Vegas, Baby (13 page)

CHAPTER 17

THERE were no telltale clues or signs indicating suspicion or guilt for Turner Atkins—or anyone else for that matter—in the file Eddie had obtained from Gabe. Still, he decided he’d better pay a visit to the most obvious suspect, at least in Gabe’s eyes.

Atkins’s current home was the Clark County jail where he was destined to reside while awaiting trial. Not quite the same caliber as the five-thousand square foot home the federal government had confiscated at the time of Atkins’s arrest.

The fact that he’d been displaced from the lap of luxury with the promise of a bleak future in the Nevada State Prison System, in itself, could be construed as ample reason to target Rio. After all, had it not been for her, Turner Atkins would still be in business.

Then again, Rio was so sure that stalking was not Atkins’s style. She wholeheartedly believed he’d never come after her like this. Eddie had to wonder if a mob boss would ever consider killing someone with a snakebite. Typically, guys like Atkins weren’t that creative.

Even so, Eddie waited patiently for the guards to bring the mob boss into a private office at the Clark County Jail. Whether or not Turner Atkins was behind Rio’s stalking remained to be seen. But one thing was certain—Eddie intended to find out.

The door opened and Eddie stood, anxiously anticipating getting to the bottom of this mess once and for all. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t the gauche little man with balding hair that approached him now.

Atkins pulled the chair out and took a seat. He laced his fingers together and rested his cuffed hands on the table. His gaze traveled up to meet Eddie’s, who was still standing over him. Atkins’s cold, empty stare cut through Eddie, giving him a glimpse of the monster Rio had taken down.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Atkins put forth in a chilled tone to match his glare.

Time to take control. “I could be your worst nightmare.” Eddie sat in the chair opposite Atkins. “It really depends on what you say from here on out.”

Atkins gestured his concession with silence and a devil-may-care expression.

“What do you know about rattlesnakes?” Eddie said with an off-the-wall kind of attitude.

Atkins’s brow crinkled, as if he had no idea what the man before him was getting at. That didn’t mean much to Eddie. He’d had plenty of perps try to fake him out. None ever had, and he didn’t plan to monkey with tradition now.

“Are you into scaring people with anonymous, threatening letters?” Eddie hardened his tone.

Atkins blinked for a lingering second or two and then glanced back at Eddie with an
I-know-you’re-a-cop
look.

“I don’t hear a denial,” Eddie said. “Does that mean I can consider you guilty?”

Atkins didn’t speak immediately. Not until the smirk touched the corners of his mouth. “You must be new around here.”

The guy baited Eddie. It elicited aggravation but he found a way to wrangle it into submission. Tucking his frustration away, Eddie used Atkins’s own tactic against him—a stare down.

“All the local cops know me well enough to know that’s not my style.” Atkins paused and leaned closer to Eddie. “Now, since you’re obviously new, I’m going to give you a nickel’s worth of free advice. Only scorned lovers send anonymous letters.” Briefly, he scanned the room before plastering on a menacing grin. “And I haven’t scorned anyone in a long time.”

Eddie stood and loomed over his perp. “If I find out you put that snake in her car—” He struggled to keep calm. “—I’m going to make sure you get a little time in the hole with a snake of your very own.”

Confusion flashed across Atkins’s face. It faded quickly though, replaced by a cynical smile. “Guard!” Atkins rose and headed toward the exit. He waited for the door to open and then said to the officer, “We’re done here.” He glanced over his shoulder at Eddie. “Tell Red I said, hey.”

Eddie watched Atkins sashay out of the room, as if dancing to some imaginary music playing only inside his head.

If Eddie learned anything from his conversation with Atkins, he felt confident now that Rio was right about this guy. He was not her stalker.

Atkins’s words echoed through Eddie’s mind.
Only scorned lovers send anonymous letters
.

