Sokolov eyed the guy on the floor, then Stooge Two. “You may be right,” he said sourly. “And it appears I am now in your debt.”
* * *
It felt as though Woods was watching her. Her skin prickled with the knowledge that his grope earlier hadn’t been accidental. But with the op in play, it was imperative that she continue to do her job. She couldn’t go around making accusations about him if she wanted to remain employed.
And she’d never get invited to those after-hours events he’d promised if she didn’t play nice. But just how nice was she prepared to play for the sake of this case? How far would she have hoped someone would have gone to find out information about her own mom?
She dealt the last of the cards from the stack of five packs to the men at her table and continued smiling, counting, and watching. But her hackles were raised when it came to Woods. Was he involved in the women’s disappearances? Was he grooming her for something? Or was he just sleazy around the edges?
Plus, she had a beast of a headache brewing. Something about the slot machines was driving her a little crazy, their constant noise and the flashing lights she could see out of the corner of her eyes getting on her last nerve. Which was unusual for her. It had never happened in Vegas.
“You’re off when the pack is burned,” Ortega said over her shoulder, and she nodded. She couldn’t wait to get home and take a shower. It felt as though Woods had left a stain on her skin, and she couldn’t wait to wash it off.
Cabe had played on the table two down from her, making good money it seemed by the stack of chips he’d had in front of him when the game ended. The FBI might just end up in a cash-positive situation after the op if Cabe won enough big hands. The idea made her smile, and the smile loosened the tension in her jaw.
“House wins,” she said after studying the cards. She leaned forward and collected all the chips. “Thank you so much, gentlemen. It’s been a pleasure dealing for you all tonight.”
“You really gotta go, honey?” one of the men asked. He wore a Marine Corps T-shirt that had seen better days. “I could buy you a drink.”
“That’s very kind of you, but I’m going to have to decline.”
“Oh, come on, sugar. What does a guy have to do to get you to say yes?”
Amy pasted a smile onto her face. “If I said yes, I’d get fired. And you don’t want me to end up out of work, do you?” she said sweetly. It hurt her tongue to have to explain herself to him. A woman should be able to say no and mean it.
The man pouted. “That’s too bad, sugar, but I’ll be over at the bar grabbing a nightcap if you change your mind.” He flipped her a dollar chip. Wow, big spender. He’d been at her table for a good hour. The other men followed suit and she grabbed her tips and her chip tray, allowing for the table to be cleaned while she took them to be counted and converted.
When she got to the women’s locker room, she sighed and leaned her back against the wall. Standing on her feet in tall heels was killing her lower back. She slipped off her shoes and groaned as her arches met with the floor. Her skirt quickly followed, and she pulled on a pair of jeans. They felt like heaven around her waist. Finally, she unbuttoned her vest and shirt and replaced them both with a soft peach T-shirt.
What she needed now was a large glass of Merlot and the book on international art theft she’d begun to read before this assignment took over.
Thankful that the changing room was empty, Amy hurried to stuff her clothes and shoes into her tote bag and slip on a pair of sneakers before anyone could come in and want to make conversation. After grabbing her purse, she headed out of the room and toward the exit. Cabe had left not long ago, and though she’d wished she could have waved or at least met his eyes, she’d ignored his exit, as it was important for their roles that they didn’t act familiar.
The sky was the color of dark blue ink, casting the staff parking lot into darkness as she headed for her car. The front of the building and the side that could be seen from the highway were lit up like the fourth of July, but back here it was like a bad horror movie. Bushes and trees crowded the edge of the property line, and the area didn’t have many cameras, though she’d deliberately parked in full view of one of the few.
“Amy, wait. I was hoping I’d catch you.” The voice made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. She heard the staff door click shut.
Faulkner Woods.
Though her heart raced, she turned calmly to face him. She made sure she was in a solid stance—feet hip-width apart, her right foot a little farther back than her left. She’d taken down bigger and more-prepared men than him in basic training and wouldn’t have any qualms doing it again if he tried anything extremely stupid.
