Eryn knew that was true. She’d never been directly involved in a kidnapping before, but her company had. Usually those crimes ended tragically.
“You’re one man.”
He looked at her but smiled grimly. “Yeah, but I can do this. I’ve done it before.”
Looking at him, staring into those hard, slate-gray eyes, Eryn believed him—but only for a moment. The bottom line was that Daniel Steadman had been taken by professionals. Callan had acknowledged that himself. But she knew he was going to try to get Daniel back.
She also knew that he wasn’t going to ask her for help. Once he got his hands on the images, he’d take up the hunt by himself. Getting around Las Vegas was hard. “When was the last time you were in Vegas?”
He smiled a little. “First time.”
And navigating the city if he hadn’t been here before was going to be next to impossible. The sirens closed in as Eryn stared at him and considered what he was proposing to do. “You can’t do this by yourself. Not in a city you don’t know.”
“My kid sister loves this guy. I’m not going to sit this one out while he gets flushed down the toilet because of bureaucracy.” Callan took a quick breath. “The men who took him knew who I was. Inside that room, they had a guy on me. They figured if there was any trouble coming, I was the guy going to give it.”
Thinking of the way Callan had rushed at the van despite the gunners, Eryn silently agreed. He was trouble.
“Those guys had an inside person.” Callan went on in a calm voice. “If it wasn’t you—”
“It wasn’t.” Eryn glared at him.
Callan ignored her response. “—then it’s someone else. If it’s someone else, then that person is going to be in the middle of the police and FBI investigation. They’re going to know every move the police and the FBI make. That’ll get Daniel killed. This is about money. They’re going to have to move quickly.”
“You don’t know this is about money.”
He flicked a narrow-eyed glance at her. “Daniel’s heir to a pharmaceutical empire. This is about money.”
“Whoever took him could have taken him for leverage.”
That caught his attention. “What do you mean?”
“Corporate buyout. Corporate merger. Research and development. A play for contracts. Revenge. You can’t narrow your focus like that.” Eryn couldn’t believe so many possibilities presented themselves to her so quickly.
Callan’s suspicion returned. “How do you know all this?”
“This is Vegas. People who come here are high rollers. Corporate executives who like to play hard but never stray far from the business field. You get to that level, it’s all about action. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the boardroom, on Wall Street or on the tables. They have to get their juice.”
“Doesn’t matter what this is about. I’m going to get Daniel back. Whoever sold him out is going to be in a position to look over the shoulders of the law enforcement people.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Although she wanted to believe that someone inside the group of partygoers colluding with the kidnappers was simply conspiracy paranoia, Eryn knew it was likely true. She’d seen the man assigned to Callan. He’d gone straight to Callan and hadn’t hesitated to shove his pistol into the back of Callan’s neck.
“Getting Daniel back safely is going to take someone from outside law enforcement. Someone moving quickly.” Callan paused, then his voice turned cold. “And someone who won’t hold back when the time comes.”
“What do you mean?”
Before Callan could respond, if he was going to, the fire escape door exploded open and a group of hotel security guards pushed into the parking garage brandishing weapons. They fanned out immediately, one stopping by the body on the ground and took up positions as the first LVPD police car screeched to a stop in front of them. The red and blue lights whirled over the immediate scene, painting it in garish shadows.
Callan wrapped his jacket around Eryn’s shoulders and herded her toward the stairwell at the other end of the parking garage. “I need those pictures. After that, you’re out of this. I promise. You can do whatever you want. But I have to help Jenny. I promised.”
The forceful emotion in his words carried pain and concern. Eryn was surprised to hear it, but in the end that was what decided her. She nodded and went with him, skirting parked cars and staying in the darkness.
Callan took the lead up the stairwell and shielded the woman with his body. He pushed hard, and this time he realized she was in heels. Her ability to keep up surprised him. Three hotel security guards came down and stopped them on the stairs.
One of the security men pushed a hand against Callan’s broad chest. Callan barely managed to quell the reflex to break the man’s fingers and chop him in the throat. “Who are you?”
Before Callan could respond, the woman peered around his shoulder. “It’s crazy out there. Guys with guns. Looked like some kind of drive-by. I think they’re still out there. It’s a good thing you guys got here. You should be able to catch them.”
The cacophony of car alarms echoed into the stairwell as the door below opened again.
The security guard shifted his attention to the woman. “Did you see who they were?”
“No. We were just getting into our car when it started. I told George we were safer inside the hotel.”
“You’re probably right. I need your names.”
“Darbinson. Room twenty-two fourteen. George and Kelli. We’re still checked in. We were going out for dinner until all that happened.”
The security guard nodded. “You folks get to your room. Someone will probably be along to talk to you.”
“Okay, thanks. You guys be careful.” Eryn flashed them a smile.
Callan was surprised by how quickly the woman had defused the situation by shifting the security guards from interrogators to protectors and potential heroes. But the ease that she accomplished that also strengthened his ebbing suspicions. She was too quick, too ready with a lie. A normal person off the street didn’t lie like that.
