Sin on the Run (5 page)

“Stop trying to embarrass me. You're a big girl. I know you have sex—”

“Off-the-chart sex. I mean that man knows how to use what God gave him and, Maggie, God—”

“Stop it. I don't need to know what God gave him.” But she failed to keep a straight face.

So Rhonda ran with it. “Are you sure, because . . .” She held up her hands ready to give a great fish story when Maggie tugged them down.

“Locker talk is not nice.”

“Guys do it all the time,” Rhonda argued.

“Which is why women have evolved further. Now where were we?”

“Sex. Hot, dirty—”

“You're not the type of girl that sleeps around,” Maggie spoke over Rhonda. “I don't want you getting hurt. This morning Christian said Blake would give up a testicle,” she used air quotes, “to save another person's life. And had on more than one occasion saved Christian's, but I got the impression he was a
company
man. He's good to the
women
he's with but his job comes first. A couple of times, he'd have sworn Blake was going to marry the woman he was dating, and then Ryan would give him an assignment and by the time Blake returned, he'd broken it off.”

“Okay, Maggie, that's all fine and well, but what's it got to do with me? I slept with him. A one-time thing. I understand one night stands. Fine, I've never had one, but I understood what last night was. Come on, have you seen him? For once, I wanted something for me, something a little reckless, a little selfish, and—yeah, a little insane. Is that so bad?”

“No.” Maggie hugged her again. “And the fact that it nearly got you killed was totally coincidental.”

Rhonda drew back. “Was that a dig?”

Maggie smiled. “Nah.”

“Sarcastic—”

They were interrupted by Lieutenant Cooper. “Ladies, I need to talk to Rhonda.”

“How's Blake?” they said in unison.

“He's tough. This isn't his first shooting, so he knows what he's up against.”

Exactly how many times had the man been shot?

Approaching, he lowered his voice. “Right now, it's you I'm worried about.” He pointed to Rhonda.

“Me? I didn't get hurt.”

“Let's go somewhere private.” Cooper led the way, sticking his head into an empty room and seeing it occupied, tried another. Finding one, he motioned to one of the officers standing in the hall, to stand guard. Once the three of them were inside, he closed the door.

What was going on?

“Rhonda,” he started. “I know you only got a partial look at the guy, but did he see you?”

Rhonda thought for a minute, not eager to relive the whole ordeal. She pictured where she'd stood, spraying the cologne before he'd had time to turn around. “If he had, it was for a millisecond. I nailed the air with cologne. It nearly choked me.”

“Enough to ID you?”

“You think she's in danger?” Maggie was in mother hen mode.

“I don't want to scare either of you, but honestly, if he can identify Rhonda, then yes. I'm not going to insult your intelligence. That was a hit and Rhonda, you were witness to it.”

“And now she's in trouble. Isn't she?”

Rhonda was too stunned to say anything. To think that someone had been hired to kill him elevated the fear and anxiety factor from the “normal” Vegas level.

“Blake's going into hiding. And Rhonda,” he added, “that means you too.”

He wanted her to hide? “What for? He didn't see me and if he did, I didn't look like me,” she said, shockingly grateful for the lavender dress. “Very, very few people see me looking different from this.” She indicated her black clothes and heavily made up eyes. “He wouldn't be able to pick me out in a crowd. My hotel room was even registered under Maggie's name. So I'm safe. Thanks, but no thanks.”

After her father had died two years ago, Rhonda had gotten her life back. Actually, that was incorrect—she'd gained something she'd never had, and nobody, nobody, was going to dictate what she was going to do with her life. She answered to no one and was responsible for no one and that's how it was going to stay.

“Rhonda—”

“No way. I am not in danger, but hide me and whoever wants Blake dead will think I know something. I'm not stupid. Someone, somehow will get wind of this. But put me where everyone can see me and they'll know I saw nothing.”

“The feds won't like that.”

“Screw the feds. It's Blake they have to protect. Not me.”

