Wild Card (Leaving Las Vegas)

by Aleah Barley

  The way he treated her like a valued partner.

  At least, he had treated her like a partner…before they’d walked into her house and he’d told her they couldn’t see each other any longer.

  White-hot anger blazed in Gina’s veins. She’d been rejected before, but it had never felt like this.

  Like a punch straight to the gut.

  Her insides twisted.

  Her hands moved up, skimming Finn’s firm body, and she pushed him away. “Get out,” she said, her heart banging against her chest. “Don’t call me. Don’t be in touch. We’re not friends. Understand? I don’t want to hear from you.”

  “Gina—” Finn was the one who’d rejected her, but that didn’t stop a flash of sorrow from crossing his handsome face. His blue eyes seemed sunken, his skin sallow. His oh-so-kissable lips tugged down at the ends.

  “You can call me anytime,” he said. “If you need me I’ll be here. I promise.”

  “I don’t need your promises.”

  And then the man she was pretty sure she loved turned and walked away. His head bowed slightly as he headed down the stairs.

  Gina didn’t allow herself to breathe until she heard the unmistakable click of the tract house’s front door swinging shut. Then she let out a barely contained sob. Her body collapsed, and she slid down to the floor.

  She’d never felt so impossibly alone in her entire life.

  A few minutes later Gina forced her way up onto wobbly feet. Her borrowed T-shirt hit the floor, followed quickly by her convenience store flip-flops and a pair of Sorcha’s pink gym shorts.

  It might feel like her whole world had collapsed, but it was just a breakup.

  Time to put on her favorite little red dress, slip on a pair of high heels, and dance until she dropped.

  It was Thursday night. That meant half-priced drinks at her favorite nightclub and—if she hurried—a bucket of buffalo wings for five dollars.

  For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to walk into the club with Finn by her side. Would he be horrified or delighted? She bit back a laugh as she pictured his face, his lips pressed in a thin line, his eyes shining.

  It wasn’t going to happen, she reminded herself.

  Finn was gone, and she needed to remember who she was.

  She needed to dance.

  …

  Damn it. Finn felt like punching something. His heart was beating double time, and his hands yanked at the steering wheel of his truck as he accelerated away from the curb.

  It felt like he’d just torn open his chest and ripped out his insides, but he’d had to tell Gina the truth. They couldn’t be together now that they were back in Las Vegas. He was a cop, and she was a witness.

  Everything else about her—the way she tasted like spun sugar and danced in the truck’s passenger seat when he turned on the radio—was meaningless. He couldn’t have her.

  No matter how much it hurt.

  Finn rolled down the truck’s window, letting in a gust of fresh air, and drove the rest of the way to the police station in silence.

  At headquarters, he didn’t bother turning the evidence in at the lockup.

  It had been stolen from there once already. He couldn’t let that happen again.

  Instead, he carried the valuable watch straight into Howard’s office and watched the captain lock it away in his safe. “You’ve done good work on this case,” Howard said. The captain had been waiting for Finn to get in and debrief. He cracked his knuckles, looking almost cheerful for once.

  “Does that mean my vacation is over?”

  The older man’s brow furrowed. “You might want to sit down.”

  “I’ve been sitting in the truck for days.”

  “Right.” Howard leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Your medical leave is finished. Technically, I canceled it a couple of days ago. I didn’t want the union getting on my ass if you got shot while you were supposed to be taking things easy.”

  “Good to hear. You had me worried for a moment.”

  “Yeah.” The old man shrugged. “Well, I want you to check in with a doctor anyway before I give you any shifts.” He steepled his fingers thoughtfully. “You went above and beyond the call of duty on this one. Was it because of the woman? Our little Queen of Hearts?”

  Finn couldn’t bring himself to lie. Duty had required him to stop and save Gina on the road. A desire to uncover the truth—about Mendoza and the LVMPD—had driven him to uncover the evidence.

  But Gina… He’d do anything for Gina…

  Anything except tell her how much she meant to him.

  Finn cleared his throat. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  “Right. Women don’t like you—only babies. You’re a simple man. You can’t be bought, you can’t be tempted, all you care about is truth, justice, and the American way.”

  “Something like that.” Suddenly the captain’s words didn’t sound like a compliment. Finn shoved his hands in his pockets. “If you don’t mind, I should go get started on the paperwork.”

  “Of course.” Howard’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you drop Malloy off at her house? Make sure she’s tucked in, all safe and sound?”

  “Yes,” Finn said.

  “Good. Go do your paperwork, and when you’re done, go home. Enjoy yourself for once. This work can do things to a man. It can draw you out and drive you crazy if you don’t have someone to share it with. Given your way with the ladies, I’d recommend a hooker, but you’re not that kind of man.”

  Finn did as he was ordered.

  Just like always.

  What had Gina said? “You don’t have faith, but you still follow the rules. You keep your nose clean. You always turn in your paperwork on time. You never step out of line. You always do as you’re told.”

  The words echoed in his mind as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the big machine in the break room. Someone had made a swipe at the coffeemaker with a paper towel, removing some of the tarnish, but they hadn’t touched the inside. The stuff was still foul, but this time, it didn’t make Finn smile.

