Double-Crossed Read online

  “Oscar,” she said softly, since there was an elderly woman on each side of her.

  “Yes, Master?”

  “I’m glad you’re learning,” she said, tapping her chin with her middle finger.

  “I’d tell you to bite me, but you’d probably enjoy it. What’s up?”

  “Keep an eye on our friend and I’ll be back.” She tapped the play button and hit a three-hundred-dollar score, so she printed the ticket and pocketed it.

  “Are you sure you don’t need me to come with you?”

  “Don’t lose Victor, and I’ll be back. Throwing Benito into the mix has me curious, and I’d like to know if anyone else interesting shows up.”

  “Any insight on that?”

  She shook her head as she headed for the entrance. “Benito has to be a middleman for someone, but I doubt he’d go out of his way for anyone in Vegas. That means there’s someone in New York yanking on his leash, and we need to find out who that is. And why they’re connected to Victor.”

  She had the valet bring her car around and she parked two blocks from the building where Victor’s attorney had an office. The place looked to have about twenty floors, and the place she was after was on the eighteenth. There was a parking lot next door, and she walked through it to get to the back of the building. She left her jacket behind and carried a tool bag with a cable company logo printed on the side.

  The utility box was right inside the service entrance, and it didn’t take long for her to completely shut down the security system for the entire building by running a diagnostic and resetting it. Every job seemed to be a race against the clock, and this particular one could only last forty-five minutes. She pulled her ball cap lower and headed for the service elevator. The eighteenth floor was dark, but she walked the entire length of the hall to make sure she was alone. This time she wanted to leave absolutely no sign she’d been here.

  At the end of the hall was a kitchen and a set of bathrooms, but it was the unmarked door to their left that got her attention. Since the law office took up the entire floor, it made sense that the building management would’ve made it easy for employees to access this area. The lock was simple and she took a few moments to acclimate to the darkness when she made it inside the offices.

  The area she was in was open-plan and full of desks—assistants and paralegals. That meant the files wouldn’t be far, and she quietly opened doors until she found a room with row after row of filing cabinets. It took her twenty minutes to find Victor’s and Sofia’s names. Holding a penlight in her mouth, she removed only the information that pertained to their divorce, and nothing more.

  All she needed now was access to a computer. “Let’s see who doesn’t follow company protocol,” she said, searching for a computer that hadn’t been shut down for the night. All the ones in the open area were off, so she headed down the hall and stopped when she thought she heard voices. She crouched beside a wall and listened. It definitely wasn’t a radio.

  “You worry too much,” a woman said.

  “I love sex as much as anyone, but I don’t want to die because of it,” a man replied.

  Reed smiled and moved closer to where the voices were coming from. The size of the office suggested this somewhat reluctant participant was one of the attorneys, but not a partner. The sound of a zipper gave her the opportunity to look in, but she was careful. No point in getting caught looking like a voyeur.

  “Fuck,” the guy said.

  “That’s exactly what I had in mind.” The woman was the aggressor, and from the way the guy was moaning, she was getting her way. “You want me, baby?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  They weren’t visible from the hallway, but whoever this guy was, his secretary’s computer was on. She sat down and typed quietly but quickly. Her search yielded quite a few results, which she sent to a private folder on a public computer at one of the branches of the public library, which Oscar had rigged for her use. The place didn’t have any security except a nighttime alarm with no cameras, so it was easy to break in if she needed immediate access to information gathered during an op.

  “Baby, you’re so hard,” the woman said, and Reed hoped the guy had some stamina.

  “Fuck yeah,” he said, and Reed smiled. Hopefully the guy was more articulate in court and didn’t just repeat inane things over and over. She finished sending what she needed and got up to leave.

  “You want me?” The guy grunted at the question but didn’t answer her. “You want me more than Lucan?”

  That question stopped Reed. The likelihood he was talking about Lucan Terzo was like winning the thirty million dollar progressive at the slots, but hey, someone had to hit it every so often. The opportunity was worth the risk, and she dropped to her stomach and slid to the door. Her phone recorded action on the sofa, and she made sure to focus on the faces. If this was Lucan Terzo’s wife, it was a chip Reed would save for the future.

  “Harder, baby,” the woman said, and the man grunted in response.

  Reed shot a bit more footage, then calmly walked out. There was only one thing left to do for the night.

  “What’s happening, Oscar?” she asked when she got back in the car.

  “He’s still drinking at the bar. The older son came by to see him and left with a girl and a lot of cash. I think Victor’s hoping for father of the year.”

  “He should be so lucky. Although that wouldn’t pay very well.” She drove back to the valet at Bellagio and headed to her room. It amazed her that people had children for all the wrong reasons, and the kids were always the ones who were thrown away and forgotten when they no longer served a purpose.

  She knew from experience that from the moment you were tossed aside, only the strong survived. She flopped onto her bed and let herself remember…

  Juvenile Court 1994, Las Vegas, Nevada. The room was packed with people who in no way appeared happy. Rebel Jones sat and swung her legs, since her feet didn’t touch the floor, and took a bite of the peanut-butter sandwich the woman who drove her away from her mom had given her. All the crying, screaming, and kicking hadn’t done any good, so she sat and waited. Her mom had probably figured out she was gone by now and would come looking for her.