Thoughts of Switzer’s recent displays of jealousy wouldn’t let Eddie’s sanity alone. Even if no one else saw it, he knew Switzer’s anger burned a little deeper every time he witnessed Eddie and Rio together.

Yeah, but...he’s not a scorned lover
. Eddie tried to discount his growing suspicions of Switzer, but he had little luck. He’d be the first to admit that criminals didn’t think logically—if they did, they wouldn’t commit the crime.

Usually, Eddie was well-aware of who was on which side of the fence. Sometimes though, he found himself in this gray area, where things tended to get muddled when the crook was posing as one of the good guys. If that was the case, he’d better figure it out quickly.

“Martin,” Eddie called out to the driver.

“Yes sir, Mr. LaCall.”

“Eddie. My name’s Eddie.” He wished Martin would get that through his head. “Take me back to the cop shop.”

“Yes sir.” The driver laughed softly.

The mood lightened instantly and Eddie chuckled, glad he could amuse Martin with his slang verbiage.

* * *

A troublesome wave of torment whipped through Eddie as he made his way through the maze of desks, heading for Gabe Dalton’s office. He stopped at the door and filed through the options he’d come up with for dropping his bombshell. Once he identified the best choice, he rapped firmly on the open door’s glass pane, announcing his presence.

“Proceed.” Gabe’s tired voice echoed from inside.

Taxing thoughts swirled inside Eddie’s head. He ventured in and approached Gabe’s desk.

“What’s on your mind, LaCall?” Gabe asked in a gruff tone that Eddie was coming to learn meant his boss’s temper had long since run thin. Gabe looked up from his mountain of paperwork; his pale eyes supporting Eddie’s conjecture. But there was something in his demeanor that suggested Gabe welcomed the interruption.

“Well, sir, I’d like to run a theory by you,” Eddie said with a shot of confidence as he sat down in the chair directly on the other side of Gabe’s desk.

Gabe tossed him a sharp look that said,
Oh, great...another theory
. “Does anyone have any solid evidence?”

“Well, no sir.” Somehow, Eddie managed to stay calm. “Not yet.”

“Am I going to regret this conversation, LaCall?” Gabe’s voice tested Eddie. Like a nervous tic, Gabe tapped his pen against the stack of files on his desk.

“You will if I’m right.” Eddie swallowed his insecurities and let his head fill with thoughts of keeping Rio safe.

Gabe’s hardened gaze softened. He glossed Eddie with his full, animated curiosity.

Good, now that I’ve got your attention
. Eddie’s satisfaction spilled out in a smile.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?” Gabe said, as if he’d already filled with regret.

“I’ve got a feeling you’re going to hate it.” Eddie tried to tamp down the frankness fueling his response.

“Are you telling me that you think someone in this office is Rio’s stalker?” Gabe’s tone hardened, spewing out his words just above a whisper.

“Yes, I am.” Eddie’s nerve had begun to wane but he held his ground.

“Who?” Gabe’s sharp tone bit at Eddie’s poise.

“Blake Switzer.” Eddie covered his anxiety with conviction.

“What! Are you insane?” Gabe discounted Eddie’s charge. “Switzer?”

“Sir, I know it might seem like a stretch.” Eddie conceded that much himself.
Like a freaking rubber band
.

As if he’d heard Eddie’s thoughts, Gabe gave him a sharp, cutting laugh.

Eddie leaned against the desk and propped an arm up on the edge. “But you’ve got to know how obsessed he is with her.” The gravity of the situation forced him to plead his case. “She rejects him months ago, saying she doesn’t date guys from work. Then I enter the picture, and believe me, Switzer does not like what he thinks is going on between us.” Eddie leaned back into his chair. If he couldn’t make Gabe see what he saw, he feared that Rio would end up paying the price. “He’s pissed off.”

“You telling me you’re dating Laraquette?”

Eddie gave him one of those looks that was supposed to help him reel his boss back in and keep him on track.

