Wild Card (Leaving Las Vegas)

by Aleah Barley

  “You think the killing has something to do with me? I’m a dancer, not a shooter.”

  “Could be… You disappeared around the same time, from a place the dead man was known to frequent. There are no cameras in the backstage area, but the view of you running across the employee parking lot showed your frame of mind pretty clearly. Something scared you. Maybe someone.” He shrugged. “My captain thought it was worth checking out and I…I had the time.”

  Finn wasn’t as squeaky-clean as he looked. He must have pissed someone off royally to get sent into the desert. The white knight had a dark side.

  It made him even more appealing.

  “Now—” The detective cleared his throat. “You said you saw two men fighting. Was one of them a cop?”

  Gina shrugged. The cop had been handsome enough in tan and green. He didn’t have Finn’s shoulders, but… “Do you ever wear a uniform?”

  “To funerals and press conferences.”

  “He was wearing his uniform.”

  “But you didn’t try to help him?”

  “The other guy had a gun.” Her stomach churned as nausea overtook her. She should have done something. “I saw the gun first. I didn’t want to die.”

  Finn’s gaze met hers. His eyes were a dark sparkling blue. His expression was stony. “You did the right thing.” His rich voice echoed her thoughts, driving away some of the doubt. “If you see someone with a gun, you hide. Don’t engage the bad guy. Don’t do anything to draw attention to yourself. Run and hide.”

  She wasn’t twenty anymore. She couldn’t keep running away from her problems. “I could have called the cops. I didn’t even think about it. I should have done something—”

  “You’re alive.” He reached out to touch her, hesitating for one long moment before dropping his hand to rest on her collarbone. His fingertips were callused and rough against her skin. “You’re alive and—darn it—that’s a good thing.”

  Gina snickered. “You always swear like that, Detective?”

  He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. I guess my mother should have beaten me more as a child. My sisters say she keeps offering to finish the job, but…” He shrugged. “She’d have to talk with me first.”

  It was such a small thing, a glimpse into his upbringing, but somehow, it made him seem more real.

  “Excuse me.”

  Thump.

  “Excuse me,” a woman called through the bathroom door. “This is a private restroom. It’s for customers only. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Finn frowned. “We’ll buy something.”

  “Look—” The woman sounded damn young, probably a high school student looking to earn gas money for her first car. “I don’t know what you’re doing.” She giggled. “But you can’t be doing it in there. Not while I’m in charge.”

  The detective shook his head. “I’m a police—”

  “We’ll come out,” Gina interrupted loudly. She’d worked in a diner when she was in high school. Every crisis had seemed like it was life or death.

  Right up until she’d gone to work at the Beavertail and discovered that sometimes those weren’t just words.

  Her voice dropped. “We don’t need to get her in trouble.”

  Finn’s hand fell to his side. He moved back and opened the door.

  On the other side, the teenage waitress simpered prettily. “I’m so sorry, sir—”

  “It’s all right.” The detective tugged a wallet from his back pocket and removed a twenty. He pushed the bill into the girl’s hand. “Don’t mention it…to anyone.”

  “Of course, sir.” The waitress peered past him in Gina’s direction. She giggled.

  Hell. Gina didn’t want to get the girl in trouble, but she wasn’t going to be ashamed. She grabbed her purse, lifted her head, and strutted out of the restaurant as if she’d been a goddamn headliner.

  Finn caught up with her as she stalked through the swinging door. “You’ll have to tell me about the guy with the gun.” His voice was firm. There would be no arguments. “But there’s plenty of time for that. We’ve still got a couple of hours to go today.”

  A couple of hours. Gina frowned. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “We’re that far from Las Vegas?”

  “We’re not going back to Las Vegas.”

  “Excuse me?” Her head jolted upright. Her heels caught on the gravel and she stumbled. “Where are we going?”

  “At the moment? East. Unless you’d rather go to California. You could see your family.”