“Was there something you needed, Mr. Woods?”
He stayed a foot away from her and smiled. “I just wanted to wrap up the conversation we started earlier. There’s never a quiet moment in there.” He tilted his head in the direction of the casino.
Woods had lost his tie and had undone the top button of his shirt. If she looked at him objectively for a moment, ignoring his behavior, he was a reasonably attractive man. His voice was smooth. Too smooth. Plenty of girls had probably fallen for it before her. She stepped back out of reach and resumed her stance. Her car was still another ten feet away. “I’d appreciate a conversation about my career, but could it wait until I am back at work?”
“My car’s just over there behind yours. Why don’t we go get a drink together? I’d like to discuss some of the other opportunities that might be available to you.” He raised his eyebrows once, then twice.
Play nice, Amy. Play nice. “I’m sorry, Mr. Woods. But there’s a no-fraternization policy between employees.”
Woods smiled. She shivered inside as she glanced over her shoulder to her car.
“Technically, I don’t work for the company. I own it. But this isn’t anything untoward. Ortega tells me that you are incredible and I want to see what we can do with that.”
She took another step back. Enough small ones and she would be at her car. “Those are semantics that you can get away with but I can’t. The policy most definitely applies to me, and I really need to keep this job, so if you don’t—”
“Amy. I’m serious. This is a professional conversation. I’m trying to show you this is important. We can talk about how things are going. And wouldn’t you like to learn how to become one of the more senior dealers quickly?”
The control she’d felt earlier was beginning to slip. She took another step back, and then another and another, all the while feeling behind her for the door. When she grasped the metal with her fingers, she took a deep breath.
“You know, I’d like to,” she said, “but I have the mother of all headaches. Could we do this another time? Tomorrow, maybe? Or Wednesday?”
Woods placed his hand on the roof of the car, inches from her head, and grinned. The noise echoed in the darkness. She looked around. Nobody else was in the parking lot, even though she’d been told Harley was on surveillance that evening. Clinging to the confidence that she knew enough self-defense and fighting techniques to break free of him, she tried to quell her panic.
If she defended herself, she could get fired, and then she’d never make it into the secret gambling ring. She could lose what was possibly their only lead to the missing women. Could she live with the weight of that on her conscience? But how much of Woods’s attentions could she deal with to ensure no other woman would be taken because Amy wasn’t around as first choice? Women like her mom, who deserved better.
He placed his nose in the crook of her neck. “You are an attractive woman,” he whispered against her skin. She swallowed deeply. “And it would be my pleasure to spend an hour with you, talking this through. Come on,” he said, reaching for her arm. “Why don’t you get in my car and we can talk on the way?”
No amount of training had prepared her for the revulsion and panic that slithered through her as Woods’s lips brushed her ear. Her breath came a lit
tle quicker than normal, adrenaline making her hand shake a little as she carefully placed it against his chest to push him away. It was foolish to expect him to budge, but she wanted to give him every chance to step back before she had to do something that could get her fired. Though she loved her job, there was no way in hell she was performing sexual favors as part of it.
He placed his cool, clammy palm against the back of her hand. She pulled it away and used both arms to try to shove him back. “I want to talk with you, Mr. Woods. I just … Please, not tonight. I don’t feel so good,” she said as he grabbed her hip.
“Everything cool, guys?” The voice came from behind her, but she knew who it was in a heartbeat.
Cabe.
His voice was the greatest sound she’d ever heard and the worst thing that could possibly happen. If she was going to get fired, they couldn’t afford for Cabe to be banned from the casino too.
“This is company business,” Woods said as he looked over her shoulder while increasing the tight grip he still had on her hip. “Why don’t the two of you step inside and ask Anthony to get you a round on me?”
She gasped in pain as Cabe walked into her peripheral vision. With him, bizarrely, was Sokolov.