Gabe shook his head, as if he’d decided he needed more to go on. “Jealousy is not enough to accuse someone of attempted murder.”

“Maybe not. But you know what they say...” Eddie paused, recalling Turner Atkins’s nickel’s worth of free advice. “Only scorned lovers send anonymous letters.”

* * *

“What?” It was all Gabe could do to keep from laughing. LaCall had lost his mind.

“If you’d seen the look on his face when I showed up in the parking garage and she literally ran into my arms because he freaks her out so much.” Eddie’s voice had filled with desperation. He believed what he was saying. “Switzer was livid. I thought he was mad because I was touching her. But that wasn’t it at all.” His eyes brightened, as if he’d made some watershed discovery. “He was pissed off because he wanted to be the one to save her. I blew it for him.”

Gabe considered Eddie’s theory—for about two seconds. He dismissed it just as quickly, shaking his head and saying, “Why doesn’t he just kill you and be done with it? Then he could have her all to himself.” He laughed, hoping to show LaCall the ridiculousness of his accusation.

“He wants her to choose between us.” Summing up the logic of what he saw as a disturbed mind, Eddie leaned back in his chair and donned a triumphant smile. “He wants her to
choose
him.”

Gabe stared at him. Eddie’s guesswork was an implausibly far-fetched idea—a hard one to swallow. “You can’t just accuse a man of something so serious without solid evidence.” Gabe shook his head. He wasn’t going there without proof.

Maybe this was some kind of joke.
Yes, that’s it
. Laughter rumbled up his gut. This was all a big elaborate hoax.

One he was sure Laraquette was most certainly behind. Yes. They were all in on it. They’d all come running in any second now, but he was one step ahead of them. Little did they know, the joke would be on them.

Well, any minute now
. Gabe urged them silently. The wait was excruciating. No one sprang into the room to deem the vile trick a success, and Gabe’s heart filled with worry all over again.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Gabe’s voice had been weakened by dread.

“Unfortunately,” Eddie guaranteed with a swift, steely look.

“This is not going public until you provide some solid evidence.” Gabe slammed a fist down on the desk, scattering the mountain of files.

“Yes, sir.” Eddie stood and moved toward the door. He wrapped his hand around the doorknob and glanced over his shoulder, flashing his boss a disadvantaged look. “Sir, I really need to get inside his house.”

Better judgment urged Gabe to deny LaCall’s request, but a different voice inside his head had other ideas. A silent insistence fueled by a nagging influence drilled the inquiry through his thoughts—
what if he’s right
?

Gabe siphoned a heavy breath in through his nose and then let it drift out easily through his parted lips. “LaCall, this is off the record.” He pointed a finger at his newest agent. “You’re not authorized to go in. So you’d better be quick, clean, and efficient.” His cold, hard tone ushered in his insistent, commanding words. “If you find something, you stay with it. You guard it while I get a search warrant.”

Gabe wasn’t about to send LaCall into Switzer’s house in an official capacity. He wasn’t entirely convinced that LaCall hadn’t gone off his rocker. If he was wrong about Switzer, Gabe didn’t want to be responsible for ruining an innocent man’s life.

Then again...what if Eddie was right?

CHAPTER 18

IF THERE was anything Eddie hated, it was feeling that he no longer had the option to operate by the book. If he stood a prayer’s chance of saving Rio, he’d have to close the book and bend the rules to suit his needs. He didn’t like it, but he had no choice.

After he’d gone to all the trouble to enter Switzer’s house—off the record—his suspicions about the guy turned up nothing.

He hated winding up empty-handed. It meant he was off the mark. Either that, or his suspect was one step ahead of him. That was an even scarier thought.

He entered Gabe Dalton’s office, not quite satisfied with finding Switzer’s house free of evidence.

“Well...” Gabe asked as Eddie grabbed a chair. His boss had taken on a look of resignation. “I take it Switzer is clean.”

