Vegas, Baby (3 page)

A sense of rivalry cut through Rio, although she couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it had something to do with this woman looking so much like her, enough that they could be sisters.

Rio stepped toward the elevator. Something inside her shivered when the stranger passed her by. Rio tried shaking it off. She punched the first-floor button and forgot about her look-alike as soon as the doors closed.

The elevator began its descent with a thud and Rio reached inside her leather bag, fishing for her keys. Finding nothing, she dug deeper and rooted around. No keys. Had she left them in LaCall’s room?

What
? She questioned her bad luck. He would no doubt dish out some precocious comeback. Irritation stained her disposition as she rode the elevator back up to the fifth floor.

Wisecracks, she could handle. She was ready for those. But she wasn’t so sure about the implications. His suggestive innuendos had her thinking all sorts of tempting ideas that should remain off-limits.

Rio didn’t want to think about his mouth on hers. The heat of his bare skin against hers. His fingers trailing a path down—

Trudging down the corridor, she tried to shake the thought out of her head. She hesitated outside Eddie’s room before pushing against the door. Remnants of the mental indiscretion burned hot against her cheeks, and she struggled to deny them re-entry into her thoughts.

She entered the room and all she had worked for, every bit of good judgment she’d managed to acquire during the drawn-out walk down the corridor—it felt a lot longer this time—shot out in fifty different directions at the sight of her look-alike from the elevator standing over Eddie.

The ability to speak was one of those precious commodities that’d jumped ship and she didn’t stand a prayer’s chance of regaining it for at least another five minutes.

There was something going on with Eddie and
elevator girl
. What, Rio couldn’t be sure. But the tension was there, and all of it rushed toward her as if she were a magnet.

Her chest constricted and she fumbled for words. “Oh, sorry.” The only ones Rio could come up with were tinged with a bite. “I forgot my keys,” she added, trying to rationalize her reason for returning.

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie flashed that devastating grin of his and revealed her keys in his hand.

“Well, I’ll just take my keys and get out of your hair.” In a desperate gesture, she grabbed at them. Eddie yanked them out of her reach.

Exasperation, disappointment, even a twinge of jealousy flushed hot against her face. Feeling wholly out of place, and the butt of a thousand jokes between the two of them, she wanted to run before she embarrassed herself further.

But then the girl question him. “Eddie, who’s this?”

Uncertainty breathed out in a long, deep sigh. She knew the answer to that. His partner. Rio knew
they
were an impossibility, but she wasn’t ready to have it thrown in her face and in front of his girlfriend, or worse yet—his wife.

Eddie grabbed Rio’s wrist, as if he knew the thoughts speeding through her brain. “This is my partner, Rio Laraquette.” His tone, calm and cool, blanketed her in a sense of security. But she recognized the bogus act. She was beginning to feel like a third wheel who harbored a secret crush, helplessly in love and hopelessly out of her league.

“Well, isn’t that original. You have a river named after you.” The girl’s words, heavy with sarcasm, mocked Rio.

Eddie ignored her snide comments. Why wouldn’t he? He surely wouldn’t get into a fight over his brand-new partner. And he wasn’t letting go of Rio’s arm either.

She fancied that somewhere in the remote corners of his mind he knew Rio could kick the girl’s ass. Not that she would. But she could, and that was enough.

“Rio, this is Naomi Thomas. I knew her in Phoenix.”

“Knew me?” Naomi cackled, and Rio thought the girl’s head might explode. “That’s one way to put it.”

Rio, still trapped in Eddie’s grasp, attempted to free herself. He tightened his grip.

“Could you give us a minute?” he said to Naomi.

“What?” Naomi’s eyes widened and her head sprang forward. “You’re asking me to leave?”

“Yes.”

Rio recoiled. Maybe Naomi’s head wasn’t going to explode, but her bulging eyes were on the verge of popping out. If that happened, they’d become projectile missiles headed straight for Eddie.

The girl scared Rio, and she wasn’t afraid of much.

She waited until Naomi was in the hallway. “Hey, look.” She paused, hoping to salvage at least some of her diminishing dignity. “I don’t want to get in the way of you and your girl.”

“Jealous, Laraquette?”

“In your dreams.”

“That’s one of my favorites.”

Bite me
. She managed to contain the snappy comeback to just a thought, knowing what he’d do with that response.

He stood, his mouth twisting with a devilish grin. “Did you bring the car around?”