  All his life, he’d worked hard and played by the rules. Right up until he hadn’t, putting a bully where he belonged—in the hospital. So, why couldn’t he get a halfway decent cup of coffee?

  Why couldn’t he lie in bed beside Gina on a lazy Sunday morning?

  His hands crushed into fists. Daydreaming about Gina might be entertaining—she’d opened an entire realm of fantasy material that he’d never considered before—but it wasn’t helping him get his paperwork done.

  He forced himself to take another sip of coffee.

  The situation stank.

  He sat down and turned on the computer. The computer-generated type swam in front of his eyes. He blinked twice and went back to work. His fingers slammed angrily against the keyboard.

  Mendoza was a violent, evil man. He deserved to be tossed in jail for life—if not longer—and if Dasher had been part of his cabal of crime, he deserved to be strung up by his toes.

  More importantly, if they had both Mendoza and Dasher on the hook, they might be able to find the dirty police officers inside the LVMPD.

  Finn wanted to be a part of that, to serve the city in the best way he knew how, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Gina.

  Some time later, he realized his hands were shaking. He’d been working for four hours straight, and that was after driving for more hours than he wanted to think about.

  The squad room had emptied out, and the only people he could see were the uniformed officers working the desk. Finn slid down farther in his chair. He should go home—back to his tiny apartment with its beige walls and empty fridge.

  Gina’s home had been bright and cheerful. It was a tract house, just one more identical box in the desert, but he could see the potential in the hardwood floors, the friendly eat-in kitchen, and the large master bedroom with its richly colored decorations.

  The sight of her massive
bed had caused Finn’s brain to stutter and his heart to stammer. He’d almost taken her right there in the upstairs hallway.

  Instead, he’d done the responsible thing and told her why they wouldn’t be sharing dinner.

  He was an idiot.

  Finn didn’t want to go home to his empty bed—or the greasy burger he’d pick up on the way home. He got himself another cup of coffee and took another look at the files he’d sent to himself from Mendoza’s hidden memory card.

  The spreadsheet looked the same—it would need to be turned over to a team of accountants—so Finn went through the videos he hadn’t watched.

  Each one showed Mendoza talking to one of Las Vegas’s leading citizens. There was a casino owner, a state politician, and two members of the Chamber of Commerce. Finn watched carefully, taking notes, but he knew he’d have to watch the videos a second time.

  He clicked over to the next one and—

  This one was different than the others. It was filmed outside, somewhere in the desert. The sky was dark overhead, and the only discernable landmarks were an oddly shaped rock formation and a dark blue police-issue sedan, complete with radio antennae and government plates.

  Finn stood and started walking away from his desk. The unmarked car wouldn’t have been driven by a uniformed officer like Gunnar. It would belong to a detective—at the very least—or someone in authority, someone who might have heard that Finn was back in town and wanted to finish what Dasher had started.

  The woman he loved was in danger. He needed to find her, and this time, he wasn’t going to let her go. Gina had been right. It was time to stop regretting the past and start living for the future.

  The computer speakers crackled, and a man could be heard speaking.

  Finn got up and ran.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The familiar click-clack of Gina’s heels against the pavement didn’t provide their usual familiar comfort after a night in a club where the music was too loud, the drinks were too warm, and the men were too handsy. None of her dance partners had bothered to ask her name or look her in the eyes. There’d been a blond guy near the end, big and rough with nice hands. He’d been exactly her type, but she hadn’t considered going home with him even for a minute.

  He wasn’t Finn.

  The cab she’d snagged at the nightclub had dropped her off halfway down the block. Too far to walk with aching feet. Gina slipped off her shoes and padded along on her neighbor’s grass, the high heels dangling from her fingertips.

  It was a gorgeous night. The stars were shining brilliantly overhead, and all she could think about was a man who didn’t want her.

  The jerk.

  Tossing away any shot at happiness because of something he’d done in his past.

  But she couldn’t force him to be happy.

  No matter how much she might want to.

  Gina took a deep breath.

  Of course, that wasn’t the only thing keeping them apart.

  Finn had said the reason they couldn’t be together was because she was a witness. It made a certain amount of sense, now that she thought about it. She would have to testify in court. It could be awkward if she was sleeping with the lead investigator.

  Her teeth dug into her bottom lip.

  She might have been a little harsh when she’d thrown Finn out of the house.

  Maybe when the case was wrapped up, they could start over again.

  Hell, she could start first thing in the morning. Finn would be at his desk like an obedient soldier. She’d see him when she went in to make her statement.

  She’d apologize.

  They’d go out to lunch.

  And then—her heart pounded in her chest—she’d tell him exactly how she felt.

  I love you. She’d said the words before, but she’d never meant them.

  Not like she did now.

  The sound of a car door closing interrupted Gina’s reverie, making her head snap up. There was a navy sedan sitting in her driveway. It was a plain automobile with too many antennae and tinted windows.

  A man was getting out of the driver’s seat. He was tall and lean with cropped gray hair and a suit that might have fit him a few years ago. When he turned toward her, she could see the years hanging off him.