“His house is clean.” Eddie held onto his reservations about Switzer. He didn’t trust him. All this meant was that Switzer was either very thorough or he was on to Eddie.

“You drop this thing you’ve got going against Switzer.” Gabe’s bold stare cut through Eddie. “You might have something with that scorned lover angle, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.” He let out a stifling burst of laughter. “Hell, Laraquette’s never given him the time of day.”

Gabe had a point.

“You trying to tell me something?” Eddie was sure of it. But what, he didn’t know.

“Yeah.” Gabe gave him a slight nod. “There’s more than one person that’d be put out by a pairing between you and Rio.”

Eddie knew that. He wished people would stop bringing it up because Naomi didn’t have it in her—not like Switzer.

The thought crossed Eddie’s mind that maybe Switzer was the one he’d been sent here to expose. If that were the case, he was going to enjoy bringing the guy down, one way or another.

He’d better keep a closer eye on his colleague.

* * *

By the time Eddie arrived back at the casino, the rain had subsided and the dark clouds had begun to break apart. Exiting the car, the aroma of fresh rain—something that didn’t happen very often in the desert—wafted around him.

He moved inside, intent on finding Rio quickly. There would be no rest until he saw for himself that she was okay.

Luckily, he happened upon her just as her table had taken a dinner break. Rio didn’t say a word, just motioned with a quick nod, beckoning him to follow.

Eddie trailed a safe distance behind her, while Bradley fell in line behind him. They followed her outside and around the corner until she finally stopped between a couple of large Washington Palm trees planted in monstrous pots.

Huddled against the wall, she dug inside her purse and came out with Dickie’s cell-phone contraption. She opened it and held it in her hand leisurely at her side. Its presence and current status—open—ensured that no unwanted ears could successfully listen in on their impending conversation.

“I’m in the hot seat,” she said with a hint of enthusiasm. “The one Dickie likes to refer to as the
lucky seat
.”

A tumultuous range of chaotic scenarios rushed through Eddie’s mind. Had they one-upped their adversary? Maybe the opposition was on to them. Perhaps they’d been fortunate enough to catch a break. Their covers still had to be intact. They had to. Nothing else made sense.

Why would the doer knowingly put Rio in the hot seat? Along with Dickie’s photographic surveillance, that move could be the ironclad evidence they needed to solidify a conviction—if they could figure out the identity the mastermind.

“We need to figure out how to switch seats,” the suggestion poured from Eddie’s thoughts.

“Yep!” Rio said. “And I can tell you exactly how we’re going to do it,” she added, with a proud nod and a gleam in her eyes.

She had something up her sleeve and Eddie bet it was good.

* * *

Once Rio’s match resumed she played a few hands, making sure she was still in Dickie’s self-defined
lucky seat
, and then, like an old pro, she delved into the sting operation as if it were an extension of her personality.

She checked her hole cards. A pair of tens. She set up the scheme by massaging her forehead and then amused herself with the idea of knowing that at least one other ten would fall into the flop or the river.

While most people might not consider a pair of tens to be a viable bet—once the ten of spades did come down in the river, that was all Rio needed to confirm for her that no other hand would beat hers.

Rio monitored the game’s progress, called each raised bet until the round was over and then raked in the pot. Again.

She looked for a tournament attendant and quickly zeroed in on one poised a few feet away. “Excuse me.” She waved over the casino’s employee.

The attendant approached Rio with a pleasant smile. “Yes?” She eyed Rio’s ID tag. “Ms. Butler. What can I do for you?”

Rio leaned in toward the casino employee whose nametag read
Lucinda
. “I’m afraid I’m having a problem with one of my fellow players’ cologne,” she said in a low voice. “I need to be moved from this table immediately before my sensitivity develops into a full-blown allergic reaction.”

Lucinda turned and motioned to a security guard. The bulked-up security officer lumbered toward them in an awkward yet cocky strut.