A scream charged up Rio’s throat. He knew she hadn’t brought the damned car around. A lacerating growl choked the shrieking urge to pieces.

“Perhaps you should get a ride from your girlfriend,” she said, pleased at how nonchalant she sounded.

He laid the keys in her hand, holding his palm against hers a bit longer than she liked. “Go get the car and bring it around front. I’ll be down shortly.” He scooped his cell phone off the nightstand. “I’m going to get rid of Naomi.”

“Yeah, right.” Rio snorted and moved toward the door.

“Can I drive?”

“No,” she said without looking back.

In the hallway, Naomi’s stare, long and cold and hard, felt like she was cursing Rio with some evil-eye voodoo crap.

Rio shuddered, walked on past and gave her a quick, uneasy smile. Even without turning around she could feel Naomi’s glare burrowing a heated hole deep in her back.

She prayed the girl would go back into Eddie’s room, as opposed to following her into the elevator.

CHAPTER 3

IN A matter of minutes Eddie LaCall’s problems had tripled. The single dilemma he had half an hour ago, an anonymous text message threatening “
that bitch
” was worry enough. He’d thought it was meant for Rio, but now that Naomi had shown up he wasn’t so sure.

What if
they
knew why he was here? What if
they
thought Naomi was a way to get to him? Was he prepared to sacrifice her for his own selfish purposes? Could the end ever really justify the means?

Damn it. She picked a hell of a time to decide, all on her own, that he wanted her with him. And that brought about his third problem—Rio Laraquette had erected an impenetrable wall around her the minute she saw Naomi at his bedside.

Getting close to Rio was crucial. The closer the better. Now that Naomi had interfered with his plans, he’d have to think fast and do some critical damage control to get his new partner back where he needed her, totally enamored and trusting.

He had to get rid of Naomi, for both their sakes, and it wouldn’t be easy. The girl was accustomed to getting what she wanted.

She stalked back into the room. The anger in her eyes tapered into desperation and sadness. He almost felt sorry for her. Naomi Thomas, for the first time in her life, probably wanted what she could not have. Him.

“Naomi,” Eddie said. “Go home.”

“I can’t.” Her coffee brown eyes were beginning to swim inside a pool of liquid anguish. Her body swayed, she was fighting the tears.

“You have to.”

“You need me.” Her voice elevated and tightened. “I need you.”

“What I need is for you to go home, Naomi.” He kept his tone calm and even. He’d learned early on, matching her hysterics only encouraged her.

“It’s her, isn’t it? You want me to leave because of her?”

“You have to go home. I’m wrapped up in something dangerous here and I don’t want you involved.”

She sucked in a shallow sigh, and said, “You do care about me.”

“Sure, I care about you, Naomi. But like I told you weeks ago,” he said, “I’m just not in love with you.”

That stung. He saw it in her eyes. They turned cold and hard.

Eddie didn’t have time to soothe Naomi’s ego. He had a job to do, one that required getting closer to Rio. Much, much closer. Something he couldn’t do as long as Naomi was around.

He said goodbye, shooed her out the door and hoped, for her sake, that she’d take his advice and return to Phoenix.

Nurse Jennifer escorted Eddie downstairs in a wheelchair to where Rio was waiting in a 1961 red Corvette. He could appreciate the beauty of both the car and its driver. What man in his right mind wouldn’t approve of and admire a fully restored, vintage Vette? His father would have.

Eddie didn’t want to start getting all sentimental now. He turned to Rio, who’d opened the passenger door for him. “Sure you don’t want me to drive…?” He let the words trail off onto a path of playful laughter.

“Get in the car, LaCall.” Her voice was edged with control.

He did as she instructed, but sooner or later he would finagle his way into the driver’s seat. Inside the car and out.

She was mostly quiet while they drove to a quaint café downtown. She’d said she was hungry. Her silence was probably due in large part to Naomi’s sudden and unexpected arrival.

People can’t help who they’re attracted to, but they do have control over their actions. Rio Laraquette might not want to admit it, but Eddie saw that she had a thing for him. Whether or not she’d act upon it was another matter.

Lunch was going pretty well. Eddie was torn between the effects of the pain killers and his desire to eat. Rio talked about a lot of stuff, but the meds kept most of it from registering inside his mind. He thought of many things to talk about but couldn’t keep focused long enough to settle on any one idea. Olivia came to mind but it probably wasn’t a good idea to let anyone know his weakness. For now he’d keep Olivia right where she belonged, inside his heart.