“Look, I get it. She’s cute ’n’ all. But this is the kinda shit that gets a guy into trouble.” Cabe’s tone was almost jocular, but she could see the muscle twitch in his jaw. She’d thought he’d come out swinging.
She wanted him to look her way so she could let him know she was fine, but he didn’t.
“I’ve got this,” she said, hoping Cabe would take the hint and back away enough that she knew she was covered while she extricated herself. She didn’t want to shut the conversation down permanently … she just wanted to meet with him on her own terms.
“You heard the lady,” Woods said.
Cabe stepped forward, and Amy held her breath, uncertain whether his next move would ruin everything.
“Woods,” Sokolov barked. His tone was agitated.
“Why don’t the three of us go have a drink?” Cabe said to Woods coolly, as if he hadn’t been just about to step up to Woods’s personal space.
Amy shivered but then forced herself to breathe. If she didn’t know Cabe better, she would have sworn he didn’t give a shit about what he’d just witnessed. But there was something about his stance, the way his shoulders were a little too high, his legs in a position that would keep him balanced if he needed to fight, that reminded her that he did. And she knew him. She reminded herself of the detailed conversations they’d had while setting up the op, the way Six and Mac had teased him over his thoughtful process of planning. He wasn’t the guy to lose his head.
“You need to go, drive home,” Cabe said to her calmly, never taking his eyes off Woods.
“Mr. Woods,” she said, her voice more controlled than she felt inside. “I’m grateful you think so highly of my skills, and I’d love to carry on our conversation at a more appropriate moment.”
Woods turned his gaze to hers and nodded stiffly. “Good night, Amy. I’m sorry if my exuberance and interest in your talent was misconstrued in any way.”
What was going to happen to Cabe the moment she pulled out of the parking lot? What if Sokolov and Woods turned on him? He could—
“Good night!” Cabe said, his voice clipped.
If she stuck around much longer, one of them would blow their cover. Resisting the urge to stay, she stepped to the car door and slipped inside. She watched the three men in her rearview mirror as she drove away until they disappeared in the darkness.
CHAPTER TEN
The cold fury racing through him wouldn’t abate. It poured through him like a waterfall, powerful and fast flowing. It gave him strength and clarity, especially as he heard the engine of Amy’s car fade into the distance.
Adrenaline surged through him as he considered what could have happened had serendipity not led him around the back of the casino in time to see Woods leaning on Amy.
He looked at Woods, whom he wanted to pound into the fucking pavement. If she ever found out, his mom would be pissed he hadn’t taught the guy that respect was spelled with two fists and a kick to the balls so hard Woods would be singing soprano.
Thoughts of Amy flashed through his mind. He’d not been able to hear much of what had been said, but he could tell from the body language that something wasn’t right. While Amy’s upper body was all tension, her lower body was in perfect fighting stance.
“Let’s go back inside,” Cabe instructed.
“I don’t know what you think you just interrupted, but it was nothing more than me offering to mentor a talented dealer,” Woods said.
Cabe had to give him credit for a ballsy response. “Listen. I’ve seen her in the casino. Good-looking woman and good at what she does. But she’s your employee, dude.”
“Faulkner, Cabe is right,” Sokolov said through clenched teeth. “You do not need a lawsuit from a young woman saying you sexually harassed her.”
That got Woods’s attention. He straightened as he stared at Amy’s taillights leaving the parking lot. “I didn’t sexually harass her.”
“Let’s go,” Cabe said, pointing in the direction of the staff entrance. His blood was still boiling. Whichever way he looked at it, Woods was a dick. If he was being a handsy boss, then he was a dick. And if he was grooming Amy, he was a dick … even if he was a dick that might give them a lead.
