Deadly Odds (14 page)

Add the formal tone to his voice and—yep—she had an unhappy fellow. “No. As long as I have new keys, it’s fine. I always keep the safety on anyway. If this creep wants to find me again, he will. What happened with the desk clerk?”

Something sparked in his eyes and he hesitated a moment, obviously choosing his words. “A man claiming to be your husband called the desk.”

Huh.
That
was a new one. “My
husband
?”

“Yes. And, just so you know, we’ve confirmed you don’t have a husband. Apparently my chief of security checked that when you were hired.”

“Great. Good to know I’m not hitched.”

A half smile littered his face. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood for sarcasm. Well, too bad. She’d had a tough night. “Do we know who this person is?”

“Not yet.” He pulled his phone, tapped on it and flipped it so Kate could see the screen. “Recognize him?”

She took the phone from him, watched a man wearing a sport coat walk up to the registration desk.

“This is my supposed husband?”

“Yep.”

She rewound and watched again. “I don’t recognize him. He’s not the one who left the note.”

“The build is wrong.”

“Exactly.”

“We’re on it. Don has surveillance tracing his route.”

“No one would be stupid enough to stay in the hotel after something like this. If nothing else, we can see where he handed off my room key to our hoodie friend.”

Ross slid out of his jacket and tossed it over the back of the desk chair before dropping onto the sofa. He rested his head back and closed his eyes. If his slumped shoulders—completely unnatural for Ross, Mr. Always Pristine—were any indication, he needed about a month’s worth of sleep.

She sat next to him, curling her legs under her. A few strands of his hair fell over his forehead and she made a move to brush them back, but caught herself. Why, why, why did she always want to put her hands on him? She dropped her hand, let it rest in her lap. “You look beat. You should sleep.”

He opened his eyes and angled in her direction. “I know. I’d like to figure out who this guy is first. Has anyone been hassling you? Paying extra attention? Could be someone who spotted you at one of the tables downstairs.” He snapped his fingers. “What about the dumbass from blackjack that was bugging you? The one from yesterday when we met.”

“The beer gut? Could be, but I doubt it. I haven’t seen him since and he was bigger than either of the men in the videos.”

“How about that crew from the lounge? The ones making the lewd comments.”

She thought back, tried to picture the group of men sitting across from her.
Could be.
But, truth be told, she wasn’t sure.

She scrunched her nose. “Not sure. But, I’m tired. We’re both tired. Can we get some sleep and talk about this in the morning?”

“You shouldn’t be alone. I’ll put someone at your door.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“After I put someone at your door, yes, you will. And what about people outside of Fortuna? Anyone? Maybe a boyfriend you had a fight with or something.”

Kate sighed. “You don’t give up. No, Ross. The only boyfriend I’ve had recently was one I’d been with for three years. We broke up, but it was amicable.”

He shrugged. “People do weird things when relationships end.”

“Not him. First of all, John is a damned fine police officer. Second, it’s not his style. Third, we split months ago and countless times before that. We loved each other. Very much. He wouldn’t hurt me. And he’s never done anything—even remotely—like this. But, if you want to go there, what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, mister serial dater. We’ve been seen together over the last two days. Maybe a former girlfriend got jealous and she’s trying to scare me off.”

His face went slack, the mental acceptance that his lifestyle could have impacted the situation.

Lightly, she smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “Relax. I just threw that out there to prove a point.”

“It’s valid though. Jesus, I’m a pig.”

“You’re not a pig. You’re a single man in Vegas.”

He smiled, clearly happy with that response. “I could love you,” he said.

“Of course you could.”

“I’m serious. You get me. I don’t usually have that.”

“Comfort is one thing. Relationships are another. I’m not ready for you. And, as much as you want to think you’re ready for me, you’re not. You don’t know anything about me or what I expect from the men in my life.”

He locked his gaze on hers for a second then let it drift down. To her lips and—oh, no—that whump, whump in her chest kicked up.

He dipped his head lower. “So tell me.”

Oh, she’d tell him. She’d tell him and it would scare the hell out of him and they’d both come to their senses and quit this flirtation they had going. She set one hand on his chest. Gave him a light shove to back him up and break that wicked hot energy spewing between them. “Fine. Brace yourself.”

He laughed.

“Monogamy,” she said. “I don’t sleep with men unless we’re exclusive. Call me old-fashioned but I don’t want to think about what my man is doing when not with me. I need that.”

“Kate—”

“Before you assure me how capable you are I don’t need you to. I know enough about you to know you could set your mind to anything. You don’t become gaming’s poster boy without determination.”

“Where’s the but?”

Smart boy. She wagged a finger. “I don’t want you to set your mind to it. I want you to do it because it comes naturally. Because I’m enough for you.” She propped her elbow on the back of the sofa, rested her hand over his shoulder and patted. “We’re way ahead of ourselves with this. Let’s focus on figuring out who came into my room tonight and keeping him from doing it again.”

Chapter Eight

“Son of a bitch.”

Ross stared at his morning report while his head nearly exploded. Fifteen percent. How the hell did this happen?

“Jesus Christ!” came Don’s loud shout from the outer hallway.

“He’s in his office,” Marcia said, her voice calm as could be.

She’d gotten used to Don’s yelling.

Don swung around the corner, his suit jacket flying open, belly protruding, face turning weird shades of purple. Ross hoped the guy didn’t have a heart attack on his floor.

He waved a report. “Kid, did you see this?”

“Just saw it. Mini-bac down fifteen percent.”

“Mini-bac again!”

“Marcia?” Ross called. “Would you find Kate for me please?”

“On it.”

Ross motioned Don to a chair. “Sit.”