“Ronnie, maybe you should listen to Horace,” Maggie said.

“Sorry, but I'm done listening. I want home, shower and sleep.” She headed for the door and grabbed the handle. “Mags, can you drive me?”

Maggie looked at Cooper. They exchanged a look that said neither was happy with her but resigned themselves to the fact she wouldn't change her mind. Maggie knew her so well.

“Y
ou have someone watching her, right?” Blake tugged the white sheet off his face.

“Of course,” Christian assured him, looking ridiculous in orderly scrubs and fake beard. He pulled the sheet back over Blake's face.

“Bloody hell, if I'd known she was that stubborn . . .”

“You'd have asked me for her phone number the moment you saw her walking up the aisle.”

True, he liked his women feisty, but refusing police protection was ludicrous, her logic flawed. It didn't matter that whoever had taken a shot at him hadn't gotten a good look at her. They'd know he'd been with a woman and they wouldn't stop until they found out who she was. Once they got him out of the hospital and spread the word he'd died, Blake would tell her so. If there was the slightest chance they could identify her, then it was the slightest chance too much.

He heard his hospital room door open and felt the gurney move as Christian and another federal agent rolled him out of his room. They'd gone all out to make this convincing. One hour earlier, the hospital had called a code blue and a team of trusted doctors and nurses had come running into his room with resuscitation equipment. They'd even removed the guards protecting him, as a dead man needed no protection. This plan of theirs might not work but it could give him a couple of days to disappear before anyone figured out they'd been tricked.

Blake wasn't done interrogating Christian about Rhonda's safety, but now in the hall, he had no choice but to stay quiet. Even in the elevator he had to control his breathing. There were hospital security cameras everywhere and not until they made it to the basement, where the video footage would be replaced with one of their own creation, would Blake be allowed to move.

The gurney rattled as they wheeled him into the elevator and several seconds later, out again. Once the doors swooshed closed, Christian removed the sheet.

“Should be one hell of a funeral. All those women in black.” His friend smirked. “All your talk about relationships and here I am the one married.”

“Odd, isn't it.” Blake had nothing against getting married. He, in fact, had had several close calls. But since the day his grandfather had made his intentions clear, things had changed. He shuddered to think how he'd almost married Sarah, now his brother's wife. He'd known Sarah was a social climbing bitch, but Colin had fallen in love and Blake didn't have it in him to break his brother's fragile heart.

Groaning, Blake pushed himself up. “Say a few kind words, will you, mate?”

Christian helped Blake off the gurney. “Careful, those stitches are fresh.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, will you put my ashes on your mantel?”

They'd arranged for a cremation, wanting no body to be dug up.

“Mantel? Nah. But I got a spot right beside the kitty litter.”

“You don't have a cat.”

“I'll get one and name him Scotty.”

Blake went to punch his friend's arm, then thought better of it. “Love you too. Now, get me out of here.”

“Ryan's arranged a plane on a private airstrip twenty miles out of town. There's a car ready to take us. Dozier's flying and he'll stay with you. The flight plans will say Seattle. Maggie and I were planning to fly in to attend the jazz festival after Paris, but better we stay clear of New Orleans, not give anyone a reason to go looking. Heavy tourist season, so should be easy to get lost, if you need to go into town. The house has all the supplies to take care of that injury. Here.” From his pocket he withdrew a pill bottle. “Take your meds. The last thing you want is an infection. Are you sure you don't want the feds to get you a nurse?”

“No, I can handle this.” It hurt like a son of a bitch, but they'd had to move fast. If someone was going to buy his dying, it had to be soon after he'd been shot.

“Okay, Ryan said the house is fully stocked.”

“Weapons?”

“You need to ask?”

Blake shrugged. “I have my own, but a shotgun will be nice in case one of those gators mistakes me for dinner.”

Christian laughed, the agent with them looking puzzled. “Shoot one of Ryan's pets and it'll be your hide covering his boots.”

