“It’ll only take a minute,” she said, entering the parking garage of the Rio Grande Towers. An upscale high-rise located just off the Strip.
“This is where you live?” He was impressed, confused and curious all at the same time and he tried to hide the shortcomings.
“Yep.”
Eddie’s new partner was sporting around town in a smokin’ Corvette, and she was probably the only cop in an apartment building clearly outside a cop’s budget—a clean one anyway.
She parked the car in a reserved spot next to the elevators. “Five minutes.” She acknowledged the stains on her blouse and slacks, which had begun to dry. “You want to come up?”
“Well, I kind of like the wet T-shirt look you’ve got going on,” he said, opening the car door.
He wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to get inside her apartment, for various reasons. He was starting to wonder how she afforded her pricey lifestyle. There could be a plausible explanation. It could go fifty-fifty, either way. Until it dipped in one direction or the other, he’d put his judgment on hold pending more corroborating evidence.
“If I were a criminal,” she said, and he followed her into a long, winding corridor inside the building, “I would never agree to sell you hot guns after knowing you only a few weeks.”
“Neither would I. But how often does the criminal mind think logically?”
Not as often as they should. Otherwise they wouldn’t get caught.
She led him around a corner and through double doors to a security doorman sitting behind a desk.
“Afternoon, Miss Rio.” The guard, a thin, well-dressed man in his forties with graying hair at the temples, greeted her with a toothy smile.
“How’s it going, Larry?” She paused, pointing a thumb at Eddie. “This is my partner, Eddie LaCall. Anytime he shows up here, let him through.”
“You got it.” Larry gave Eddie a quick nod.
Trailing behind Rio, Eddie returned Larry’s nod with a swift once-over. Inside the elevator, she punched the twentieth button. The top floor. The penthouse? A definite piece of corroborating evidence.
The sodas, teas and waters from the spill back at the restaurant had settled into her clothing like a giant sore, but it didn’t seem to bother her. He contemplated getting her into something more comfortable. Or at least revealing.
Bad. That’s bad, LaCall. He may be there to draw her in, but he wasn’t supposed to be the one ending up smitten.
The elevator doors opened at the twentieth floor and he pursued her into the short hallway.
“So why don’t you put on that little outfit you were wearing when we busted Bellmore?” His suggestion masked his survey of the twentieth floor. Just two doors. Two penthouses.
“In your dreams.” Sarcasm shrouded her laughter and she opened the door.
“You’ve been there. Many times,” he said, taking a quick scan of the interior. A splendid penthouse feathered with fine furnishings.
She threw her keys onto a small antique-looking table by the door, moved across a sunken and spacious living room and disappeared behind a door on the other side of the kitchen.
Eddie scrutinized his surroundings. The room cast an impression of opulence. Extra padding cushioned the plush gray carpet beneath his booted feet.
A couch and a loveseat looked inviting and he had no doubt they’d feel like sitting on a cloud. The peach and lavender pattern was different, one he’d never choose, but it was somehow bearable to his senses.
The right side of the room included a striking window, it must have been ten-feet high and spanned the width of the wall. He’d bet it overlooked the Strip. What a magnificent view that must be at night.
This place didn’t just suggest corruption, it was a big red flag screaming look at me.
* * *
Rio dressed quickly into tan slacks and a matching front-buttoning blouse. As she slipped her feet into a pair of Earth Shoes at the foot of the bed, her cell phone jingled inside the pocket of her soiled pants. She grabbed her slacks and fished out her phone.
Digger.
Odd for her to be calling. Odd and scary. She only called during work hours when there were signs of impending trouble.
“Dig, talk to me. What’s up?”
“You’re not going to like it.” There was an edge to her voice. One that told Rio she was worried.
“Just give it to me straight.”
“The tea leaves are against you.”
“What?”
Oh, boy. Here we go again. Rio had a hard time acknowledging the validity of such things, but so far that hadn’t had any effect on Digger’s prediction accuracy.