  “Do you want some milk?” the African American woman who’d told her she had to go with her asked, as she opened her big purse and took out a thermos. “I have another sandwich if you’re still hungry.”

  “When’s my mama coming?” The lady said she needed to tell the truth, so she might as well try since they’d driven around so much there was no way Rebel could find her way back now. The only place she really ever went was the small store close to their apartment to buy cereal and milk when her mama had money. Sometimes, though, her mama forgot because she slept a lot.

  “Sweetie, your mom’s at the hospital. She’s really sick but she’d be proud of you for calling 9-1-1. You saved her life.”

  “I couldn’t wake her up, but when she’s up, she’ll come for me. She needs me to take care of her.” The sandwich made her thirsty so she accepted a cup of milk. She didn’t know what peanut butter was, but it was good. All they ate was cereal, and burgers sometimes, but her mama had told her not to complain. She didn’t know what hell was, but that’s what Mama said she had to pay when she forgot and did complain. She didn’t like hell.

  “Rebel Jones,” an old man dressed in black said loudly.

  The woman raised her hand and screwed the cup back on the thermos. They went through the fence at the front and the woman with her started talking. “I recommend foster care placement until Ms. Jones is finished with mandated rehab. The minor child was living in squalor, and there was no food in the house. My office rushed all the welfare inquiries and the minor hasn’t been enrolled in school, which puts her a year behind. This is a real case of neglect, Your Honor.”

  Rebel figured they were talking about her, but none of the words made sense. All she could do was try and remember for later.

  “Rebel, do you go to
school?” the old man asked.

  She wasn’t sure what that was so she shook her head. “When’s my mama coming to get me?”

  “Not for a while, but we’re going to take care of you until she’s better.” The old man spoke softly and smiled. “Go ahead and place her with an available family and we’ll review in six months.”

  He called some other kid’s name before she could ask about her mama again, and the woman took her hand and walked out. They went to a big office next door where everything was beige, and that night she was in a place with lots of kids, beds, and bad food. Rebel waited until it was dark until she cried, but she did it quietly. The big woman who’d given her a big T-shirt to sleep in had told her she’d be punished if she was too loud or kept asking about her mama.

  “Please, Mama, come find me,” she whispered and didn’t repeat it when someone close by yelled for her to shut up. She clamped her jaws together and tried not to think about how alone she was. Please, she thought, too afraid to open her mouth.

  Six months had turned into thirteen years, and the foster families until she’d turned nine were too many to remember, and then it was a state-run facility for kids no one wanted. Once she turned eighteen the state didn’t want her either, and they’d put her out with a high school diploma and a trash bag of whatever she owned. It took exactly three months for Rebel Jones to get arrested for armed robbery, and she again became a ward of the state.

  Those four years of prison weren’t a total waste. They were a better education than all the years of school, and when she was paroled, she killed Rebel Jones and buried her right alongside the life she could’ve had with her mother. She became Reed Gable, as well as the dozens of other identities she cultivated, and getting caught wasn’t something she’d ever let happen again.

  Chapter Four

  “Are you back?” Oscar’s voice came through the Earwig, and she stopped her spiral down memory lane.

  “I am, and I’m on my way down. I stopped by my room to pick up the bag I needed.”

  Dwelling on things no one could change was useless, but she still missed that kid who hoped to be rescued from the shit life she’d endured. Only problem was, she had no idea who her father was, and her hooker and junkie mother had fucking OD’d the night her caseworker, Mrs. Speck, put her in the system. Eventually, she learned the only person who was going to save her was herself. And she had.

  Thankfully, the elevator didn’t take long and she mentally reviewed the rest of her night. All that was left was getting to Victor without leaving a trace.

  “Any problems?”

  “Not a one. Did he go up yet?” She stopped to admire Chihuly’s Fiori di Como on the lobby ceiling, and to make sure nothing strange jumped out at her.

  “He’s still sitting in the high-stakes area with a woman who isn’t his assistant, and they’re really cozy.”

  She headed for the slots near the bar and put in a hundred. She was starting to see there was so much more to Victor than the cheating. He was in deep with something much bigger, and she wanted to know what it was. He wouldn’t be around much longer to clarify everything she wanted to know about him, but the download from the attorney’s office would be a start. A quick glance at his position gave her the scenario she needed for what came next, and she smiled as Victor discreetly handed the woman a small bag.

  “What room, Oscar?”

  “It’s one of the so-called villas out back. They’re short a few dozen rooms for true villa status, but that’s never stopped Vegas from making everything grandiose. It’s more secluded, and it sounds like he enjoys his privacy.” She heard Oscar typing something, so she pressed the max pay button a few times. “It’s number four, and I’ll guide you whenever you’re ready.”

  “I need to beat him there.”

  Victor and the woman were ramping up, so Reed stood and cashed out. It was time to give Sofia what she wanted. All she could hope for was that the result would still be what Sofia wanted when it was done. Death wasn’t something she could undo, and Sofia changed her mind as often as an adolescent.

