the one thing she was looking for. If she’d simply moved it, severing the wire, security wouldn’t have given her the time to escape.

  It took a few minutes to get past all the security measures the tacky velvet painting came with, but she smiled when she saw what it covered. The American Security safe wasn’t the best on the market, but Victor had obviously factored in the safe’s location and the security he had. Those two factors alone would keep anyone from actually getting this close, so he’d saved himself some money.

  “He’s passing the Cosmopolitan,” Oscar said as she stuck the earpiece in and attached the amplifier to the safe, right by the dial. She left the Earwig in her other ear so she could still hear Oscar.

  “Give me a few minutes.” She cleared the dial, stopping on zero after four spins, and blew out a breath.

  “That’s about all you have.”

  She started turning slowly to the right with her eyes closed until it clicked on twenty-two, then turned to the left—longer since it clicked on eighteen, and then back to the right to twenty. That one she almost missed since it came so quickly. The safe held stacks of cash, a bag of diamonds, four ledgers, and six different bankbooks. The stockpile of loot was tempting but the bankbooks and ledgers were all she was interested in.

  “Reed, he’s in the building, and he’s walking really fast toward his office.”

  Reed could almost hear his heart pounding. His tendency toward panic was why he was up in the room and not here.

  “Do I have time for the elevator?” she asked as she rigged t
he painting back up.

  “He’s a hundred feet from the executive offices. Can you flush yourself down the toilet?”

  “I could totally do that, but it’ll mess up my hair.” The safe in the office was open now and the folder on top captured her attention. The business card attached to it was from some law firm that specialized in divorces. That she had to chance taking, but it added a job for the night.

  “He’s at the door,” Oscar said, his voice higher than a prepubescent boy’s.

  She locked the smaller safe again and headed back to the bathroom with one more glance back to make sure nothing was out of place. This hadn’t been in her plan, but she was good at improv. She started formulating a plan as she heard the office door open and people entered.

  “Get my villa ready and take off. You can take the boys with you,” a voice she recognized as Victor’s said.

  “You want me to stay with you tonight?” a woman asked. “This afternoon wasn’t enough time.”

  “I’ve got meetings. Take the night and the morning off.”

  From the way the door slammed, Victor’s assistant was pissed about something, and it was probably with Victor. Reed listened as he poured a drink, the ice cubes rattling in the glass. From the whoosh of air, he must have fallen into his office chair.

  “Let me talk to him,” Victor said, and since there was no answer, he was clearly on the phone. There was an extension in the bathroom but she refrained from using it. “Then fucking tell him there’s no way we’re in on this.” The phone slammed down.

  The office door opened and closed again, and Reed waited to see if she had to take drastic measures. Her pulse was steady, but she damn well wanted to get out of there.

  “Did you talk to Robert?” a man asked, but Reed didn’t recognize the voice.

  “Little Bobby’s got himself in deep, and he’s drowning in his own shit.” There was movement but they stayed away from the bathroom door. “No way in hell is he stinking up this place to save his own ass.”

  “You told him that?”

  “He’s not answering the phone, but the fucker can’t hide forever,” Victor said, slamming something down. “Have you heard from my fucking wife?”

  Reed smiled at how articulate this guy was. How in hell he’d gotten to where he was with Bellagio was a true mystery.

  “Sofia isn’t your problem right now. You have until tomorrow to clear your head, but then these guys want an answer, and I would highly suggest it’s not no.” Someone grunted and Reed figured it was Victor. “Get whatever’s in your head worked out because this is no fucking joke. Having the big office won’t save you from these guys.”

  “Let’s go have a drink and mingle with all the beautiful people.” The door opened and slammed shut again.

  “Oscar?” she said softly once the office was empty. “I need to know who that was.” She took a minute to breathe and to give them time to get to the elevator.

  “I’ll tell you later. Get out of there. You’re clear.”

  “Great advice, my friend.”

  Chapter Three

  “You should call and ask a few questions,” Brinley’s mom, Wilma, said after congratulating Brinley on her new job. “This sounds like a great opportunity and you want to show you’re eager.”

  “Disrupting someone’s weekend might be too eager, Mom.” After the interview and job offer, the rush to finish unpacking had been Brinley’s main focus.

  All the scattered boxes in her apartment were a visual analogue of her life. There had been a restlessness since Finn’s birth that made her anxious for the first time in her life. Sure, she had worries like a normal person, but anxiety and its multitude of wonderful side effects, like lack of sleep, weren’t her favorite things in life. Maybe once all this was put away where it belonged, the shit in her head would do the same thing.

  “But don’t worry. I’ll get there extra early on Monday to show my eager-beaverness.” She wiped down the inside of the cabinets before putting her dishes in. The sight of Finn’s Spider-Man plate made her sigh in relief since he’d pointed at his paper plate during dinner and refused to eat.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come and take care of Finn for a couple of months while you two adjust to the new place and job?”

  Her mom was the true definition of persistent—especially now that she was semiretired. “Mom, he has to get used to day care. We talked about this, remember?”

