by Kelly Wood
“You snake!” Frank spat at Michael when he finally caught his breath.
Michael wiped his nose on the sleeve of his suit coat. Blood stained his white shirt. My dad’s foot on his chest held him in place while his right hand put pressure on Frank’s shoulder. Michael stayed lying down on the ground, trying to catch his breath.
“Don’t you pretend like you are the better man. I wasn’t the one with the hammer that night, you were.” Michael pointed at Frank, jabbing his finger into the air between them. My dad kept his hand on Frank’s shoulder, pushing him down as he tried to lunge again at Michael.
Gracie had had enough. She bolted from the room, slamming the door to my bedroom. The loud noise made me jump. Silence filled the room as we all stared at each other. I finally broke it.
“Get up. Both of you. Frank, take us to the security office.”
“Why would I do that?” Frank asked. His voice came out in a nasal whine because he had it pinched between his thumb and finger to stop the bleeding.
“We need to see the security tapes of where they went,” I said.
“They left the hotel. That’s what the tapes will show. I’ve had security scour the hotel. They aren’t here,” Frank said.
“I have three more hours to kill,” I said, checking my watch. “I need to do something useful. Now. Show. Me. The. Tapes.”
My dad yanked Frank up from the couch. Michael groaned as my dad’s foot pressed further into his chest. “Let’s go.”
Michael dragged himself from the floor and followed us to the elevator. I snagged Liam to come with us while the rest of the group went back inside the hotel suite. Liam kissed Jax on the cheek before following me. My dad and Passion had a heated whispered argument, based on their facial expressions and arms waving at each other, but I could only hear a word or two of what was exchanged. I turned away from them, not wanting to get dragged into the fight. Dad joined us at the elevator shortly after.
The five of us filled the elevator. Everyone making sure they weren’t touching the person next to them. We definitely weren’t friends here. Frank inserted a key card and then pressed a button for the subbasements. My dad watched Frank’s every move. I rubbed the tired from my eyes. My dad wrapped his arm around me, tucking his head down by mine.
“Your sister is taking your mom and Grams back to Indiana,” Dad whispered in my ear explaining the argument I witnessed. I nodded my head in acknowledgement.
“You know you won the battle but not the war, right?” I asked, referring to Passion and Las Vegas.
“We’ll see,” Dad said.
I grunted in reply. I didn’t think Dad knew what he was in for in regards to Passion and Frank’s affair. I didn’t think she’d give him up that easily.
The elevator dinged and the door opened to a sublevel. Frank took the lead down a narrow hallway as we followed. Employees greeted Frank as we passed but didn’t comment on his bloody nose or disheveled clothing, although shock showed on most of their faces.
Frank stopped and knocked on a door marked security. The door was opened by a man in uniform. Frank walked past him and led us into a staffed room but didn’t speak to anyone. Employees glanced up from their cubicles but quickly averted their eyes when we passed. Frank knocked again on an interior door. The door opened from the inside. Hundreds of monitors showed every nook and cranny of the hotel. I gasped in surprise. I knew the casinos used cameras and high levels of security, but it was another thing to see it in person.
“Good evening, Edwards,” Frank greeted the man who had opened the door. He shook his hand.
“What can I do for you, sir?” Edwards’s eyes darted between the people in our group. Taking in the blood, he leaned toward Frank and whispered quietly to him.
“Everything’s fine, Edwards. We just need your help with something.” Frank’s face changed, relaxing into his friendly grin, putting the security guard at ease. I’d seen the exact grin in every photo of Frank online. I rolled my eyes at his transformation. If only his staff knew of the man behind the mask.
Frank gave Edwards a slap on the shoulder. “We could use your help. Let’s take this into your office.” Frank held his arm out, guiding the way. Liam and I passed with our necks craned, trying to take in the room. My foot caught on a chair leg sending me sprawling. The security guard sitting in the chair spun around to help me up. His security key card snagged on the desk, pulling the clip off his pants. I couldn’t believe my luck. I wanted that card. I needed that card. Luckily for me, my morals were at an all-time low so stealing it wasn’t beneath me.
