Vegas Rain

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Vegas Rain Page 8

by Rick Murcer


  Good girl.

  “You’re right. I’d be a liar, don’t ya know, if I said I wasn’t scared, but ya got to get this over and done with, man. I’ll be going with ya, too,” she said, her Irish lilt always more evident when she was emotional.

  He kissed her and shook his head. “You got the next generation of Williams’s growing inside, and whoever this is, knows it. That’s not going to happen, okay?”

  She stared at him, and then sighed, slowly nodding. “You’re right—again. Besides, I’d be puking for days after the flight.”

  “There’s another reason you won’t be going. We’ll talk about that in a minute,” said Josh.

  He turned to Manny. “You, Dean, and Sophie leave this afternoon.”

  “Hey, you forgot me,” said Alex.

  “Actually, I didn’t. You’re the second thing we have to discuss. You’re going back to Quantico with me,” said Josh.

  Alex’s look bordered on incredulous. “What? Like hell. I’m not letting these three have all of the fun. I’m going to Vegas.”

  Josh put his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “There’s a new developmental prosthesis that the military’s been working on. The Bureau wants you to be the first to be fitted and run through beta testing.”

  Alex’s jaw dropped, and then he regained his composure. “Sounds great, but it’ll wait.”

  “Actually it won’t. Alex. This thing looks like a real hand. It’s almost science fiction with its potential. It could break barriers with what this could do not only for you, but for all those people who could possibly gain back something they’d believed they lost forever. In your case, a hand.”

  Watching the wheels turn, Manny saw Alex’s expression change to acknowledgment, then back to reflect his fierce loyalty. It was what had cost him the hand in the first place.

  “As great as that sounds, I’m not leaving my friends. They’ll need me,” said Alex with less conviction.

  “They’ll have help from the Vegas office. Besides, this is an order, Alex. The only way you don’t go to HQ with me is if you don’t work for the FBI, got it?”

  Alex’s stare moved from Josh to Manny, then back to Josh.

  His eyes were flashing, but he kept his cool. “You’re an asshole, Corner, but I get it,” said Alex, pushing Josh’s hand off his shoulder.

  “Sometimes. But I know what I’m doing. I fought hard to get you this opportunity and you’re taking it.”

  Josh put his hand back on Alex’s shoulder. “Listen. I know how you feel. You think I want to go back to headquarters, let them go it alone in Vegas? I don’t have a choice either.”

  Manny watched this scene play out and understood that Josh’s mood was in part because he wouldn’t be with his team.

  “I have to spend three or four days in testing and questioning regarding my future. It seems they won’t take no for an answer. I’m not given the choice for what’s next . . . well, I have a choice, but since I have a family and a mortgage, I’m sort of screwed.”

  “Is this about the assistant director’s opening?” asked Manny.

  “I can’t discuss what’s going on. Like I said, you’ll have to trust me.”

  “So is that why you’ve been so pissy?” asked Sophie.

  Josh sighed. “Part of it.”

  He turned to Chloe. “I’m going to miss you.”

  Tilting her head, she gave him a half smile. “You are, aren’t ya?”

  “Okay. Shitty agenda item number three. The Bureau decided to eliminate Chloe’s position and was going to send her back to the terrorism unit. I told the AD this wasn’t acceptable. He told me he didn’t care what I thought. I said she would quit. He said the Bureau would miss her, but so be it.”

  “Damn, dude, you struck completely out today,” said Sophie.

  “I was sure I was on the bubble here, so now I’m not feeling too underappreciated,” said Chloe, smiling.

  “What bullshit,” said Alex.

  “I agree, but Gavin fixed all that by offering to hire Chloe with the LPD. She’s going to be an LPD employee now.”

  Chloe stood again, her impish grin reappearing. “What do ya all think?”

  “I think you’ll make a great LPD detective,” said Alex.

  Turning back to Gavin and Josh, who were now standing together, she raised her hand.

  “Okay. It’s totally official. I quit and I accept.”