  “No, thanks.” Warning bells clanged like sirens in her head. “By the time you see those snakes, it’s already too late. They’ll bite your ass—or shoot you.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  She snorted. “You’re not my therapist, and you’re not my priest.”

  “Damn straight.” He shoved his hands in his pocket, like a little boy who’d been caught doing something wrong. “Anyway, I figured the more road we put between us and the guys looking for you, the better. We don’t want them catching up with us.”

  And then all hell broke loose.

  Chapter Five

  One minute Finn was plotting his route east, and the next instant bullets were flying. A projectile whizzed past his head and buried itself solidly in the concrete wall behind him.

  For the second time in a day, he was facing men who wanted to kill him, and it was beginning to piss him off.

  His hand went to his hip, but he’d left the damn gun in the car. The only object he had to defend himself with was his key ring, and he didn’t think they’d get close enough for him to poke them in the eye.

  Crack. Another bullet thundered, and he barreled forward to throw his arms around Gina and send her slamming down into the ground.

  She groaned and wiggled underneath him, but he refused to let her up…even when one of her idiotic shoes connected with his knee.

  “Try not to disable me before I can save our lives.” He rolled to the side, dragging her forcibly underneath the truck. “You don’t happen to have a shotgun in that bag?”

  “No.”

  And she’d thrown her cell phone out the truck window.

  His teeth dug into his bottom lip. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All those years in Chicago spent wishing he could do more for people in need, and now he was going to die on some nameless Colorado street without really making a difference in the world.

  If there was a God, this was his final insult.

  “What do you have in your purse?” he demanded.

  “I—” There was a short pause. “I don’t know.”

  “Excuse me?” What the hell kind of woman didn’t know what she had in her own damn purse? She might not have a shotgun, but judging from the size and everything he’d learned growing up with sisters, he knew it could hold pepper spray, a Taser, and a set of brass knuckles with room left over for the entire makeup department at Sears.

  He grabbed the purse and looked inside. There were the usual bits and bobs that made up a woman’s bag—lipstick, sunglasses, and every receipt she’d ever been given—along with an ACE bandage, some Advil, and a canvas tote bag. “What’s in here?”

  “I don’t know,” Gina argued. “The guy with the gun tried to buy it for fifty thousand dollars, but the cop was holding out for more. That’s what they were doing in the theater. When they looked away, I grabbed it and ran.”

  Un-freaking-believable.

  Finn didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Two more bullets slammed into his truck, making the decision for him. He could get emotional once they’d made it out of this mess alive. Right now, he needed to act.

  He yanked the bag open and looked at the contents.

  No gun.

  Instead, a dozen neatly labeled LVMPD evidence bags peered out at him.

  “They’re going to kill us.”

  “Got any regrets?” Gina asked.

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to die a virgin.”

  Gina laughed. She probably though
t he was joking. “Can’t you do something? Use the gas from the fuel tank. Make an explosive.”

  “Do I look like freaking MacGyver?” If he opened the fuel tank, all he could do would be to cover them in gas and kill them that much faster. “Take off those high heels.” He dumped the tote back into the purse and shoved the precious cargo into Gina’s arms. “We need to run—before they can find a better angle.”

  Saving Gina on the road had been the work of a moment. It had been instinct. He’d done it automatically, without thinking. She was a woman in danger—an assignment.

  Now, she was something more.

  Following Gina into the restaurant had been a mistake. He should have waited for her in the car instead of letting his soft heart get the better of him. He’d wanted to make sure her shoulder was okay; instead he’d learned exactly how her skin felt under his hands.

  His fingers still burned with the heat from her flesh, and he could still smell the gentle lilac perfume that clung to her. Every beat of his heart brought with it the memory of her body pressed back against his, all those warm curves fitted just right against his body.

  If something happened to her…

  “When I move, you need to get out and run. Just like we talked about earlier. Get back in the restaurant. Lock the doors. Call the police—”

  “Like hell.” Gina kicked off her shoes and tucked them into her bag. “You don’t have a gun. You don’t have a chance.” Her fingers threaded through his, holding him tight. “I’m not going without you.”