Lucinda seemed to give him little consideration, issuing her instructions with cool indifference. “Bring Ms. Butler’s chips and follow me.”

* * *

A few tables away, Eddie had been watching with an absorbing curiosity as Rio worked her magic. Mild laughter rippled through him as she wrangled the casino’s employees into leading her away from the table.

The hand at Eddie’s table came to an end, but the match was far from over. His cell phone rang. He glanced at the floor attendant, and said, “It has to be an emergency. I wouldn’t be called otherwise.”

“Are you sitting this one out?” the male attendant asked.

“Yes.” Eddie nodded and moved away from the table, giving not much more than a second thought to the casino’s employee looming over his seat.

He was more interested in how much attention he was getting from the chick with Rio. When her sights lingered on him for more than a few seconds, he let the relief building up take hold. She’d jumped on the hook. Now it was up to Eddie and Rio to reel her in, nice and quick.

She gave him one of those
you’re-already-displaced
looks, waggled a
follow-me
finger at Rio and headed toward Eddie.

Good. She’d swallowed their bait.

* * *

The collective teams of detectives involved in the stalking and the poker tournament cases sat around the conference table, waiting for Gabe Dalton to arrive.

Eddie kept a stealthful eye on Switzer sulking on the opposite side of the roundtable. Rio sitting at Eddie’s side probably had a little something to do with the surly look contorting the guy’s face into a scowl.

Switzer’s temper seethed out in his frosty glare as if to say,
why don’t you throw her up on the table and be done with it
?

Eddie leaned toward Rio, keeping his peripheral vision honed in on Switzer. “What’s the deal with Switzer?” he whispered. “Have you two dated or something?” he added, his tone tangled in skepticism.

“No.” Rio followed the declaration with a lingering groan.

“Not even a pity date, right after you just broke up with some guy that really lit your fire?” he asked. She turned red. He winked, just to see if she’d turn redder. She did. “Maybe it was one of those misguided moments when you thought a boring guy like Switzer was the answer?”

“Eweee...gross!” A shiver raked over her body and a scowl furrowed her brow. Clearly, she didn’t relish the thought of Switzer’s touch.

Good.

“I’m telling you, he’s got it bad for you, Laraquette.” Eddie kept his voice low, barely above a whisper. “But the weird thing is...he acts more like a scorned lover than the custodian of an unrequited crush.”

* * *

Rio didn’t know whether to feel sickened or pissed off. There was nothing appealing about the nerdy little twerp sitting on the opposing side of the table.

In a casual manner, she caught a glimpse of the glare in Blake’s eyes. If looks could kill—then again, a strong wind would blow Switzer away.

Rio diverted her gaze to Eddie. She paused only for a moment before leaning over and whispering in his ear, “Do you really think a girl like me would ever, under any circumstances, be interested in a frail little thing like Blake Switzer?” She leaned back, far enough to look into Eddie’s eyes.

Nope
. Rio needed a guy like Eddie. One she could grab hold of and hang on to for dear life, without fear of breaking him into pieces.

Eddie gave her another wink. “Oh, I know he doesn’t have what it takes to attract you, much less satisfy you.” He folded his hands in front of him and laced his fingers together. “I’m just saying I don’t trust him.”

Gabe entered the room, followed by Dickie King. They all straightened in their seats, as if their fed-up teacher and the angered principal had just entered a classroom filled with problem kids.

“Sorry I’m late,” Gabe said. His apology lightened the mood considerably. “With that said...let’s get to it, King.”

Dickie wheeled his projector to the back of the room and cleared his throat. All eyes focused on him. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell any of you that Laraquette landed in her table’s lucky seat last night.” He flipped the switch on the projector and grabbed the pointer stick attached to the side of the cart. “Or how she and LaCall successfully changed places. He took command of her seat and continued to win just as she had.” Dickie paused. For effect, Rio imagined. “But it’s doubtful that any of you know the card layout at the table in question was slightly different this time.”