Some drunk guy stumbled and fell into a waitress carrying a tray full of drinks. Rio suffered the worst of it, getting soaked. It pissed Eddie off more than it bothered her.

Maybe he reacted as such because he felt the need to
save her
, because he thought he owed her. But if he really wanted to impress a girl like Rio, he’d have to do better than yelling at an overworked waitress in an overcrowded restaurant.

Rio had pummeled a guy to save Eddie’s life, a virtual stranger, but showed amazing reserve when personally insulted by Naomi and doused by the waitress’s tray.

It wasn’t until the meds began to wear off and Rio announced she needed to drop by her place to change that he decided he should go back and drop the waitress a big fat tip. Thanks to her, he was getting a look inside his new partner’s apartment.

“It’ll only take a minute,” she said, entering the parking garage of the Rio Grande Towers. An upscale high-rise located just off the Strip.

“This is where you live?” He was impressed, confused and curious all at the same time and he tried to hide the shortcomings.

“Yep.”

Eddie’s new partner was sporting around town in a smokin’ Corvette, and she was probably the only cop in an apartment building clearly outside a cop’s budget—a clean one anyway.

She parked the car in a reserved spot next to the elevators. “Five minutes.” She acknowledged the stains on her blouse and slacks, which had begun to dry. “You want to come up?”

“Well, I kind of like the wet T-shirt look you’ve got going on,” he said, opening the car door.

He wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get inside her apartment, for various reasons. He was starting to wonder how she afforded her pricey lifestyle. There could be a plausible explanation. It could go fifty-fifty, either way. Until it dipped in one direction or the other, he’d put his judgment on hold pending more corroborating evidence.

“If I were a criminal,” she said, and he followed her into a long, winding corridor inside the building, “I would never agree to sell you hot guns after knowing you only a few weeks.”

“Neither would I. But how often does the criminal mind think logically?”

Not as often as they should. Otherwise they wouldn’t get caught.

She led him around a corner and through double doors to a security doorman sitting behind a desk.

“Afternoon, Miss Rio.” The guard, a thin, well-dressed man in his forties with graying hair at the temples, greeted her with a toothy smile.

“How’s it going, Larry?” She paused, pointing a thumb at Eddie. “This is my partner, Eddie LaCall. Anytime he shows up here, let him through.”

“You got it.” Larry gave Eddie a quick nod.

Trailing behind Rio, Eddie returned Larry’s nod with a swift once-over. Inside the elevator, she punched the twentieth button. The top floor. The penthouse? A definite piece of corroborating evidence.

The sodas, teas and waters from the spill back at the restaurant had settled into her clothing like a giant sore, but it didn’t seem to bother her. He contemplated getting her into something more comfortable. Or at least revealing.

Bad. That’s bad, LaCall
. He may be there to draw her in, but he wasn’t supposed to be the one ending up smitten.

The elevator doors opened at the twentieth floor and he pursued her into the short hallway.

“So why don’t you put on that little outfit you were wearing when we busted Bellmore?” His suggestion masked his survey of the twentieth floor. Just two doors. Two penthouses.

“In your dreams.” Sarcasm shrouded her laughter and she opened the door.

“You’ve been there. Many times,” he said, taking a quick scan of the interior. A splendid penthouse feathered with fine furnishings.

She threw her keys onto a small antique-looking table by the door, moved across a sunken and spacious living room and disappeared behind a door on the other side of the kitchen.

Eddie scrutinized his surroundings. The room cast an impression of opulence. Extra padding cushioned the plush gray carpet beneath his booted feet.

A couch and a loveseat looked inviting and he had no doubt they’d feel like sitting on a cloud. The peach and lavender pattern was different, one he’d never choose, but it was somehow bearable to his senses.

The right side of the room included a striking window, it must have been ten-feet high and spanned the width of the wall. He’d bet it overlooked the Strip. What a magnificent view that must be at night.

This place didn’t just suggest corruption, it was a big red flag screaming
look at me
.

* * *

Rio dressed quickly into tan slacks and a matching front-buttoning blouse. As she slipped her feet into a pair of Earth Shoes at the foot of the bed, her cell phone jingled inside the pocket of her soiled pants. She grabbed her slacks and fished out her phone.

Digger
.

Odd for her to be calling. Odd and scary. She only called during work hours when there were signs of impending trouble.