“For three days in a row, I’ve been seeing the same thing.” She dropped the bomb and then stopped.
Why did she do that? She knew it annoyed Rio.
“On track, Dig. Let’s stay on track.”
“You know I’m not fond of that,” she said. “Especially when it’s this bad.”
“How bad is bad?”
“I’m seeing two problems for you.”
“Two?” Rio uttered the word weaker than she’d anticipated.
“Someone is watching you.”
“Am I in danger?”
“They’re watching your every move.” The silence on the line made the seconds lag like eons. “I don’t know who and I don’t know why, but their focus on you is bordering on creepy.”
Rio gave the anonymous letter some much needed attention. Retrieving it from her desk drawer at work and scrutinizing it further moved up to the top of her to-do list.
“You mean like stalker-y kind of creepy?” She felt for the edge of the bed and eased down.
“Yes, so be careful.” There it was again, that eerie quiet on the line. “You know how easy it is for the stalker personality to go from fantasy to anger.”
“Yes.” That was easy for a lot of people, not just those with stalker-tendencies. “What else?” Rio hadn’t forgotten that she’d said two things. Given the facts of the first, the second was weighing heavy like a large boulder.
“Someone wants to discredit you.”
Rio’s mind jammed with a chaotic surge of information. Nervous anxiety hammered her heart with a good workout. “Can you be a little more specific?”
“You’re working with someone who is not what they seem,” she said. “A mole.”
“A mole?” Shock and worry rippled through her like a flag waving in the wind. “Can you see their purpose or who they’re working for?”
“I don’t think their initial intent was directed at you, but it seems to be turning in your path lately.”
A puffing sound echoed across the wire and Rio knew Digger was lighting candles. For once, she hoped they worked.
“Is it Atkins?” A low strained voice gave way to anxiety. Rio was beginning to think the Las Vegas mob boss was going to be a source of irritation for years to come.
“It’s possible, but I can’t be sure.”
“I can. That’s just like Atkins to play these games. Discredit me so he can get an acquittal.”
“I can’t be sure. Don’t discard your other suspicions so easily.”
“Well, it may not be Atkins directly.” Rio pushed off the bed. “But he sure would benefit if someone succeeds in ruining my rep as a Fed, now wouldn’t he?” It wasn’t really a question and Rio knew Digger understood that.
“Rio...” Her voice trailed off into a tone of uncertainty. “Whatever’s going on, I can’t help but feel that both issues are tied together.”
Panic spilled shivers up her body. If Atkins had planted a spy in the department and was behind her stalking, he was much more powerful than she’d imagined.
“Dig, can you meet me for lunch tomorrow?”
“Sure. Want me to drop by the federal building around one?”
“That sounds great.” That’s what Rio liked about Digger, she never had to spell it out for her. Maybe she could pick up on the trickery going on inside the department tom
orrow and nobody would be the wiser. It would be disguised as a casual lunch date between friends.
Rio eased the phone shut and slipped it inside her pants’ pocket. If Digger was right, this was bad.
Who was she kidding? Digger was always right. This was no time to start doubting a woman who’d been nicknamed for her ability to “dig” into her powers of clairvoyancy and predict nothing but accurate prophecies. Not once had Digger been wrong in all the years Rio had known her—since junior high.
Fear knotted apprehension inside Rio’s gut. Sheer resilience moved her toward the door. If somebody was out to get her, was the note she found on her desk real? Did that letter have anything to do with the spy inside the department?
Suddenly, nothing about her world felt safe.
Opening the door, she heard Eddie’s voice, soft and low. Instinct and uneasiness urged her to stop and listen.
“I don’t know,” Eddie was saying. “I think I can salvage it, but you need to make sure the obstacle is removed.”
Obstacle? What obstacle? And what exactly did Eddie think he could salvage?
Perhaps Rio’s analysis that Eddie LaCall was too good to be true wasn’t too far off base.