“Who the hell keeps something with that much jaw power as pets?” Blake had heard that one of Ryan's gardeners had found a hand in the alligator pit. It could have been a rumor. Or not.

Their boss was known for many things. He donated a bundle to charity, serving on several philanthropic boards. He liked beautiful women, and they in turn loved him. Rich didn't begin to describe his bank account and to say he had outlandish and bizarre tastes was an understatement. All that aside, fuck with one of his own and your ass was his. He and Christian's new wife had that in common.

They discussed not going to a place so obvious, but what better place to hide than the obvious until he recovered? Everyone, including the trash ICU had taken down, knew how shrewd their boss was. So what better place to disappear than under everyone's nose, just in case someone figured out the funeral was bullshit.

“Rhonda?” Blake wouldn't be able to relax until he knew she was safe. He'd never forgive himself if an innocent woman lost her life because of him.

“Maggie promised to talk sense into her, and if all else fails, she has Wendy as back-up. That woman could convince nuns they needed birth control. So don't be surprised to find a beer delivery truck on the tarmac.”

“Is that how they'll get her out of the club?”

“There's an alley behind Heart's Desire for delivery. It's a tight fit. They can slip Rhonda in with no one seeing. The only hard part will be getting her stubborn ass inside it.”

“Shouldn't be a problem.” Cooper waited for them as they exited the basement.

“You've known that woman a lot longer than I have, but even I know she has a hard head,” Christian said.

“So does the woman you married,” Cooper pointed out. “But that's not it. In the twenty-four hours since the shooting, one of Maggie's managers caught something interesting on the surveillance videos at the club.”

After having a serial killer stalk her and her dancers, Maggie had decided cameras would be a good idea. Christian had trained her security team to watch faces, to take note of regulars or anyone who didn't seem to belong.

Cooper pulled out a picture and handed it to Christian. Not recognizing it, he passed it to Blake. “Know him?”

Blake looked down at the black and white shot. “Saints above, tell me Maggie is going to get her on this plane.” If he thought he could do it himself he would, but showing up at the club wouldn't be his brightest move.

“Who is it?” Christian asked.

“That,” he said, passing the picture back to his friend, “is Krupin's man, Ivan Orlov. We suspected he's the one who was sent to kill Juan Desilva's son as retribution for losing the stones.”

That hit had triggered the series of events that brought Maggie and Christian together. Desilva wanted revenge since Maggie had been the one to put him in jail. Because she'd cost him and Sorrentino a bundle in diamonds and human trafficking, she became his target. Only his hitman had been a deranged serial killer.

“I'll call Maggie, let her know to tell Rhonda she doesn't have a choice. Looks like the two of you will be spending more time together. But, Blake, do me a favor?” Christian said.

“Sure, what?”

“When you feel better, try to keep it in your pants.”

“Excuse me guys, can you give us a minute?” Blake said to Cooper and the agent acting as bodyguard.

He waited until both men were out of earshot. “Does she strike you as the type of woman who'd do anything she didn't want to?”

“I know. But my wife doesn't care. She's very protective of the women who dance for her, and Rhonda is special. Maggie doesn't think she's dealt with the attack on her, and if, intentionally or otherwise, you hurt Rhonda, there won't be anything I can do to protect you.”

“We're friends, Christian. More than friends. Do you honestly think I would intentionally hurt the woman?”

“Not intentionally, no. But you have this habit of making every woman you date think that she's
the one
and poof.” He snapped his fingers. “You're gone.”

“We're not dating, are we? Not to be crass, but what happened between us was just sex. I should have been on a plane to my next assignment by now.”

“And when you saw her again? What then?”

“What are you talking about? Why would I see her . . . damn.” The reality of it slapped him in the face. Blake was Christian's friend and Maggie was Rhonda's. Of course they'd see each other again.

“Figured it out, did you?”

“Fine, but I didn't deliberately . . . I mean, I hadn't planned to. . . .” He let out a frustrated growl. “It just happened.”

“I suggest you see that it doesn't
happen
again.”