“Dig, talk to me. What’s up?”

“You’re not going to like it.” There was an edge to her voice. One that told Rio she was worried.

“Just give it to me straight.”

“The tea leaves are against you.”

“What?”

Oh, boy. Here we go again. Rio had a hard time acknowledging the validity of such things, but so far that hadn’t had any effect on Digger’s prediction accuracy.

“For three days in a row, I’ve been seeing the same thing.” She dropped the bomb and then stopped.

Why did she do that? She knew it annoyed Rio.

“On track, Dig. Let’s stay on track.”

“You know I’m not fond of that,” she said. “Especially when it’s this bad.”

“How bad is bad?”

“I’m seeing two problems for you.”

“Two?” Rio uttered the word weaker than she’d anticipated.

“Someone is watching you.”

“Am I in danger?”

“They’re watching your every move.” The silence on the line made the seconds lag like eons. “I don’t know who and I don’t know why, but their focus on you is bordering on creepy.”

Rio gave the anonymous letter some much needed attention. Retrieving it from her desk drawer at work and scrutinizing it further moved up to the top of her to-do list.

“You mean like stalker-y kind of creepy?” She felt for the edge of the bed and eased down.

“Yes, so be careful.” There it was again, that eerie quiet on the line. “You know how easy it is for the stalker personality to go from fantasy to anger.”

“Yes.” That was easy for a lot of people, not just those with stalker-tendencies. “What else?” Rio hadn’t forgotten that she’d said two things. Given the facts of the first, the second was weighing heavy like a large boulder.

“Someone wants to discredit you.”

Rio’s mind jammed with a chaotic surge of information. Nervous anxiety hammered her heart with a good workout. “Can you be a little more specific?”

“You’re working with someone who is not what they seem,” she said. “A mole.”

“A mole?” Shock and worry rippled through her like a flag waving in the wind. “Can you see their purpose or who they’re working for?”

“I don’t think their initial intent was directed at you, but it seems to be turning in your path lately.”

A puffing sound echoed across the wire and Rio knew Digger was lighting candles. For once, she hoped they worked.

“Is it Atkins?” A low strained voice gave way to anxiety. Rio was beginning to think the Las Vegas mob boss was going to be a source of irritation for years to come.

“It’s possible, but I can’t be sure.”

“I can. That’s just like Atkins to play these games. Discredit me so he can get an acquittal.”

“I can’t be sure. Don’t discard your other suspicions so easily.”

“Well, it may not be Atkins directly.” Rio pushed off the bed. “But he sure would benefit if someone succeeds in ruining my rep as a Fed, now wouldn’t he?” It wasn’t really a question and Rio knew Digger understood that.

“Rio...” Her voice trailed off into a tone of uncertainty. “Whatever’s going on, I can’t help but feel that both issues are tied together.”

Panic spilled shivers up her body. If Atkins had planted a spy in the department and was behind her stalking, he was much more powerful than she’d imagined.

“Dig, can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?”

“Sure. Want me to drop by the federal building around one?”

“That sounds great.” That’s what Rio liked about Digger, she never had to spell it out for her. Maybe she could pick up on the trickery going on inside the department tomorrow and nobody would be the wiser. It would be disguised as a casual lunch date between friends.

Rio eased the phone shut and slipped it inside her pants’ pocket. If Digger was right, this was bad.

Who was she kidding? Digger was always right. This was no time to start doubting a woman who’d been nicknamed for her ability to “dig” into her powers of clairvoyancy and predict nothing but accurate prophecies. Not once had Digger been wrong in all the years Rio had known her—since junior high.

Fear knotted apprehension inside Rio’s gut. Sheer resilience moved her toward the door. If somebody was out to get her, was the note she found on her desk real? Did that letter have anything to do with the spy inside the department?

Suddenly, nothing about her world felt safe.

Opening the door, she heard Eddie’s voice, soft and low. Instinct and uneasiness urged her to stop and listen.

“I don’t know,” Eddie was saying. “I think I can salvage it, but you need to make sure the obstacle is removed.”

Obstacle? What obstacle? And what exactly did Eddie think he could salvage?

Perhaps Rio’s analysis that Eddie LaCall was too good to be true wasn’t too far off base.

Was he the mole? Rio didn’t like condemning the man without proof, but he was definitely up to something. If he was the spy, what did he know about that creepy letter?

Suddenly, Eddie LaCall lost a bit of his appeal.