“I can’t sit.”

Instead, he paced the room, flapping his arms. Ross walked to his fridge, grabbed a water and handed it to his counterpart. “Old man, you need to sit, take a slug of this water and relax before you throw a coronary. Die on me and I’ll be pissed.”

Don accepted the water, ripped the cap off, drank half and waved the bottle. “There. Happy? Now I’ll have to piss like a racehorse. My goddamn prostate is going bad too.”

“You’re a mess.” He set his hand on Don’s shoulder and shoved him to a chair. “Settle down. We’ll get Kate in here and have her take a look at the video from last night. As soon as we’re done you need to make a doctor’s appointment. I’m not kidding. Your blood pressure just blew the roof off the place.”

“I’m here,” Kate said, swinging into the office.

She wore a simple navy dress that fit every curve and Ross’s mind traveled to what might be underneath.

He cleared his throat, got his head out of his ass. “Morning.”

She pointed at Don. “And for what it’s worth, coming from someone you barely know, he’s right. You should make that appointment.” She reached the desk, but didn’t sit. “What’s up?”

“Mini-bac,” Don hollered. “Down fifteen percent. Swear to God, when I find this guy I’m taking his entire arm off. And hey,” he maneuvered sideways and looked up at Kate, “we trailed the guy who scammed your key from our front desk. He got into the elevator with the other asshole—the one in that hooded sweatshirt?—and slipped him the key. Then he left the hotel. By cab. SOB is smart. Not even a plate we can run.”

“But,” Kate said, “we can call the cab company. See where they took him.”

“Did that. They drove him into town, dropped him off and the last the cabbie saw, he was walking down the street. He’s in the wind.”

“Smart,” Kate said. “He probably left his car in town, waited for the cab to leave and drove off. What about Mr. Hoodie?”

“Same deal. Left in a cab. Both gone.”

Kate pulled a face. “Thank you for trying. Let’s hope for some prints from the room. Let me get into this mini-bac thing from last night.”

Ross sat behind his desk, drummed his fingers for a second. “We’ll need you to take a look at the video again. See if you can find anything. Obviously, we didn’t catch it.”

“And I’d like to speak with the dealers. See if they saw anything.”

Ross’s intercom beeped. “Ross, I have Samuels for you. Be warned, he doesn’t sound happy.”

That didn’t take long. The report hadn’t been out ten minutes and already Samuels was on them. “Put him through.”

“Ah, shit,” Don spat.

Ross glanced at Don and Kate. “Buckle up, kids.” He hit the speaker button. “Morning, Bob. I have Kate and Don in here. We just saw the numbers.”

Better to beat the boss to the punch. Do an end run and hope like hell for the best.

“Fifteen percent!” Samuels thundered.

Don waved both arms at the phone. “Bob, calm down. We’re on it. Give us thirty minutes and we’ll report back.”

“Fuck thirty minutes. You got a so-called security expert there and I spent a fortune hiring the best surveillance team in Vegas. Get me answers.”

Ross winced. Bob could be a hothead, but he typically didn’t drop f-bombs in front of women. Particularly ones who worked for him. “Kate was just leaving my office to start on it.”

“Mr. Samuels,” Kate said, “I’ll speak with the dealers and review the video. If mini-bac was hit last night, I’ll figure out who did it and how.”

“You’d better. If we’ve got a cheat, I want you there 24/7 before we lose our asses. Ross’ll get you a room and I’ll pay you whatever necessary, but I want you accessible until we rectify this.”

24/7? How the hell was that gonna work?

Kate stood, mouth hanging open. Welcome to the wacky world of Bob Samuels. Ross took pity on her.

“Bob, Kate was here all night. She came back up from Vegas after I called her about someone we were watching.”

“Good. Then she won’t mind doing it again.”

Don and Ross both glanced at her. The decision would be hers, but she was sharp enough to know if she wanted a career in Vegas—in all of gaming, really, because Samuels had a far reach—she’d better agree.

“Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”

“I need you to figure out why my casino is losing money. And do it fast.”

* * *

Ten hours into a day filled with questioning dealers, studying table play and having one of Fortuna’s drivers take her home so she could pack, Kate returned to the suite Ross had arranged for her the previous night.

Between the chaos of these last days and Mark’s death, her energy had tanked. Severely. And Angel had gone quiet on her. No updates into their friend’s death.

She jotted a note to call Angel in the morning.

For now, she’d focus on her current task. At least in the suite, she could throw on her PJ’s and prop her feet up while reviewing the remaining mini-bac footage from the previous night. She’d already studied it, frame by tedious frame, for hours. The only thing of interest had been the woman at the table writing down the cards dealt at each hand. Which was allowed in mini-bac.

Still, maybe it was something.

Maybe not.

She’d look into it.

In the next frame, elderly Mrs. Miller sat down at the table. Kate smiled. The woman had clearly recovered from her fall and, although moving slowly, seemed well enough to sit at the tables and gamble.

Good for her.

A knock on the suite door had Kate glancing down at her flannel lounge pants. The guard Ross had insisted putting out there?

She checked the peephole found a waiter on the other side. She’d met him the day before when Ross had introduced her to the members of his VIP team.

“Room service, Ms. Daniels,” he said.

“I didn’t order.”

“Compliments of Mr. Cooper.”

The bastard.

His being nice would not help her quest to not fall for him. And her being rude by sending this man away without even opening the door would not score her any points with Ross—her client—or his staff.

The bastard.

She opened the door. “Hello, Damon.”

He pushed the cart through the doorway and Kate noted a glass pitcher of iced tea and a bottle of wine on the tray. The man was covering all bases and had paid enough attention to know she liked iced tea.