  Walking over to her chair, Josh wrapped his arms around Chloe. “Like I said, I’ll miss the hell out of working with you; you’re one of the best. And I didn’t have to fire you.”

  “So you were going to fire me?” she asked, holding him at arm’s length.

  “Yeah, I would have to when you said ‘no’ to going back to the terrorism unit, which you would have.”

  “You’re such a smart man,” she said, smiling.

  Over the next thirty minutes, Manny watched and talked with the others as they congratulated Chloe and Alex for what was coming next for each of them. Yet, he couldn’t escape the next pointed, unspoken segment of his journey and the unavoidable question that accompanied it.

  Who awaited him in Las Vegas?

  CHAPTER-17

  The constant sounds echoing throughout any casino in Las Vegas were as varied as the time of day in which those sounds emanated. The sensory overload that was the very essence of Las Vegas was prominent on the outside of the colorful modern day castles and pyramids, but was no match for the inside of those monstrous dwellings.

  From the soft bells and whistles to the loud jackpot ringing to let everyone know someone had just won a few dollars, the ambience escalated when the occasional obnoxious scream sprang forth to announce that some unsuspecting, would-be sucker had hit the right tumble of a slot machine’s symbols, giving the winner a grand or two. The winners must believe they’d just forced the house into a serious cash deficiency and had to make some destiny-appointed amendment. That had to be true because why else would the fools turn around and give it all back?

  He uncrossed his legs and turned his barstool slowly back toward the casino floor of the Egyptian. It was particularly busy for an early afternoon, which made his plan for the rest of the day a little simpler to put in motion. Not that it mattered much—he never really had a problem getting what he wanted. Today would be no exception.

  Standing, he scanned the enormous room, taking in the motif designed to take the visitors back in time. He had to admit, he held a certain fascination for the ancient culture of the Pharaohs. The designers of the resort had done their homework. He did wonder, however, if the architects those three thousand years ago had carried his same appreciation for how business was conducted. He doubted it. One would have to see the world through his eyes to value the power of a Pharaoh.

  He understood power.

  “Are you leaving so soon?” asked the young barmaid in her best tip-me-well voice.

  Standing, he picked up his whisky and tonic and smiled. “Leaving has such permanent connotations, don’t you think?”

  He could almost see her melt.

  “You’re right. It’s just that I think a man like yourself shouldn’t be without companionship, you know?” she answered, eyes wide.

  “I couldn’t agree more. Do you have any ideas on how I might remedy that situation?”

  “I’m off tomorrow, if that works for you,” she offered.

  Looking down at her, he threw a fifty on the bar then tipped his white Fedora. “That is an intriguing possibility. Perhaps I’ll return to escort you away from this madness.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  A moment later, he was making his way amid the tangle of lights, smoke, and people, looking for what he needed to complete the day’s quest. He was in no hurry; he guessed the Feds were still six to eight hours out, giving him plenty of time to put the finishing touch on the week’s early activities. And what a week it had been.

  Still, the best was yet to come.

  Strolling leisurely, he moved past the high-st
akes poker tables, circled the blackjack tables and the cashier’s cage. He glanced up at one of the security cameras bulging from the low-slung ceiling just above the high-roller lounge, doffed his hat, and then mouthed a greeting. A special greeting intended for one audience. Only that person would understand it. His adversary had proved more than capable over the years, and he sensed that it was time for the journey to end for one of them. It wouldn’t be him.

  Bowing, he hesitated to make sure his target would get a good look, then replaced his hat and moved to the adjacent expanse of the casino’s slot machine section. There were smaller gambling establishments in Las Vegas, but he doubted any was larger than the Egyptian’s. That was why he was here, was it not? Grand and larger than life had always appealed to him .

  Stepping around the corner, he stopped, tilting his head ever so slightly. His patience had proven fruitful. Sitting at a video poker machine was the reason he had spent hours here. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman on the planet, but certainly a nice-looking forty-something who would fit quite nicely for the activities he had planned. He smiled. After all, he was here for her mind, as well as the rest of her.