“You're right. It can't happen again.”

“It
won't
happen again, right?”

“I just said—”

“No, you just said it can't.
Big
difference. I knew on some level that when I said ‘it can't' or ‘I shouldn't' with Maggie, that I was trying to talk myself out of something I really wanted . . . and knew damn well I was going to get. And look how that turned out. I married her.”

But that wasn't going to happen with Blake. He couldn't marry her or any other woman. Not until Colin had that baby and secured the inheritance for himself. His grandfather's will had been specific on that. Blake would have his grandmother off his back and Colin happily set for life. “I'm not going to marry Rhonda.”

“Right,” Christian said, “remember that. Rhonda isn't like other women. She practically raised herself. She
did
raise herself. She's not stupid. But, Blake, I've seen how women respond to you. So for your sake and hers, pretty boy, tone down the fairy dust.”

“What's with the bloody fairy dust? But yeah, I got it. Fairy dust off.” Again he resisted the urge to punch his friend.

Christian had this nasty habit of always pointing out how much shit Blake's looks landed him in. As a federal agent he and Christian had been assigned as undercover strippers to take down a human trafficker. That assignment had garnered him and Christian a job offer from Ryan Sheppard. And Ryan never seemed to forget how they'd met. While the other guys tracked assignments to jungles, mountains or war-infected countries, Blake was pimped out. Hell, even on his last mission, Ryan had arranged for him to work as a cover model. It sucked. He was good at his job and Ryan knew it, but for once, would it kill the guy to give him an assignment that didn't involve him smiling like half his brain had been sucked out?

* * *

“This is ridiculous,” Rhonda complained. “And it stinks in here.”

“Shut up, sit down and careful with that draught keg.” Maggie pointed to the arm Rhonda had perched over two kegs of Guinness. “I don't want to be peeled off this truck floor. Now chill.”

She wanted to argue but Maggie was as stubborn as she was. She took a seat on the keg beside Maggie. “Maybe he was there scoping the place out.”

“Sure. Why not? A little entertainment between killing people.”

“You don't know,” Rhonda argued.

“Right, we don't know. That's why you need to do as everyone suggests. The police, the feds, and more importantly, Christian, all think you need to do this.”

“I don't like it.” She sounded whiny, childish, even to her own ears.

“No, you don't like being told what to do.”

“That too,” she admitted and crossed her arms.

And the idea of being trapped with a man she'd just had a one-night stand with wasn't exactly high on her list of likes. If life handed her a bouquet of flowers, something or someone stomped on them. When she was ten, after her very first sleepover, she'd come home to find her father unconscious in the bathroom covered in vomit, his arm broken when he'd fallen. The night he'd convinced her to go to her prom, before she'd even left the apartment, he'd left a frying pan on the stove and nearly burned the building down. And when she'd decided to make something of herself and gone to college, before she could finish, he'd had a stroke. Sleeping with Blake had been an indulgence. It might not have been the reason the universe had decided to take its revenge out on him, but nothing good could come out of them spending any more time together.

“This is ridiculous. How long am I expected to hide? The cops already know who he is.”

“And they're looking for him. But we've been over this. You can put him in Blake's hotel room, making you a witness to murder.”

“Attempted. You mean attempted murder.”

“Not as far as this guy is concerned. Blake died,” she looked at her watch “over an hour ago.”

Rhonda shivered. She'd known what they were planning and still, it made her sick inside. Fake or not, it was unsettling.

“Until this is all resolved, you need to be safe.”

“You're being a mother hen again.” And again her life was being manipulated by someone else. And again, she was being left without a choice. Hide or die.

“Yes,” Maggie agreed, her voice growing louder. “I lost two women I cared about to the bastard who tried to take Shannon, and that psycho's kid nearly killed you. I won't risk losing you again.”

“That's not fair.” The women's deaths had been hard on everyone, but Maggie had taken it personally. Rhonda had hated watching Maggie go through that, and knew she blamed herself for their deaths.