  Wilma—a name her mother hated with a passion usually reserved for terrorists and people who were mean to cats—had run her own small accounting firm in Metairie, Louisiana, for over twenty-five years. The job paid well enough and afforded her the flexibility to work from home as needed. After Brinley’s father abandoned them both when she was four, her mom raised her as a single parent, and the job flexibility had allowed them to spend plenty of time together.

  But for years, Wilma had poured all her time and attention into her and her job, which had left no room for dating. And she and her mom were the best of friends, which meant her move to Vegas hadn’t been met with any sort of enthusiasm, but her mother understood the necessity.

  “I’m going to keep trying, so grin and don’t try to stop me,” Wilma said.

  “Isn’t that grin and bear it?” Finding the wineglasses was surely a sign the moving gods wanted her to take a break.

  “My version is much more accurate. I miss you and my little guy.”

  “Believe me, we miss you too, and once we’re settled, we’ll have you out for as long as I can talk you into staying.” She poured herself a glass of the white wine a courier had delivered with flowers and a note welcoming her to the Moroccan family. The gift surprised her, but it made her positive she’d made the right decision in accepting. “Is Crystal bothering you anymore?”

  Finn’s loser father, Jarrell, was locked away in Angola, but Jarrell’s drughead mother, Crystal, kept threatening to take Brinley to court to prove Finn was her grandson. Brinley was sure they didn’t actually want anything to do with Finn—the threat was a ploy to somehow extort money from either her or her mom. They both promised to stay away if she could help with their quote-unquote bills, code for I want you to work hard to keep me in drugs.

  If she could have paid for them to stay away, she would’ve, but Jarrell’s best talent was upping the ante, and a little money was never going to be enough. There was no way she wanted her son around Jarrell or any of his family. It was a miracle her little man was born healthy, considering the drugs Jarrell had consumed. She’d die before she allowed Finn around any of that.

  “She came by last week, and one of my guys finally threatened to call the police, and she left quietly.” Wilma stopped and laughed. “Well, as quiet as Crystal ever gets. According to my new associate, she smelled like she’d bathed in whiskey before she got there.”

  “Believe me, Mom, I love Finn more than life, but I’ve said it before and will say it again, we can both admit I really fucked up on this one. I’ll regret that night until Finn can make his own decisions about knowing his father. Even then, I’ll really have to think about telling him who the guy is.”

  “I don’t regret anything, my darling. You and I had the same kind of luck—life didn’t exactly deliver Prince Charming, but we both ended up with great kids. Concentrate on all the good stuff that’s happening in your life, and forget about Jarrell and his family and all their scheming.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” she said, missing her late night chats with her best friend. “And you can come whenever you want.”

  “I’ll give you a couple of months to settle in. That should be enough time for me to feel comfortable leaving the office.” Her mom was dedicated to her family, but her clients also got a lot of her attention. “Do you need anything before you get started? Are you set for money?”

  “Mama, please.” She raised her wineglass. “Your paying for our move out here was generous enough.”

  “You’re my child,” Wilma scoffed. “If I don’t spend my money
on you and Finn, who the hell am I going to spend it on?”

  “We’re fine, so make sure everyone’s trained so you don’t have to hurry home when you come for a visit.” She finished her wine and went to put her glass in the sink. “I love you.”

  “Finish up, but don’t stay up too long.” Her mom’s voice softened, and it made Brinley crave a hug. “I love you, my sweet girl, and I’ll call you later.”

  She put the phone down and finished wiping the inside of the cabinets so she could unpack the last of her boxes. The memories she fought hard to forget always appeared when she talked about Jarrell and his mother. Her pregnancy had been horrific, and then Finn had sucked up all her free time. She wouldn’t change the outcome or give Finn up, but she sometimes missed the fun of a night out with friends.

  “Get used to a boring life for a while yet,” she said as she started placing dishes away. “With any luck you’ll remember what to do if you actually get hit with some excitement.”

  * * *

  Reed headed down to the casino floor and played slots while Victor sat at the bar at the highest stakes poker table and talked to one of his floor managers. It was after six and she had another stop to make, but the guy in Victor’s office was still a mystery and she wanted a name from Oscar before she left. Victor and mystery guy had been talking about Robert Wallace, top dog at the Moroccan, and everyone in Vegas knew of Victor’s hate for the putz in the big chair next door.

  “Victor’s visitor was Benito Lucassi.” Oscar could see her but she could only hear him, and his disembodied voice answered one question but spawned others. She had to keep her expression from showing her surprise. Benito Lucassi wasn’t someone she’d have put anywhere near Victor.

  Benito ran one of the largest bookie operations in the city and was successful because he never tried to play favorites, no matter how much money was involved. Vegas was a place where any kind of bet could be placed, but there was still plenty of action that the gaming commission didn’t control. Benito was the go-to guy for the Mob on the East Coast as well as the West Coast. Interesting that he was with Victor talking about the Moroccan CEO.