Strange Tango

by Michelle Dayton

  She accepted the toast and took another sip. Glancing around, her face broke into an unexpected, childlike smile. “I’ve never flown first class before.”

  That dimple in her right cheek was damn appealing. “It’s a treat,” he agreed.

  He waited until she’d finished her drink before he said, “Shall we start sharing information? It is a three-hour flight.”

  “You first.”

  He inclined his head. “As you wish. Two years ago, Knoll found himself in severe financial difficulty. The last company he started didn’t do as well as expected, and he sold it at a terrible loss. Then he went through a very expensive divorce. Instead of taking time to recover and properly research a new venture, he borrowed a large sum of money to start a new company—which also failed.”

  “I know that already,” Jess said. Adam raised an eyebrow. She couldn’t have come by that information very easily—or legally. Hmmm. Either she must have decided that hacking into Knoll’s bank was worth the considerable risk—or she was so good at it, it wasn’t very risky. He’d love to know which it was.

  She cocked her head at him. “I couldn’t find where he borrowed the money for the new company though. One day his accounts were almost empty and the next, he was absolutely flush again. The money came from shell companies that I couldn’t trace.”

  “That makes sense,” Adam said. “Because he borrowed the money from Arnie Sedarno.” Finally, finally, Knoll had made the perfect mistake. Adam had been waiting for years for such an exquisite blunder. The error that would open the door to ruin and retribution.

  Jess shook her head. “That name doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  “Arnie Sedarno is the head of one of the largest organized crime families in the country,” he stated. “Allegedly.”

  She blanched. “Oh. So he lost a bunch of the mob’s money. That’s why he turned to diamond smuggling?”

  “Exactly. Knoll needs a quiet and untraceable way to pay back Sedarno. Diamonds can be used almost like cash,” he explained. “The smugglers I spoke to suspect Knoll has connections to some unregulated diamond mines in a West African country, but they didn’t know much beyond that.”

  After a short pause, she surprised him by changing topics. “Why are we going to Vegas?” He’d expected a barrage of follow-up questions regarding the mechanics of diamond smuggling, which made him a bit suspicious that she already knew something about Africa. Interesting.

  But he couldn’t blame her curiosity. The trip to Vegas was a fun little twist. “I have a contact on Knoll’s staff,” he said. “He called yesterday to let me know that Knoll was taking an unexpected trip to Vegas. He had to cancel everything else on his schedule for two days to go.”

  “Which tells us?”

  He liked her use of the word “us.” “It tells us that Sedarno has summoned him, likely to discuss repayment.”

  “You have a contact on Sedarno’s staff too?”

  “No. I don’t mess with the families,” he said seriously. “That’s a good way to get killed. I formed this hunch simply by using Google.”

  It was a well-known fact that Sedarno’s current mistress was a professional tango dancer. This week, the Skylar, Vegas’s new luxury hotel, was hosting the largest tango festival in America. “Sedarno’s mistress will be performing and teaching workshops. It’s a solid bet that Sedarno will be there to watch her. He’s mixing business with pleasure. Knoll borrowed the money almost exactly two years ago. Sedarno probably wants to yank his chain a little.”

  Jess looked out the window, nodding, seeming to absorb the information. Today she wore dark jeans and a fitted white blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a low, neat ponytail. Small silver hoops hung from her ears. This was probably the version of herself she most often presented to the world, he realized, although he hadn’t seen her this way before. He found it disorienting—and more than a little disconcerting—that he was completely turned on by each version of Jess that he’d seen.

  This could get complicated.

  The flight attendant offered Jess a second mimosa. After a brief hesitation, she took it. “What exactly are we doing in Vegas?”

  He smiled at the flight attendant, accepted a glass of champagne, and waited for her to walk away. “We’re going to find a way to listen to the exchange between Knoll and Sedarno. Knoll might offer up details of his plans. At the very least, we’ll probably learn more about timing.”

  She sat back against her seat. He could almost hear the questions piling up in her brain. But he’d shared enough for the moment. Now, it was her turn. “Quid pro quo, partner.”

  * * *

  Jess swallowed, wishing her insides felt as calm as her outside looked. It was one thing to be high on endorphins and agree to a theoretical partnership with a criminal man of mystery. It was quite another to be on a plane with said man, heading to Sin City to try and eavesdrop on a mob boss.

  What in God’s name was she doing? She was supposed to be digging herself out of trouble, not getting in deeper. But she had to admit—there was as much excitement as nervousness swimming in her veins.

  Adam took a swallow of champagne and cocked his head, waiting. She cleared her throat. Too late to turn back now. “I was able to see what Knoll’s been doing with the unlimited system access.

  “He used the student system to admit and enroll four transfer students late last fall. All four are atypical students for Ignatius. They’re older than twenty-three and don’t have good academic records at other institutions. Then, he used the Office of International Programs’ system to admit them into study abroad programs for the spring semester.”

  She went on. “This is in clear breach of University policy. Transfer students are supposed to be at the Chicago campus for at least two semesters before even applying to go abroad. The staff at the Office of International Programs is usually really involved with all the study abroad students. I can’t imagine how they’re not noticing.”