  Sitting next to the woman, he inserted a one-hundred-dollar bill into the machine. She glanced away from her slot to see who had invaded her space and did a classic retake, scanning him faster than an airport security machine.

  “Hi. Holy smokes, you’re a tall one. Good looking too, if I might be bold. I’m surprised your woman let you out of her sight,” she said, smiling warmly.

  “Hello, my dear. Why, I believe you’re correct on my height and thank you for the compliment. But I’m currently out of a relationship. I’m sure you’ll agree life simply gets in the way of that from time to time.”

  He watched as she drained her complimentary margarita and turned her chair toward him, brushing her knees against his thigh. “Well, I’ve lost too much money and had a few drinks, so this could get interesting for both of us.”

  “Indeed, it could.”

  Tapping the deal button, two queens, two kings, and an ace beeped across the screen. He held the two queens.

  “You’re going to lose all of that money,” she warned. “My girlfriend just left and fed that damned thief two hundred big ones before she decided to go to the pool.”

  “I see. I thank you for your concern, but all things change, yes?”

  “I suppose. But I’m not seeing it.”

  Tipping his hat, he smiled. “If I win this hand, I’ll cash out, and escort you to your room for, shall we say, a late lunch, and then I suggest we partake in whatever else consenting adults do in this town.”

  Reaching up, she kissed him, her low-cut blouse allowing her fleshy breasts to touch his shoulder.

  “Best offer I’ve had all day.”

  “I’m surprised by that,” he said.

  “Don’t be. We cougars don’t get as many opportunities as people think. We ain’t hard bodies anymore.”

  “Too bad for the men who ignore you. You have many fine attributes.”

  She put her hand on his thigh and squeezed. “Okay. Now I’m getting pumped. Hit that button . . . and come on, queens.”

  Never looking at the screen, only at her face, he pushed the red deal button and almost instantaneously heard the machine chime that he’d won.

  She tilted her neck and swore softly. “Unbelievable, you just hit four ladies.”

  “How fortunate, for both of us.”

  “Oh, you have no idea. This is going to be a day you’ll never forget,” she said, standing and taking his hand.

  After claiming his winnings, he led his date toward the elevator that serviced the southwest tower of the resort.

  As they rode up to the twenty-fourth floor, she stuck out her hand, smiling. “I’m at least a little old-fashioned and think we should know each other’s names before we begin play time. I’m Grace Burleson.”

  “How charming and refreshing. I concur with your concept of etiquette. It’s so very nice to meet you, Grace. You may call me Fredrick.”

  CHAPTER-18

  Sophie released her seatbelt buckle, slowly stood, and steadied herself. She swore she would stop flying one of these days. Flying might go hand in hand with her job, but she didn’t have to like it. Hate was a better word.

  Walking ever so cautiously toward the front of the cabin, where the small refrigerator held bottled water and juice, she prayed for a smooth trip. Water would help with the slight case of nausea, she hoped.

  Without warning, the Gulf Stream V skipped through an air pocket, and Sophie lunged to the right, screaming in pure panic as she hurtled into the air. Her eyes widened, her heartbeat soared as she grasped the air for an imaginary handle, desperately trying to recapture her balance. A second later, she landed unceremoniously into Manny’s lap.

  It took a moment to realize she hadn’t been sucked out of the cabin through a hole the size of a pin and that she would probably live. Now all she had to do was to convince her stomach of the same truth.

  She looked up at Manny.

  “For crying out loud. This is total crap. All I wanted was a bottle of water and a tiny nap before we talk about your game plan, that’s all. Damn, is that too much to ask?”

  Manny laughed. His blue eyes were bright and alive. Even in the crazy set of events of the last twenty-fours, he was at ease. Strong, even confidant. Sophie couldn’t negate the idea that the man seemed to be more and more at peace with what was coming next, even if she wasn’t.

  “What are you smiling at?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I’m just glad I was here to help.”