An hour later, with the situation under control and a whiskey he didn’t want lining his stomach, Cabe called a cab. He needed to see Amy. Needed to see how she was. In the heat of watching Woods with his hands on her, his only thought had been how best to extract her, an elemental need to get her to safety. But now, with the streetlights racing by as the cab sped down the highway, he could acknowledge that his actions had also been driven by the most primitive of feelings. Possessiveness. And a need to protect her from another guy who felt she was public property.
His phone rang. “Cabe,” he said, gruffly.
“Boss,” Harley said. “With respect, what the fuck was that?”
Cabe ran his hand over his face. There was no value in pretending he didn’t know what Harley was talking about. “I took care of it. I had it covered.”
“And so did I. It’s what you pay me for, remember? Only I wouldn’t have been the one risking my cover.”
A moment after Cabe had intervened he’d realized that. “Fair comment. Look, can we talk about this tomorrow?”
There was a sigh at the end of the phone. “Sure thing. For what it’s worth, I get why you had the death stare going on. You have more restraint than I do because I might well be up on assault charge if I’d had to go in there.” And with that, Harley hung up.
When Cabe reached Amy’s neighborhood, he got the driver to drop him a couple of blocks away. His heart was still racing, and no amount of slow and steady breathing was going to still it. The streets were quiet, the tourists having long since gone back to their hotels when the bars and restaurants had begun to close down for the night. Only a handful of stragglers remained.
Using his key, he let himself into the building and took the elevator to her floor. When the elevator opened, he walked to her door but refrained from unlocking it, even though she’d told him it was okay to use the key he’d been given at the beginning of the op. Instead, he knocked, wanting to give her time to compose herself and decide whether she even wanted to see him tonight.
A shadow ghosted the peephole.
Smart woman.
He heard the telltale rattle of the chain and slide of the deadbolt before the door opened.
“Are you okay?” she asked before he had a chance to speak. Her hair was damp from the shower and she was no longer in her uniform. Her pale pink tank was so thin he couldn’t help but notice her erect nipples. Her navy blue sleep shorts were loose and covered in flamingos. But it was her eyes, wide and bright, that held his attention. She was worried about him, and the thought warmed him in places the
whiskey hadn’t reached.
“I should be asking you that. Did he hurt you?”
The shrill whistle of the kettle distracted them both, and Amy hurried to the kitchen to turn it off. “I’m fine,” she said, although her voice faintly wavered. “Do you think we blew it?” She shook her head and sighed before opening the cupboard to get two mugs. “I should have gone with him.”
What the hell? “Can I look at you?” he gestured to her side.
Amy sighed and nodded.
He took a step toward her and gently lifted the hem of her tank that had risen as she’d reached for the mugs. A series of bruises ran up her hip, and his fingertips almost matched them perfectly. “Son of a bitch,” he cursed. “He left marks on you.”
“They’ll fade,” Amy said with a shrug. But the wariness in her eyes told him that Woods had both scared and hurt her. “What happened after I left? And what were you doing with Sokolov?”
Cabe took her hands, then her wrists, and then her arms, turning them carefully to look for injuries. Her skin was soft and warm, which made it even harder to accept that some asshole had held her so tightly that he’d left purple and red marks behind. “I drank a watered-down whiskey and told him he was lucky you didn’t call the police. He now thinks he owes me one.”
“And Sokolov?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but suffice it to say he now owes me one too. I’ll tell you the whole thing tomorrow, but for now let me look after you.”
Her hands began to shake in his. “We almost blew it tonight. You shouldn’t have been around the back of that building. There was no reason for you to be there.”
“Amy, keeping you safe is my priority.” Gently, he put his arms around her and held her close.
“Your priority is those women and the money laundering,” she said, her words muffled against his shirt. “I can take care of myself.”
In spite of the situation, he felt the corner of his lip twitch. Her ability to stay focused on their goals was stronger than his own. And he wondered when he had become so affected by her that he’d lost his usual concentration. He brushed his lips to the top of her head as his body absorbed the fact that she was pressed up against him.
Deep Cover--A Love Over Duty Novel Page 14