  Adam shrugged. “Bribery is one of Knoll’s most effective methods of getting things done. He probably just paid someone to look the other way.”

  Jess frowned. “Oh. Right.” Clearly, she needed to start thinking worse of people. Hadn’t she learned that much in the past six months?

  He glanced over. “That’s probably what happened with your boss too.”

  She dropped her eyes to her lap, feeling the familiar wave of sadness and humiliation. “Not probably; I know that’s what happened.”

  “You do?”

  She shrugged, eyes still downcast. “After I got fired and Seymour said those things to the press, I dug into his finances. He was absolutely flat broke a year ago. He’d invested his entire retirement portfolio in risky stocks that crashed. Last fall, he was existing paycheck to paycheck.”

  Jess cleared her throat to break up the lump and wondered when she’d stop feeling so sad about Seymour’s betrayal. He’d always been such a kind boss, almost a mentor. His lies and renouncement had shaken her, almost more than anything else about the debacle.

  “What happened next?” Adam asked. She was glad his tone remained conversational. If he’d sounded sympathetic, she wasn’t sure she could swallow back tears.

  “A sudden deposit of $250,000. The week before I was fired.” She shrugged again. “The amount matched a withdrawal from one of Knoll’s accounts the same week.” It was disgusting and fascinating at the same time, to know the exact dollar figure for which she’d been thrown under the proverbial bus. She forced a bitter laugh. “I would have thought I was worth more.”

  Adam didn’t say anything, but he reached over and squeezed her hand, held on to it. She shifted in her seat, flummoxed. She had no idea what to do with the tangible offer of comfort.

  Gently, she pulled away. She appreciated his sympathy, but her entire body had started to tingle at the touch of his wa
rm hand. Rule number one for this trip: no touching.

  “Uh, so, as you may have guessed, all four of the students Knoll admitted are now in study abroad programs in Africa. Ignatius is unusual in that we have so many African locations, but it relates to the missionary history. He’s sent his own smugglers near the countries where the diamond mining industry is not tightly regulated.”

  Adam whistled. “It’s a pretty ingenious plan, actually. He’s sent members of his own team, probably ones he knows he can trust, to the region under a completely legitimate cover. No one will look twice at college kids traveling with a conservative University’s long-standing study and missionary programs. I didn’t Knoll was so creative.” He snorted. “If he’d put half as much thought into his last business, maybe it wouldn’t have failed.”

  Jess wondered what would happen now that she’d handed over most of her information. There was nothing stopping him from walking away; she wasn’t sure what else she could contribute to the partnership.

  “Have you ever been to Vegas before?”

  She blinked at the change of subject. “Once. Three years ago. For my sister-in-law’s bachelorette party.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “You know what to expect then.”

  She supposed so. “Booze, gambling, half-naked women with fake tits, good restaurants, pool parties, Britney Spears, conferences, and Carrot Top.”

  “Exactly.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. Something about the crinkles at the edges of those bright blue eyes. They made her want to be funny, to make him laugh, to impress the hell out of him.

  Dangerous ideas, all. She was in over her head here. She needed to worry about herself, not about impressing him. Or, maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. She needed him more than he needed her. But if he liked having her around...hmmm.

  “You have the strangest smile on your face,” he murmured. “What are you thinking about right now?” He reached over and traced a finger along her bottom lip. She wondered what he would do if she sucked the tip into her mouth. “Whatever it is, it’s making me extremely nervous.”

  Jess just gazed at him with her lips curved. She could work with that.

  Chapter Seven

  Jess was glad Adam wasn’t with her as she checked into the Wynn Las Vegas. If he’d been standing next to her, she would have felt required to act cool and collected, as though she was accustomed to staying in suites at luxury resorts.

  On her own, however, she felt free to stare as long as she wanted at the five-star surroundings. The fresh bouquets of rainbow-colored flowers on every surface, the huge parasols that hung over the lobby bars, the eight different fine dining restaurants. She took her time wandering through the casino dotted with high-stakes tables, the sumptuous gardens in the lobby, the esplanade of shops like Cartier, Dior, and Prada.

  Wandering outside, she strolled next to pool after turquoise pool where tan women in itsy-bitsy bikinis and straw fedoras stood chatting and checking their phones. She peeked into the private cabanas that boasted mini-fridges, plasma TVs, and plush sofas. She even found a secluded, adults-only European pool that allowed topless sunbathing.

  When she finally pushed her keycard into her suite door, she felt like she’d taken a stroll on another planet. Yes, she’d been to Vegas before. But for heaven’s sake, she traveled on a budget. Growing up in a family of five kids with one working parent, one learned a pretty frugal way of life.

  She decided to take a shower. The glass-enclosed cube with eighteen different jets looked a little too good to pass up. Especially since her neck had a four-hour-flight crick in it, and her mind was fuzzy from the mimosas.

  As the plane had rolled to a stop, Adam said, “When we land, we go our separate ways. I’ve booked a room in your name at the Wynn. Go check in and I’ll meet up with you later.”

  “Why?”