But the security guards went on their way.
She looked up at him, obviously expecting some acknowledgement of her feat.
“Take off your shoes.”
An angry frown tightened her blue-green eyes. “What?”
“Your shoes. Take them off. It’s a wonder you haven’t broken your neck.”
“I don’t need to—”
Kneeling quickly, Callan grabbed one of her toned calves and lifted her foot from the ground. She stumbled and almost lost her balance. He was too aware of the warm flesh in his hand and his chest suddenly felt too tight. The contact was electric and he wanted to skate his fingers along her calf some more. Instead, he cupped her raised foot with his other hand and stripped the shoe. “Don’t—”
Shifting legs, trying to keep the feel of her from his mind, Callan pulled off the other shoe, leaving it on the ground by the other. He stood and faced her glare. “Things are going to happen fast now. If I have to run, I want you able to keep up with me.”
“I can keep up with you. I could have done it in heels, too.” Her jaw jutted angrily.
Seeing the competitive, daring gleam in her eyes almost made Callan laugh. Under other circumstances he would have. Instead, he gripped her by the arm and pulled her toward the next flight of stairs.
She squirmed in his grip, twisted her wrist toward his thumb the way most martial arts taught someone to counter a hold, and broke free. For a moment Callan thought she was going to try to run. To his surprise, she reached down and hooked her fingers through the straps of the heels.
She held them up to display. “Manolo Blahniks. You don’t leave Manolo Blahniks behind. Now let’s go.” She dashed past him, easily taking the steps three at a time.
She was fast. Callan realized that by the time he hit the top of the stairs. In the tight confines of the stairwell, she was pulling ahead of him becaus
e his size and weight worked against him. Muscle became a burden in the tight turns. In a straightaway run he felt he could have beaten her. Or at least kept up. He was also aware of her only inches in front of his face. The glimpses of red silk beneath his jacket threatened to drive him crazy.
Focus, Callan. He took in a deep breath and pushed it out, turning his thoughts to Daniel Steadman and Jenny. Callan knew he would have to talk to his sister and he was dreading that conversation.
He reached the fourth-floor landing three steps behind her. She waited for him at the door.
“Catch your breath. They probably have hotel security in the room now. We don’t want to attract any more attention than we have to.”
Callan wanted to argue with her and tell her that his breathing was just fine. Instead, he focused on her words. “That costume is going to draw a lot of attention.”
“This is Vegas. A lot happens in Vegas. You can look and dress any way you want to. Just don’t act suspicious.” She frowned at him. “Why did you want to come back here?”
“I’ve got to get my things from my room.”
“I thought you were in a hurry.”
“If I’m going to look for these guys, I’m going to need money. I also need to get out of these clothes, change my appearance. That’s all in my room. I’m at the end of the hall.”
She nodded and looked at him. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Me first. In case there’s trouble.” Callan stepped in front of her, opened the door, and passed into the hallway.
Pulse pounding, Eryn trailed a step behind and to Callan’s right. She took advantage of his size to hide from the other people filling the hallway. Even with the coat, the devil costume marked her immediately if anyone was looking for her. She didn’t want people remembering her or, worse, pointing her out to investigators and security staff.
The party had boiled out into the hallway. Dozens of half-drunken young men talked and gestured, replaying everything that had just happened. Their voices were loud and histrionic. Plainclothes hotel security, marked by the walkie-talkies they carried, moved among the group. The security staff took down names and secured the scene.
Callan cut through them. He was big and broad, but he moved like a tiger. She’d been hard-pressed to gain any distance on him in the stairwell. Given his size and intensity, she thought he’d stand out immediately. But no one noticed him for more than a second, all of them consumed with their stories and the danger that had just passed. As she watched, she realized that Callan never made more than fleeting eye contact, kept a smile on his face and never broke stride, moving quickly without giving the appearance of doing so.
He stopped at the doorway to the room where Eryn had dressed. He tried the door and found it locked. He frowned and turned to Eryn.
Stepping past him, Eryn knocked on the door. Before she finished, the phone in her hand buzzed for attention. Out of habit, she glanced at the screen.
The image of a beautiful woman filled the screen. She had a heart-shaped face, lavender eyes and a small mouth. Cinnamon tresses fell over her bare shoulders. She held a bright red rose in one hand that almost touched the cleft in her chin. The image was glamour shot, an expensive makeover judging from the cosmetics, color and smoky background. A name flashed underneath: Sierra.
Eryn figured Toby was the kind to collect the phone numbers of a lot of women with one name.
Callan peered at the screen. “That’s Toby’s sister.”
“Oh.” Eryn felt guilty for her earlier thought when she realized Toby’s sister was probably worried and calling to check on her brother. She accepted the call. The least she could do after purloining the phone was let Toby’s sister know he was okay. “Hello.”
“Who is this?” The feminine voice was edgy and demanding, used to wielding authority.
“Eryn.”
“I know three Erins. Which are you?”