  The bullets were coming closer.

  If they were going to move, they needed to do it now.

  “Let’s go,” Finn ordered.

  They untangled their legs and shimmied their way out from underneath the truck. The door to the restaurant was still open, but they’d need to cross a ten-foot gap in order to reach it.

  Finn tightened his grip on Gina’s arm and ran straight. If they made it behind the restaurant, maybe they could find a back door.

  Bare feet pounded on the ground beside him. Gina didn’t falter, and she didn’t complain. Her long legs stretched to keep up with him as they rounded the corner and…nothing. No back door. No shelter. Just a long stretch of barren nothingness they couldn’t hope to cover before the bad guys turned the corner.

  “Here, chicky, chicky.” The shooter was close now. “I warned you not to make this hard. I’m going to enjoy taking my time with you.”

  Gina shuddered and tried to pull away.

  Finn didn’t let her go. He pressed their bodies up against the wall, only releasing her hand when he was sure she wouldn’t move.

  “You know our orders, Vin.” The second man’s voice was soft and rasping, the cadence uneven. It rubbed Finn the wrong way. It was also strangely…familiar. “You can play with her for a little bit, but then we’ve got to put her down. Like a dog.”

  A head peered around the corner of the building, and Finn moved. He threw a short punch at the attacker’s jaw, putting all of his power behind the action. He had to be made of solid cement. He stumbled and swayed, but he didn’t go down.

  Still, it was enough.

  Finn reached out and yanked the gun from his hands as he stumbled. The short-barreled revolver couldn’t hit a barn wall from more than twenty feet, but at least now he knew why he and Gina had been so lucky in the parking lot. He raised the gun fast. With less than a foot of space between them, he wouldn’t be making the same mistake. “Tell me about these orders.”

  “The good fucking Samaritan.” The guy who’d attacked Gina earlier spit on the ground. He was a few inches taller than Finn’s six foot two, with muscles bulging on top of his muscles. He was drenched in sweat and stank of menthol cigarettes. “Nice punch. You should have stayed out of our business.”

  “Criminal actions are my business. I’m a cop.” Finn took a step back. “And you’re under arrest for assault, battery, attempted kidnapping, and anything else I can think of on the way back to Las Vegas.”

  “A little out of your jurisdiction, don’t you think?” The second man stepped forward. He had to be the SUV driver. No wonder he’d stayed in the car earlier. He was at least half the size of his companion. Small and wiry, he jittered back and forth when he spoke.

  He was damn familiar.

  Finn’s mind spun. Where had he seen the guy before? His teeth dug into his bottom lip. He was used to having all the facts, but this perp with slits for eyes had him so far off balance, it hurt.

  “Surely there’s some way we can negotiate,” the small man offered, licking his lips. “I know all about the police. Even if you managed to get us back to Las Vegas, we’d be out of lockup in a couple of hours at most. So just give us the broad, and we’ll call it even.”

  “Let me think about it,” Finn said. “No.”

  The big man scuffed his foot against the ground, like a bull preparing to charge. But the smaller man held out a hand to stop his friend. “I’m sure the detective will be reasonable. Eventually.”

  “I can convince him. Fast.”

  “No doubt. But when you work with the police…sometimes it’s better to use a delicate touch.” His voice was soft and even, like an old hand giving his young friend some helpful career advice. He smiled, showing all his teeth. “Isn’t that right, Detective Finn?”

  Hearing his name on the other man’s lips made the hair on the back of Finn’s neck stand on end. He gestured with his pilfered gun. “Back to the car. Put your hands on your head and walk.”

  The big guy wasn’t worried about being shipped back to Las Vegas. If anything he looked eager to get the show—Gina, as well as the bag full of evidence—on the road.

  “Hell.” Finn swore. If he took her back to Las Vegas, she’d be a sitting duck for anyone who wanted to murder her.