I smiled up at him. He smiled back. As he was looking at me, I moved my hand over the white card. I quickly palmed it and slipped it in the pocket of my jeans as I pretended to dust myself off.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling again when he helped me to my feet. The young man blushed at my attention. My dad grabbed my arm and led me away.
“I saw that,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth.
“Did anyone else?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“No. I blocked their view.”
“Good.”
We followed everyone into the office. A smaller bank of TV monitors flanked one wall. The opposite wall housed a desk with multiple computer terminals. Directly across from us was another door. Probably a private entrance for Edwards, I guessed.
Edwards moved behind the desk. He looked like a kid. I squinted my eyes as I took in his appearance. He was short and slight in build with large black glasses on his face. He wore suit pants that hung on his narrow hips. The suit jacket hung on the back of his chair and his shirtsleeves were rolled up. The shirt was covered in wrinkles and remnants of a previous meal dotted his tie. The kid looked like he was playing dress-up in his dad’s clothes. The only thing missing was a pocket protector for his pens. I glanced around for another security expert but didn’t see one.
“Edwards, I need you to pull up the footage from the catwalks above the main theater,” Frank said.
“Starting time, sir?” Edwards asked as he tapped on a keyboard. He sat in the desk chair looking at the computer screen in front of him.
“Seven. Right when the show started,” Frank said.
Liam, Dad and I stood to the side facing the monitors. The largest one in the center switched to the footage Frank asked for. Backstage members of the production moved about the screen, but when the lights dimmed, they all disappeared down different stairwells.
I leaned in toward Liam and whispered, “Look for anything out of place.”
Liam’s glance at me spoke volumes. Duh came through loud and clear. “Any suggestions? I don’t know what’s in place,” Liam said.
“Me either. Use your cop eyes.” Liam looked at me in confusion. I shrugged.
Movement on the empty catwalk caught my eyes. Guy’s silhouette moved down the main walkway. He crouched down. His black clothing and the dim lighting made him hard to see. Not impossible, but he didn’t stand out either. Guy produced a knife and began to cut at one of silks the dancers used. My heart raced thinking about how Passion was on the other end, even though I knew she hadn’t been hurt.
Guy paused in his actions before speeding back up. I assumed he’d noticed me noticing him. His arm moved back and forth as the knife cut into the material. A moment later, his attention shifted to his right as I barreled onto the screen. The video didn’t have any sound so our words couldn’t be heard.
I held my breath as I watched the scene unfold. I contained a sob as Gray was stabbed and led off screen.
“Can you follow their movements?” I asked. Edwards looked to Frank for approval. He nodded his head yes.
The video switched to a hallway. Guy and Gray moved down it and then seemed to disappear. I shot onto the screen, looking up and down the area. My costume tail snagged on the wall. I ripped it off and moved off screen. We all knew what happened next. I rubbed my palm with my thumb as I remembered the burn from smacking Michael across the face.
“
Where did they go?” Liam asked. He stepped closer to the monitor. “It looks like they just disappeared?”
“Not quite,” Edwards said. “There’s a panel in the wall that leads to another hallway. It’s left over from when Vegas wasn’t always on the up and up.”
“And Guy would’ve known about it since he grew up in this hotel.” I filled in the blank for Liam’s benefit. “Are there more cameras in that hallway?”
“Give me a minute,” Edwards said. His fingers flew across the computer keyboard. “I’m running facial recognition on both of them. Any videos with them will pop up.”
I stepped closer to Liam and the TVs. It was my only link to Gray for the moment. Elevator footage showed Guy and Gray. Gray had his suit coat pulled tightly across him hiding his blood-stained shirt and allowing him to put pressure on the wound. He seemed pale to me but was moving easily enough when they exited the elevator.
“What floor are they on?” Frank asked.
“The thirty-fifth.”