“I’m one that you don’t know.”
“What are you doing with Toby’s phone?”
“I borrowed it.”
“I heard what happened at the party and I wanted to make certain Toby was all right.”
“He’s fine.” Eryn glanced back down the hall where Toby talked loudly to a security guard. “He’s kind of busy at the minute talking to the hotel security staff.”
“Have him call me. Soon.”
The hotel door opened and revealed one of the guests. His eyes widened as Callan planted a big hand against the door and forced it farther open.
“I’ll have Toby get in touch with you as soon as he’s free.” But Eryn was speaking into a dead connection. The woman had hung up. Turning her thoughts back to the moment, Eryn followed Callan into the room.
Chapter 4
“Hey.” The guy backpedaled into the room just ahead of Callan. “Callan Storm, right? Jenny’s brother?”
“Yeah.” Callan surveyed the room and crossed to the bed where Eryn’s things lay.
Eryn walked to the bed, opened her overnight bag, got her purse out and checked her cell. The images she’d sent from Toby’s phone had come through perfectly.
“Has hotel security been in here?” Callan focused on the guy in the room.
“No.” Guilt stained the man’s features.
“What are you doing here?”
Eryn smiled at that. Evidently suspicion was hardwired into Callan’s psyche, but the guy was tripping her radar as well.
The man looked guilty. “Had to get rid of something.” He shrugged nervously. “Wasn’t anything big, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Didn’t want to get busted by the cops.”
Eryn shook her head. Apparently not all of Daniel Steadman’s acquaintances were squeaky clean. That knowledge made her wonder about Daniel Steadman and Callan’s sister. She had to wonder just how wild they were and if an alternative lifestyle directly impacted what had happened tonight.
Silently, she chastised herself. She had no right to judge, and the guys had shot up the parking garage and killed an innocent bystander without flinching. Not all of her acquaintances were squeaky clean, either. And her past as an exotic dancer, no matter how short, wouldn’t have cut it with her hometown in Fallon even as close as it was to Las Vegas. Her father was a carpenter and her mother was a schoolteacher. She hadn’t hidden her job from them and it had caused some stress. But she was their only child and forgiveness always came.
No, the trouble Daniel Steadman was currently in had to be way past anything he’d expected.
She went through her clothing, thankful the outfit she came in was practical enough. Coffee-bean-colored boot-cut stretch pants she could move in, a chestnut-colored three-quarter sleeve draped surplice shirt and brown Rockport Addison short boots she’d intended to wear home after the job. The clothes would blend with the Strip night crowd and the boots were sturdy enough to hold up under duress.
Callan switched his gaze to her. “I need those pictures.”
“I’m going with you.” Eryn didn’t relish spending the evening getting grilled by police officers. With as many people as there were involved with the kidnapping, investigators would waste hours just processing the attendees. Callan was right about that.
And family was important. Even though Callan’s sister wasn’t in direct danger, Jenny Storm was going to be hurt if something happened to her fiancé. Eryn didn’t want that to happen for any of them. One of the main reasons she’d gotten involved in security work was to protect people. She still had nightmares about Megan’s death. Someone should have helped her, but no one had.
Besides, whatever information they got from the images of the van might play out in minutes. Furthermore, if she could get away clean, without anyone from CS Sec finding out about her moonlighting for Renee, Eryn preferred that. Toby had never gotten her real name, and Renee took jobs through a booking service that protected the names of the performers.
The investigators might not even try to find out who the woman in the cake had been—unless they jumped onto the sam
e wrong assumption Callan had. Eryn took a deep breath and told herself that the kidnapping would be resolved by then. The police—the FBI—would stop looking. All she had to do was get out of the building and she’d be clear.
Callan scowled. “You’re not going with me.”
“Fine. You’re going with me.” Before he could stop her, Eryn stepped into the bathroom, locked the door and waited to see if Callan would tear the door off the hinges. She heard him pace outside for a moment, maybe growl a little, but he stayed on the other side of the door.
Eryn undressed and dressed quickly. She dropped the skimpy attire into her purse, washed the exotic makeup from her face, and expertly glossed her lips and worked magic with a concealer. She moussed her collar-length hair and let it fall straight and professional, getting rid of the body she’d worked hard to infuse it with earlier. When she checked her reflection in the mirror, she was happy to see that a much different person looked back at her. She felt certain she could fade into the background of the hotel and leave without incident.
But there was one other stop she needed to make if she intended to follow through on her impromptu investigation. Callan wouldn’t like it. She didn’t, either, because it would leave her more exposed than ever.
When she opened the door, Callan spun on her. His irritation and stern features froze for just a moment, then he looked surprised.
The other man in the room wasn’t so silent. “Wow. You look different.”
Eryn didn’t respond. She deleted the images she’d taken from the memory card, wiped the phone clean of her fingerprints and Callan’s with a tissue, then handed Toby’s cell to man. “Get this to Toby. Tell him his sister called and she’s worried.”
Best Man for the Job Page 4