  “Head for the spa.”

  The path Oscar led her on was one where he could manipulate the cameras along the way, so she didn’t walk too fast. She didn’t run into anyone else, which was a blessing. Anyone with a comp for this area was either at a high-stakes table, or a private one.

  The villa Victor had reserved was situated down a flagstone walk in the dense garden and had a private pool. All the lights were dimmed, and a bucket of champagne chilled next to the bed. “Very romantic, this guy,” she said as she entered the bathroom.

  All couples in which a guy in the late stages of middle age was paired with a very young beautiful woman had one thing in common. It centered around a small blue pill, and she was willing to bet her ten percent of this job that Victor had some. Sure enough, the bottle of pills was right next to the champagne. Classy.

  “Are there flowers?” Oscar asked. “The happy couple is getting close to the spa.”

  “Champagne and Viagra, buddy, but no flowers,” she said, emptying Victor’s bottle and replacing them with some from her bag. She put in the same number in case Victor was a guy who noticed small details.

  “Ah, the combination of champions.” Oscar kept typing and hummed even though it drove her insane, and she knew he knew it. “They should reach the door in about two minutes.”

  “A lot of his stuff is here, which means this is where he comes when he’s supposedly working.” The wingback overlooking the pool was in a dark spot so she turned it slightly, sat down, and waited.

  “It’ll be like dying at home then.”

  She chuckled. “I’m going to deliver every man’s dream.”

  “Robert Redford, when he was twenty-five?” Oscar said, but the door opening prevented her from answering.

  “Get on your knees and show Big Daddy how much you missed him,” Victor said.

  Reed almost gagged. Big Daddy? Really?

  “Let me share my candy with you,” the girl said as she sucked the head of his dick, then spread some of the powder he’d given her on it. She massaged it in with her finger, making Victor laugh. “You promise what you said?”

  “Yeah, baby. As soon as the bitch gets back, it’s over. The guy will make it look like an accident.” Victor headed for the bathroom before the woman could get her mouth back on him.

  Nothing like a blue helper to get the magic wand to respond, Reed thought. The woman wet her finger, dipped it in the powder, and rubbed it on her gums before stripping her dress off and heading to the bed. Whoever this was didn’t have a problem with Victor killing his wife, but sometimes whatever you threw out into the universe boomeranged on you tenfold. Victor was about to learn that lesson. Killing him before he killed his wife might bring repercussions, but there was no way to link it back to her. Hopefully Sofia had a great attorney.

  Once the happy couple were in the bedroom, Reed put on some latex gloves and got what she needed from her bag. She wondered if Victor was surprised how fast his last erection came up, but it sounded like he didn’t care as the sound of skin slapping on skin started in earnest. He didn’t last very long before he started gurgling slightly, and then there was silence.

  “Baby?” the woman said, but there was no response. “Come on, this isn’t funny.”

  Reed stood in the doorway and cracked her neck as the woman pounded on Victor’s shoulders, but he wasn’t moving. Victor’s date was now trapped under him, making Reed’s next step easier. She came in and pressed her fingers to her lips when the woman opened her mouth as if to scream. The gun in her hand must’ve been deterrent enough for the sound to die in her throat. “Spread your legs for me.”

  “What?” the woman asked, not taking her eyes off the gun.

  “Slowly spread your legs, and don’t make me say it again.” She slid her finger into the woman, next to Victor’s penis, and inserted the pill that would dissolve quickly. Another pill went on the tip of the small dildo she’d
brought for Victor. The rest wouldn’t take long at all, so she got to work staging the scene.

  Reed replaced the bag of coke Victor had given his date in the casino with the one she’d brought, which was coke mixed with fentanyl. She entered the bedroom again and sat by the bed. The woman’s eyes were open but they were vacant of life, and Victor wasn’t breathing. When she felt no pulse, Reed opened the woman’s purse and got her information from her wallet.

  It was Victor’s bad luck that the twentysomething beauty in his bed was really nineteen. The address on her driver’s license bordered an affluent area that boasted plenty of the headliners on the marquees around town. Someone was definitely going to miss this girl and be pissed she was dead. She was young, but the address meant she was in no way an escort.

  She paused and stared at the hollow faces and reflected on her feelings. These people were dead by her hand, and yet she felt nothing. The part of herself that should’ve had some sense of shock or horror had started its slow death the day that old judge and Mrs. Speck spoke a lot of words she didn’t understand, then dropped her somewhere she didn’t want to be. All those lost years had emptied her soul and left her only with the keen drive to survive and to never be the victim again.

  Granted, plenty of people went through foster care and came out to find success in business, or maybe a marriage, and went their whole lives without killing a spider, much less a person. That was true, but she’d chosen this life for the fast money and to have enough to take care of herself. She probably needed to spend time on someone’s couch spilling her problems. No shrink would ever understand that she’d do whatever she had to in order to keep from relying on anyone ever again, and that playing on the far side of the law gave her a rush no desk job ever would.