“How so?” Gabe asked.

“Well, in the past the winning hand was defined in the flop every hand. This time though, it was rarely clear early on. Usually it wasn’t apparent until the turn or the river card came down. And what’s more, up until that point it appeared to other players, sometimes more than one, that they were going to win the hand. Thereby, inducing them to bid precariously.”

“Are you saying it was well thought-out and planned?” Bradley asked, unable to conceal his curiosity.

“I certainly hope not,” Rio said, hardly able to conquer the skepticism welling inside.

“Why?” Switzer’s confused expression flittered around the room and finally landed on her face.

“Because...” Eddie’s voice showed his boredom with Switzer. “That means they’re on to us, most likely, and they laid those cards out perfectly for Rio, on purpose.”

“Do we have any reason to believe that’s the case?” Gabe’s anxiety seeped out and grated his voice.

“Other than what we’re seeing at the tables? No.” Eddie said.

“So why upset the apple cart?” Bradley spoke up, not thoroughly convinced either way.

“Who knows?” Dickie said. “It could be something as simple as boredom. Right now it’s hard to understand why this person, or persons, does anything.”

“And we won’t,” Rio said softly. “Not until we know their motive.”

“She’s right,” Dickie said, as if he’d grown tired of doling out explanations long ago. “These cards are laid out with discrete precision. Still, the outcome is benefiting no one because most players with targeted seats aren’t taking advantage of it.” Dickie glanced at Eddie and then Rio. “Except you two. You both moved up the ranks considerably yesterday.”

“If any of the earlier targeted seats had taken advantage ...?” Gabe asked. “What’s the likelihood that they would’ve fared as well as Laraquette and LaCall?”

“Slim,” Dickie said with a simple shrug. “Consider, if these two weren’t undercover—” He waved dramatically at Rio and Eddie. “—then Laraquette would’ve stayed in the seat she’d been assigned. She wouldn’t have known the cards were laid out for her, but if she were a gambling player she could be ranked in the top five right now.”

“And where are they currently?” Gabe’s interest grew.

“Rio’s thirteenth and Eddie is sixteenth.”

Something about this whole thing reeked. Why would someone rig the tournament in such a manner? What was the point of setting up Rio and Eddie to win?

Chaotic scenarios clashed inside Rio’s mind, but she could come up with only one reasonable explanation—somebody wanted to discredit her.

“While I was perusing the audio feeds...” Dickie’s voice broke into Rio’s silent ramblings. “I found this conversation interesting.” He paused long enough to prepare the tape for playback. “I haven’t been able to identify the voices on the tape, but I can safely say it’s a pit boss and a casino customer.”

Waiting for the voices on the audiotape to begin, silence rippled around the table.

“
I need a one-hundred dollar marker
.” Even on the audiotape, the uncertainty in the woman’s voice was easily detectable.

After a brief intermission of soft static, a man’s voice replied, “
Here you are, Miss
.”

“
So what do I do now? Just wait a bit and then cash in my chips at the cage
?” The girl clearly sought guidance as she spoke in a lowered voice.

“
Yes.
” His tone sounded short and certain, and just above a whisper. “
Just wander around as if you’re playing some slots or something. Then cash in your chips and we’ll meet later, as I’ve already stipulated.
”

Dickie switched off the device. “The conversation was brief but interesting, I thought.” His comment signified the end of his disclosure and the onset of the FVC’s newest mystery.

“Let’s table the poker tournament until we see what happens today,” Gabe said with a dismissive wave. “I want everyone’s eyes and ears peeled. I want to know who those two are on the tape, and what they’re up to.”

If only Eddie could see what was going on inside this shady picture that’d been painted by the mysterious voices on Dickie’s audiotape. While the details weren’t clear, he could easily guess that it wasn’t good. Maybe, once he I-D’d the guy on the tape, he’d be one step closer to solving this weird thing going on with the poker tournament.