  Maybe he could get her into witness protection? His brow furrowed. Unless the evidence in Gina’s bag was part of a federal investigation, that wasn’t likely. Which meant that taking her back to Las Vegas would be a death sentence.

  He marched the men over to the truck and tossed the keys to Gina. “There are handcuffs in the glove compartment. Get them out.”

  The keys rattled in her hands as she pulled the cuffs from the truck and pressed them into Finn’s hand.

  Time to make a decision.

  Tiny had claimed to know all about the police. There was no way to know if that was true, but the slimy bastard had known Finn’s name. Even if he’d just gotten the information from Taub…

  Taub had been dirty. Finn knew that much—he’d known it for years—but what about the rest of the department? The thought scraped across his nerves. He’d worked at the police department for six years now, first as a patrol officer and then as a homicide detective. He’d seen the best the LVMPD had to offer, but what about the worst?

  He’d turned Taub in for bad behavior twice and nothing had happened. Would the same men who’d protected the bent police officer destroy the woman he’d vowed to protect?

  He couldn’t let that happen.

  Gina was his responsibility.

  To keep her safe, he would need to get out of Dodge as quickly as possible. Before the bad guys could call in backup. Even if that meant letting their attackers go. His skin crawled at the thought. His black-and-white life was being invaded by shades of gray, and he didn’t like it. His hands curled into fists. He wanted to hit something—hard.

  A soft breeze wafted through the parking lot, bringing with it the sweet lilac scent of Gina’s perfume. Her proximity made it hard to concentrate. All he could think about was wrapping his arms around her and keeping the world at bay. He took a deep breath, exhaling through his mouth.

  If there was a traitor in the LVMPD, he needed to figure out who it was—and fast. That meant he needed time to examine the contents of the tote bag, learn what cases had been compromised, and uncover who, exactly, had given the thugs their orders.

  If he could solve Taub’s murder at the same time, that would just be icing on the
cake.

  He cuffed the two men’s hands together then slipped the borrowed gun into his waistband and patted them down, taking their wallets and cell phones before searching them a second time for weapons. The big man had a length of rough rope in his back pocket. His friend was carrying knives…lots and lots of knives.

  Finn took the weapons and dropped them into Gina’s waiting hands, and then he hustled the two men over to their car. “Get in the back,” he ordered. He did another quick search, and the keys to the big SUV went in his back pocket.

  “We’re going to leave you here,” he told the men. “They’ve probably called the local cops inside. They’ll be here to pick you up in a couple of minutes. And if you do manage to get loose, don’t follow us. I won’t be so nice a second time. If I see either of you in my rearview mirror, I’m going to have to shoot you.”

  “Fucker.” The bodybuilder threw himself forward, yanking his friend along by the wrist.

  Finn shrugged and slammed the SUV’s door shut.

  Leaving two men handcuffed in the back of a car didn’t sit well with him. Even if they were criminals.

  This wasn’t how things were supposed to work. His heart beat faster at the thought. He always followed the rules. He did what he was told. He tracked down felons and played by the system. He’d sworn to uphold the law.

  But Gina made him want to take every oath he’d ever made and tear them into so much detritus.

  He snorted at the thought. “You need to get in the truck, now.”

  “What—”

  “Don’t ask questions,” he growled. “Just do what I say, before I arrest you for tampering with evidence.”

  Gina’s mouth slammed shut. For a moment, it looked like she was going to argue—not a good way to go—but then she turned and scampered into the car.

  He climbed into the passenger seat and stuck the key in the ignition. “Seat belt.” He waited until they were both safely buckled in before pulling out onto the dusty road.

  “Now,” he said, as calmly as humanly possible, “you’re going to tell me every single thing that happened last night. And if I find you’ve left anything out, you’re going to wish I’d left you with those morons back there. I will make your life a living hell…and I’ll smile while I’m doing with it. Do you understand me?”