  “Well, aren’t you just a saint? And don’t get any ideas. Chloe’s hot and her boobs are even bigger with that pregnant thing, but if you ever had the best, you’d never go back to the rest.”

  Nodding, Manny’s grin grew. “I’ll remember that. Let me help you up.”

  By then, Dean was out of his chair, extending his hand.

  “Me too. I wouldn’t want you to be the cause of any domestic disputes. Besides, I’m a little jealous you’re in his lap and not mine,” he said.

  “It’s good to be the queen. But I don’t need help getting up.”

  With that, she hoisted herself to her feet, flicked at a wrinkle on her sweater, and stepped toward the ice box.

  “I guess not. Grab a water for me too, please, and since your nap’s been interrupted, let’s talk about Vegas,” said Manny.

  There it was again. That quiet confidence. She knew he’d been worried concerning his family since the BAU had returned from North Carolina. Who wouldn’t have been? But none of that concern was evident now, at least on the outside. Still, there had to be some doubt.

  On one hand, you believe the psychopath you put in the ground a year before was no longer a twisted, fearful threat. On the other, in just a few short days, that perception had been blown sky-high and, maybe, just maybe, all that seemed certain was cast into doubt—the bastard could actually be alive. Yet, Manny seemed to embrace the situation. It was as if he knew this was it. The final confrontation between him and whomever, or whatever, represented Argyle.

  It would his version of the O.K. Corral.

  Grabbing three waters, she stepped back to Manny, handing a bottle to him and Dean.

  “Here you are, but you have to promise me something.”

  “Sure. What?”

  Manny’s large, hairy hand took the water ever so gently from her, his eyes not leaving hers. She returned his gaze and searched . . . the way he’d taught her. He’d always said that eyes were not only windows to the soul, but windows to the very heart of a person’s intent. The very torment or blessing that engaged one’s soul, the inner mind.

  She felt her heart skip a beat because the candor in his gaze was blatant. The man was hiding nothing. That wasn’t always so with Manny Williams. Sometimes he hid his suspicions to protect the BAU and his family from unnecessary worry. Not now. Not this moment. No bullshit. No pretense. Simply straightfor
ward Manny. For reasons she couldn’t identify, it was almost scary to see that in a special agent.

  Furthermore, he knew exactly what she’d been mulling around in her brain. His expression said so. That was even more disconcerting.

  She bent to within a few inches of his face. Still, his gaze fixed on hers. She said, “I’m probably stating the obvious here, but you’ll tell Dean and me everything, I mean everything, you’re thinking. Since it’s just the three of us, it’ll help to get the skinny from your point of view. Not to mention, even though your theories are way out there, you’ve been known to be right, once in a while.”

  “Fair enough, Sophie. Fair enough. But you already know much that’s on my mind, don’t you?”

  “Maybe, but I’m from Missouri and need to be shown.”

  “What? I thought you were from California,” said Dean, grinning.

  “So you’ve been paying attention?” asked Sophie.

  Dean adjusted his yellow paisley driver’s cap as his grin faded.

  “Yes. I have. I’m not in tune to the two of you as you are to each other, but I see enough to know there’s more going on than I understand sometimes. So you’ll both have to go slow and tell me what the hell’s going on.”

  Moving next to Dean, Sophie sat down, put her cold water in the holder, buckled her belt, and took Dean’s hand.

  “Are you ready to get into this man’s mind?” she asked.

  “Ready,” said Dean, not sounding at all like he was.

  “Ready is good,” answered Manny.

  He turned to her, that look of calm still etched on his face.

  “And Sophie, you make me sound like something offbeat and perhaps a bit crazy,” he said softly.

  “Yeah, well, I’m sure you’re crazy, on some level, like the rest of us, because of what we do, but you can dive a little deeper into that water than the rest of us. Offbeat is a given. So let’s get to this.”

  She prayed she sounded more willing than she really was to hear what was coming next. She shook it off. No matter what they had been through, this was Manny. The Guardian of the Universe. Not to mention the person she wanted to be when she grew up, if that ever happened.

 

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