Was he the mole? Rio didn’t like condemning the man without proof, but he was definitely up to something. If he was the spy, what did he know about that creepy letter?
Suddenly, Eddie LaCall lost a bit of his appeal.
CHAPTER 4
ANSWERING the phone had been a bad idea, especially with Rio in the next room. Stupid move. Really stupid. Eddie gave himself a swift mental kick. He’d have to be more careful in the future. No more meds.
Disconnecting the call, he drew a breath and willed away the caught sensation before turning to Rio.
“Sorry.” She shook her head, probably trying to feign nonchalance, and tucked her fingertips inside the waistband of her slacks.
“It’s alright,” he said. So long as she hadn’t heard too much.
She leaned against the doorjamb, leaving lots of risk-free space between them. No need to be so guarded. Eddie had a feeling she could hold her own.
A chill sliced through him and confusion fogged his brain. His legs felt like toothpicks trying to hold up a brick. Everything went black and he stumbled forward.
Seemingly from out of nowhere she caught him. He worried his frame would overpower hers and they’d both end up on the floor. She may be a kickass cop, on more levels than one, but when was a mountain ever stopped by a molehill? He was bigger than her. It was the law of physics, plain and simple.
The molehill moved the mountain toward the couch, proving him wrong. But, just as the law of physics promised, she succumbed to the pressure and they fell together onto the sofa.
Eddie’s hands trembled. What the hell...? He’d been so fixated on not hurting her that a gashing pain had snuck up on him and was now sawing his head apart with a dull hacksaw.
Pills. He needed pills. But he didn’t want them. Drugs meant losing control. Telling his secrets.
No. He could fight this. He could win. He just had to be stronger than the pain.
Her fingers invaded his mouth. She shoved in something that tasted a lot like chalk—damn it, the drugs.
“No, I don’t want it.” He protested, twisting his head back and forth, but she was too pushy. He coughed and she barricaded his mouth with the palm of her hand.
“Swallow it.” Her stern voice reminded him of Mrs. Larche, his second-grade teacher. She was scary. There was nothing scary about Rio, even though all their coworkers thought differently.
Okay. Okay. He’d swallow it. “Water,” he said, barely above a whisper.
“I’ll get you some water. But just lie down, okay? Don’t try to get up.”
“Somebody named Billy called.” Eddie propped his feet on the coffee table.
His mother’s chastising voice entered his head. Eddie, get your feet off the table. He’d heard that plenty of times as a kid.
A quick glimpse at Rio, in the kitchen pouring him a glass of water, she was oblivious of his violation. He slipped his feet off the table, unnoticed.
“Billy called? What’d he say?”
“Just that he’d call you back later.” Eddie studied Rio’s demeanor through his hazed cognizance. He pushed the confusion to the back of his mind, giving his curiosity more room to advance.
She didn’t say anything, just moved toward him with grace. Nothing about her gave away Billy’s identity. Hopefully he wasn’t a boyfriend. That would put a damper on Eddie’s plans.
“He must be a pretty open-minded guy.” He hit her with an open-ended question smothered in enough evasiveness that she might not recognize the masquerade.
“Open-minded?” She tilted her head and set the glass on the table. “Yeah, I guess.” She shrugged and sat, leaving a noticeable space between them.
“Well, I mean, you know, I answered your phone and all...”
She started laughing, one of those cackling wails born more out of absurdity than humor.
Eddie didn’t know what to make of it, but at least he’d diverted her from the phone call she’d walked in on. “I’m glad I could amuse you.” Somehow, insecurity had snuck into his tone. He didn’t like it but it was useful. It made his diffidence appear genuine.
“Aside from the fact that Billy is my cousin—” Rio shook her head. “He’s getting married soon.”
Not that marriage was an ironclad remedy against infidelity, but Eddie didn’t see Rio Laraquette as the type to settle for the role of mistress. “Billy,” Eddie said, and leaned back, relaxing. “He’s your cousin?” It was time to turn the conversation on its side. “By blood?” He let the inquiry hold all the innuendo and insinuation she was bound to imagine.