  She didn’t much care for the condescending expression that crossed over his face. “When you’re in the hunt, you always act in the present while planning for the future,” he said. “Let’s say that in two months, Knoll or law enforcement decides to investigate the missing diamonds. Maybe Knoll remembers that he felt like he was being in watched in Vegas. Maybe he remembers what I look like. Well, lucky him. There are more security cameras in Vegas than practically anywhere else in the world. If we’re captured together on the footage, now we’re linked. You’re traveling under your own name. If they put all the pieces together, Blondie, for the rest of your life, you’re associated with a theft.”

  While she felt lame for being so naïve, she had to appreciate the foresight. She just wished he’d been more detailed. What did “later” mean? Tonight? Tomorrow? She was completely disoriented about time already. It was just after noon, Vegas time, which seemed impossible, but their flight had been early, and they gained a few hours flying here.

  The pulsating jets in the steamy shower did wonders for her muscles and state of mind. After a decadent twenty minutes, she forced herself to get out. Should she try to nap? Save her energy for later? What was her part on the surveillance of Knoll and Sedarno? Wrapping herself in a lush white towel, she walked out of the bathroom.

  And shrieked when she saw the large stranger sitting on her sofa.

  Of course, she immediately felt foolish when he grinned. “Easy, Blondie, just me.”

  His disguise was very Vegas. His brown hair was styled into spikes with frosted blond tips, and he wore crazy-large sunglasses with purple lenses. Tan pants and a strangely shiny purple golf shirt completed the look.

  “You look like an aging boy band member about to play the US Open,” she said.

  He laughed. “Good. Exactly what I was going for.”

  “I’d ask how you got in here, but that would be silly.” She wrapped her towel a little tighter around her body, acutely aware that while it was thick, it wasn’t long. She was showing a hell of a lot of bare, wet leg. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the ridiculous shades, and she wondered if he was looking at her legs. Wondered what it said about her that she hoped he was.

  “Sorry for the intrusion,” he said. “But I got some news. Things are moving faster than I anticipated. My contact on Knoll’s staff told me that he and Sedarno are meeting this afternoon. They’re playing golf here. Tee time is 1:30.”

  “Golf? Where?”

  Adam stood and stretched. Sometimes she forgot just how tall he was. She was 5’8” in her bare feet and he still loomed over her. “The Wynn has the only golf course on the Strip. It’s astronomically expensive, but you can’t beat the convenience of an 18-hole course without leaving your hotel. Sedarno plays it often.”

  He sighed. “It’s bad news for us, actually. It’s just the two of them playing, so this will undoubtedly be when they discuss business. We probably won’t be able to learn much.”

  “What do you mean? What are we going to do?”

  “I’m going to bug their golf cart,” he said matter-of-factly. “My equipment will make a recording of their conversation. If they discuss Knoll’s repayment in the cart, we’ll be golden.”

  “Ah,” she said, finally understanding. “But if they talk about it on the tee or the green, we’ll hear nothing.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jess started to pace, making sure she had a firm grip on the towel. “If they’re just playing in a twosome, why don’t we try to join them for the round? They won’t want to discuss business around a couple of strangers, so they’ll more likely discuss it in the cart and then we’ll have it captured.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  She tried not to feel upset that he so instantly dismissed her idea. “Why not?”

  He sighed. “It would be a terrible move to spend all afternoon with them. They’d remember our faces, voices, body language. Remember—we’re trying to stay anonymous. Also, even if we could possibly
disguise ourselves to an acceptable degree, they’d never agree to let us join their group.”

  Really, she wasn’t pouting. “Why not?” she asked again.

  Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m a younger, more athletic man than either of them. Both of them are hyper-aggressive and competitive. They won’t want to put themselves in a position of being embarrassed on the course in front of one another.”

  He looked at her from head to toe. A little more thoroughly than was necessary. “And you’re, obviously, a woman.”

  She knew what he meant. Hell, she’d dealt with the sexism inherent in golf for most of her life. But she couldn’t resist snipping at him. “What does that mean?”

  “They won’t want to play with a woman. They’d think you’d slow them down.” When she glared at him, he held up his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. It’s just how it is.”

  She took a deep breath. “So what should I do while you’re planting the bug?”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you want. Go lay by the pool and relax or something. Do some gambling.” He threw a bunch of casino chips on the coffee table. “This’ll get you started. I’ll probably hang out in the clubhouse for a few hours, make sure the bug is transmitting.”

  Adam pointed to the phone on the nightstand. “Check your room messages every couple of hours. When I’m done, I’ll let you know our next steps.”

  He stood and walked out of the room. “Have fun!” The door shut softly behind him.

  Jess sat at the edge of the bed, eyebrows furrowed. Why did she feel so annoyed? Shouldn’t she feel grateful that he wasn’t involving her in setting an illegal recording device on a mobster’s golf cart? Shouldn’t she feel happy for a little free time to relax in the sunshine?

  Hell no. She’d been rotting on the beach in Florida for months. She didn’t want to sit around and wait for him to leave a message with next steps. She wanted to act, to be part of the solution.

  Especially in this scenario. For God’s sake, this little twist was practically hand-crafted for her. She picked up the chips and counted them. Whew—almost $1,500.00. He sure wasn’t stingy, she’d give him that.