  “Gina Malloy.” He said her name as if it wasn’t a question. He stepped around the car. “I’m Captain Howard with the LVMPD. I was passing by on my way home and thought I’d stop and see how you were doing.”

  Howard. Gina allowed herself to start breathing again. Finn’s boss had the appearance of steel wool, but he wasn’t going to hurt her.

  Probably.

  “Is Finn coming?” she asked.

  “Finn?” Howard chuckled. “He’s probably still doing paperwork. You know what he’s like.”

  “A stalwart officer of the law.”

  This time his laughter was loud and booming. “Exactly, stalwart and true, like a soldier.”

  Or a knight, but Gina didn’t bother contradicting the older man. If she was going to be Finn’s girlfriend, it wouldn’t hurt to get his boss on her good side. “Want to come in for a cup of tea? Or a stiff drink?”

  “Thanks.” Howard shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket, his long legs eating up the space between them as he walked over to her.

  Gina fumbled with her bag, pulling out her keys and unlocking the front door. She dropped her shoes in the living room and turned on the lights. Her house was quiet and still. Even at night, the air-conditioning was struggling against the heat.

  “This is a nice place,” Howard said.

  “Thanks. I bought it a couple of years ago. The Realtor said it was a good investment, and I was silly enough to believe him. Then the market collapsed, and, well, you know the rest.”

  “It happened to a lot of people around Las Vegas.” The police captain nodded. “My ex-wife lost her house. She took my kids and moved to freaking Utah. Now, I’m the one who has to pay to fly them back here every other week.”

  Gina shrugged. She led him back into her kitchen and filled up the kettle. Turning on the stove, she started to rattle her way through the cabinets looking for clean mugs and a box of tea.

  The tea was in the third place she looked, tucked behind her coffee grinder. She had rose hips and chamomile in bags. The chamomile smelled dusty. The rose hip tea was fine. She put a bag in each cup and turned to smile at her guest.

  The police captain was calm and relaxed. His hands were still in his pockets. “You spent a lot of time with Detective Finn over the last few days. Did you talk at all?”

  “Like you said, we spent a lot of time together.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  Gina frowned. “Are you investigating Finn?”

  “Would I find anything if I did?”

  She laughed. “There’s nothing to find. Finn’s a white knight in a dark world.”

  “And you’re such a beautiful woman, a true damsel in distress. I’m sure he loved swooping in to rescue you.” The captain leaned forward, peering at Gina as if he wasn’t sure he liked what he saw. “Finn’s a good detective, but he’s an odd man. He doesn’t seem to want anything. He doesn’t care about money. Power.” His gaze narrowed. “Or women. It’s hard to know what buttons to push with a man like that; it makes him a wild card. Most of the other guys in the department are numbers. You deal them out, and they do what they’re told, but Finn’s a hard one to predict. All that righteous indignation with a nice violent streak.”

  The kettle whistled sharply behind Gina’s back.

  “I probably shouldn’t join you for tea after all,” Howard said. “It’s late, and I have promises to keep.”

  The police captain turned and walked out of the room, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. The front door creaked as it opened.

  Gina turned to pour the boiling water into her teacup. Rose hip tea might not provide the same kick as a hot cup of coffee, but it was still one of her favorites. She took a breath, tak
ing it in deep. But there was a weird edge that she didn’t recognize at first…menthol?

  “Hello, girlie.” A massive fist landed on her back, sending her slamming down to the ground.

  Her knees screamed, and her head ached. She twisted sharply to get a look at her attackers, Skippy Perez and his little friend. The taste of blood filled her mouth. The two men were dressed in T-shirts and jeans. They looked clean and well rested. They hadn’t been on the road for days—running halfway across the country. No, they’d been in Las Vegas.

  Waiting.

  “Why?” Her voice was little more than a rasp. She coughed and tried again. “Why?” Her gaze lifted toward the third man in the room.

  Captain Howard still didn’t look particularly threatening, but there was no mistaking the determined set of his jaw or the gun in his hand.

  Oh, hell. Gina bit back a whimper. “You—you’re Dasher’s contact in the department.”

  “He’s everyone’s contact in the department,” Skippy snickered. He rubbed his big hands together. “You would have been better off playing with me earlier, girlie. Now, I’m going to have to share.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” his buddy swore, slamming an elbow into Skippy’s side. “You only think with one thing.”

  “It makes him easy to control,” Howard explained. He stepped past Gina to pick up the cup of tea and took a sip. “Skippy likes women. You like money. Dasher and Mendoza think they invented police corruption.” He laughed. “Like there haven’t been dirty cops in this town since it was just a pile of sand and dirt.”

  Gina forced herself upward, first onto her knees, then onto her wobbling feet. If she was going to die, it wasn’t going to be lying helplessly on the ground. “Finn won’t give up. He’s got the evidence—”

  “I’ve got the evidence,” Howard corrected her. “All locked up nice and tidy. Anything Finn saw—anything he thinks he saw—will just be the ravings of an unstable former detective. A joker who washed out of his last job because of his violent tendencies.”

  “Damn Goody Two-Shoes,” the smaller thug muttered, frowning. “Thinks he’s better than everyone else.”