“Yeah.” She turned toward him, and, as if her legs had drawn too close, she scooted back, keeping her distance. “My biological mother and Billy’s father are—were siblings.”
“At least you can trust family,” he said with such conviction she’d never know he was feigning hypocrisy.
She snorted and showered him with brief hostility. “Well, trust and family don’t mix well where I come from.”
Mine either. Eddie stopped the words from spilling past his thoughts. He was feeling better now, and he wasn’t about to let this turn into a wasted opportunity. “Your trust is better saved for coworkers?” He’d learn, one way or another, where her alliances lay.
She cut her eyes toward him, her face skewing into a scowl.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Well...” She sunk back against the couch. “I have trust issues.”
“Trust issues?” he asked, leaning toward her.
“Thanks to dear ole’ Mom,” she said, her voice edged with irritation.
Eddie’s eyebrows lifted and he left them there until they’d crinkled into a frown. “You and your mother don’t get along?”
“That’s putting it mildly.” If that wasn’t so sad, it might be funny.
“How about your dad?”
Rio’s mood turned bittersweet. “Daddy...” Oh, where to begin. “Daddy means well.” Too bad he wasn’t very good at it. He had no trouble showering Rio with money and gifts, when all she really wanted was love.
“He doesn't like that you’re a cop?”
“He’s not crazy about the idea,” she said, “but he’s not completely against it, either.”
“A little protective, huh?”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Unwanted emotions lingering over from her childhood began to stir and she paused, giving them a mental smack-down. “Seems lately that he’s been trying to make up for my childhood, so he tries to make everything perfect in my life.” Everything materialistic, anyway.
“Can he do that?”
Which one? Reconcile her childhood or compensate accordingly now? She didn’t care to talk about either, but then this look of understanding moved across his eyes. His compelling gaze persuaded Rio to share
some of her secrets.
“Well, it’s kind of hard to make up for not one but two dysfunctional mothers.”
“Two?” his inquiry nipped at her.
Well, that’s just great. Why had Rio gone and opened that door? “Yep.” She raised two fingers, one at a time. “Count ‘em. Two.”
His dark eyes showed his curiosity. When he shook his head, she felt a sense of regret. He was going to ask questions. Questions she’d rather not answer.
“Maybe it’s the meds, but...help me to understand how you came by two mothers?”
“Well,” she said, using her fingers as visual aids, “wife number one, bio mommy, split when I was a baby.” Rio had no idea why she was telling this to a virtual stranger, yet she continued on. “Wife number two, the only mother I’ve ever known, couldn’t stand me.” She attempted a laugh, but all she got was a nervous cackle. “That, in a nutshell, is why I have issues. Both my mothers left me without so much as a hi, bye, kiss my ass or nothing.”
“Well, it’s their loss.” He closed his eyes and massaged his forehead.
She leaned toward him and touched his knee. “You doing okay?”
He opened his eyes and swathed her in a tender, ardent gaze. “You?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said, sinking back into her chair. “I learned to adapt a long time ago.”
“Me, too,” he said softly. “You know...” His words fell into a long, exhaustive sigh. “I’m just so tired. Maybe it’s the meds but I think I need to lie down.”
Rio sprang to her feet and pulled him up by the ankles, coaxing him to lie on the couch.
She grabbed an afghan off the back of a nearby chair and stalled long enough to let her gaze travel over and enjoy the look of his tall, athletic physique before she covered him. His presence gave her comfort.
A sudden chill swept over her arms. She crossed them and strolled toward the wall of windows overlooking the Strip. Millions of lights twinkled against the twilight as the city awakened, right along with her carnal desires. Desires she’d thought she’d locked up tight—until Eddie LaCall came to town.
* * *
Sunlight, bright and evasive, pried Eddie from his slumber. Instantly, he knew he was on Rio’s couch. Vague recollections of passing out last night pierced his ego.
Vegas, Baby Page 4