I gasped. Our suite was on that floor. The view switched again. Guy and Gray walked down the hallway and entered our room. We watched the empty hallway, for what seemed an eternity, for them to reemerge. They did less than a minute later. Gray now carried a small backpack over his shoulder. They calmly walked down the hallway, back to the elevator. The view switched again. They now walked toward the camera.
In the elevator, neither man spoke. I stared at Gray, willing him to look at me. I knew he wouldn’t actually see me, but I just wanted to see his eyes. As if he could hear me, Gray looked up and stared directly into the camera, and my heart stopped. He held the gaze for mere seconds before looking down at his hand. His body blocked his right hand from Guy seeing it. His palm was up, his passport rested on it face up. The bold emblem of the United States against the gray leather was easy to see. Gray’s eyes moved back to the camera, then he slipped his passport into his pocket.
Chapter Five
Gray Thomas
Flight Leaving Las Vegas
Gray feigned sleep with his seat reclined, watching Guy through slitted eyes. Guy read a magazine, comfortable in the fact that Gray wasn’t an escape threat while they were in the air. The private jet gave Gray ample leg room. A luxury Gray hadn’t indulged in for quite some time. Usually he and Regan were cramped into coach seats while they traveled. Although, now that Regan knew about his trust fund, maybe he could talk her into a few upgrades.
Thoughts of Regan made his chest hurt. Gray momentarily forgot about the pain in his side. The stab wound was minor, barely a flesh wound, really, but it still ached. Guy had cleaned it and bandaged it the moment they entered the airplane. Gray now wore a T-shirt and jeans, the bloody clothes having been disposed of.
After catching a peek at the flight plan, Gray had left a clear message for Regan. He only hoped she would pick up on it. Knowing her, she had likely retreated into herself before taking action. But, hopefully, not for long.
Gray sent up a silent prayer that she was smart enough to follow the clues and not dumb enough to come alone. His father, Michael, would insist on accompanying her, but Gray hoped Regan would leave him behind. Guy wanted Michael to hurt. If Regan showed up with him in tow, she could get hurt in the crossfire. Gray couldn’t live with that.
Liam and Jax had been attending the show. Liam would make a good choice to bring with her. He was a police officer and trained to handle himself. Jax would slow him down, but Regan would be able to keep up. She’d spent years backpacking around the world with Gray. Regan would feel right at home navigating the local towns and following the clues Gray would leave for her.
It was too much to hope that Regan would stay back and let professionals do the dirty work. Gray knew her too well. Right now, she was probably bossing around his father and Uncle Frank and causing a huge stink. Gray smiled at the thought.
“Would you care for a beverage?” The flight attendant spoke softly in case Gray really was asleep. He opened his eyes and asked for water and a snack. The attendant smiled at him before walking back to the galley.
Gray needed to eat and drink whatever he could now. And rest. Once the plane landed, he had every intention of escaping. He had to keep Regan from walking—no, running—into a dangerous situation. One, or both of them may end up hurt. He wouldn’t allow that. When he escaped, he’d be able to watch for her arrival. Hopefully, she brought enough money or a credit card to get them back home again.
Anger swelled inside him towards his father. What was the man thinking hiding Guy for all these years? Gray knew, though. Michael had wanted control. He’d wanted to be the big dog. Hiding Guy was the ace up his sleeve.
The attendant returned with a bottle of water and a turkey sandwich. Gray removed the small table from the armrest, flipping it up and over into position. He raised his seat from the recline, thanked the woman, and prepared to eat.
“So, where did dear old Dad set you up all this time?” Gray asked casually between bites. Guy turned toward Gray. Dead eyes stared back at him before returning to his reading material. “Not a talker, are you? Okay.” Gray took a bite of his sandwich and ignored Guy.
“Your father hasn’t filled you in on the family secrets? Never a good idea to keep secrets from those who will one day reign.” Guy flipped the page on his magazine. Guy’s voice had a hint of an accent. Gray guessed he spent little time speaking English these days. Spanish was probably his daily language based on their destination.
“I’m not in the family.” Gray emphasized the word.
“It’s not a life you can just walk away from. I should know,” Guy said pointing at the scar on his head. “I tried to leave once and my best friend cracked me with a hammer.”
“Uncle Frank?” Shock showed on Gray’s face. He’d heard Guy and Frank talking about it at the theater but still found it hard to believe. “He really did leave you for dead?”
“Looks like it. All I wanted was out with my Gracie and our baby,” Guy said, flipping another page on his magazine. “Instead, I’m in even further.”
Gray didn’t know what Guy was referring to so he didn’t say anything. A part of him felt for Guy. How would I handle having Regan ripped away from me? Not well, he decided.
“Imagine my surprise when you and your fiancée walked into my place? I believe she was just your girlfriend then.” Guy still didn’t look at Gray, but Gray openly stared at him, not knowing what Guy was talking about.
“Your place?”
“I own a small hostel in the jungles of Honduras. On a regular day, nothing special about it, you walked in my door.” Guy chuckled. “Scared me, honestly. You bear a striking resemblance to your father. My heart almost stopped. I thought he’d finally found me. I thought my existence was coming to an end. And before Michael could even fulfill his promise to me.”
Gray put his sandwich down. He stared at Guy, trying to remember him, but couldn’t place him. Gray had no memory of ever meeting this man before. Regan and Gray had stayed in hundreds of hostels over the years. Gray couldn’t keep them all straight, let alone the employees.
“You don’t remember?” Guy smiled, warmth flooding his eyes. His face lit up. A twinge of recognition flashed in Gray’s eyes but he still couldn’t place him. “Imagine me with a full head of hair, amigo.”
Enlightenment dawned in Gray’s eyes. “Garcia?”
“Si. You remember? I was banking on the fact that a different look and surroundings would confuse you. It worked to my benefit that so many people don’t remember a person when they are seen out of context.”
Just as quickly, Garcia was gone. Dead, dark eyes stared back at Gray. Gone was their friend from the hostel. In his place, the man out for revenge.
“That’s quite a talent.”
“I learned it from your father. He blends well in society, no?” Guy asked.
Gray let the comment slide. The only side of his father that he’d ever known was the Michael who blended into society. The caring, loving, doting father. Until
recently, Gray hadn’t realized just how ruthless his father was.
“Why would my father put you in a hostel? That’s not his style,” Gray asked.
“He didn’t. He dropped me in Colombia with some of his associates. I played nice for about year, plotting my revenge, before I took off.”
“He hasn’t known where you were this whole time?” Gray asked. His sandwich completely forgotten now.
“Nope.” Guy laughed. “I made him promise that one day I would get to return and seek revenge on Frank. He’s had the last twenty-nine years to wonder when it would be and if it would affect him, too.” Guy put down the magazine. The charade was over. He’d been planning his revenge alone for decades and now he finally had someone to share it with.
“So, you bought a hostel?”
“Yes. But first, I made friends. Friends with money and airplanes.” Guy motioned with his arm. “I made contacts. You don’t grow up in the mafia without learning a few things.”
Gray’s eyes moved to the flight attendant. She showed no reaction to the mention of the mafia. She sat facing us, but far enough away to give the illusion of privacy. A smile was plastered on her perfect face.
“Don’t worry about her. She works for far scarier people than us.” Guy waved his hand toward her.
“The cartel?” Gray asked, but he didn’t really want to know. He gulped at the thought of Regan running headlong into a drug cartel. With her mouth and attitude, she’d be dead in minutes. Gray decided to double his efforts of escape when they landed. “You run drugs for them.”
“Well done. You have the mind for the game. Americans love their drugs, so we have to get them north somehow. What better way than I? I have hundreds of backpackers and travelers coming through my hostel each week. Extra traffic isn’t noticed.”
“But you wanted out. You tried to leave. Yet, you still ended up in the lifestyle?”
