Jack of Hearts

by Diane Capri

  Rossi waited, heavy breathing the only response Siegfried might have heard on his end.

  “Sir, it’s about your Rhizanthella gardneri,” Siegfried’s voice quivered as if he was too afraid to speak.

  Ella. Rossi’s breath caught. His prized Western Underground Orchid was in trouble. Siegfried would not have disturbed him for a minor disaster.

  The gardener had captured Rossi’s full attention.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

  “You’ll want to see for yourself,” Siegfried stammered as if he was terrified of Rossi’s reaction. “Can you come?”

  “On my way.” Rossi groused, his scowl deepening as he replaced the receiver.

  He carefully inserted a bookmark where his finger had been and laid the rare volume aside before hauling himself out of the recliner.

  Without stopping to change into gardening shoes, he waddled toward the private elevator at his most rapid pace and pushed the call button.

  He opened the drawer of the side table and palmed his .22. He pushed his right hand, still holding the pistol, into the pocket of his robe and stepped into the elevator car for the short ride to his rooftop greenhouse.

  One floor up, the doors slid silently apart and Rossi stepped into the cool night air. He seldom ventured here after dark, but the rooftop was as familiar as his own bedroom. He could have navigated it blindfolded, even without tonight’s full moon and cloudless sky.

  The exit from the elevator lobby opened facing the north side of the roof. Rossi waddled to the exit and turned right.

  CHAPTER 40

  Wednesday, May 18

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  8:30 p.m.

  The Snake Eyes was a relatively small hotel by Las Vegas standards. Only twenty-one stories high, the hotel contained fewer than 1,200 rooms.

  The building’s design tapered toward the top. Which meant the casino had 50,000 square feet of total gaming space, but the roof only totaled 10,000 square feet.

  The rooftop was intended for air handling and other necessary equipment. Only the east side was otherwise usable. Which was where Rossi had installed his greenhouse.

  He had considered creating a rooftop bar because the Snake Eyes offered a spectacular observation point for the strip and the night sky. Another venue for tourists to spend money was always a good idea, as his consigliere had reminded him.

  He’d rejected the plan because he didn’t want people up here. Rossi wanted to keep the view and the spacious feeling of the open air all to himself. Sometimes he came here simply to enjoy the wide-open sky above Nevada.

  His decorator had created a seating area between the elevator shafts and the greenhouse on the east roof where Rossi could enjoy the views. The glorious space was exactly what he wanted.

  Siegfried had turned the lights on inside the greenhouse. It looked like an enchanted forest under glass across the roof.

  Rossi waddled in that direction. His heavy footfalls were muffled by soft leather soles on the artificial turf that covered the concrete.

  He pulled the glass door open and stepped inside his climate-controlled greenhouse.

  Siegfried was in the back corner, hunched over the space dedicated to Rossi’s most precious purple orchid.

  Rossi made his way to the back, passing gardening tools, bags of soil, hanging boxes, metal rods with pointed ends that Siegfried used for stakes, and so on.

  As Rossi approached, Siegfried half-turned to face his boss, chewing his lip, tears welling in his eyes, a wretched expression distorting his features.

  He stood aside with an open palm, directing Rossi’s gaze to what had been the orchid’s carefully prepared habitat.

  Rossi gasped and stared in horror, unable to fathom the jumbled mess on the floor.

  The specially designed table had been ripped apart and smashed to splinters. Soil and pottery shards were strewn atop the destroyed wood. Withered petals of the fragile orchid, torn to shreds, curled in death amid the chaos.

  On top of the destruction of his office and his boxing, and the dead bodies found in the desert, this disaster simply a bridge too far.

  Slow boiling rage began low in Rossi’s belly the moment he’d seen the destroyed habitat. Heat rose up through his chest, into his neck, and flooded his face with hot, blotchy fury.

  “What the hell happened!” he yelled at full volume, spewing spittle from his fleshy lips, blowing steam from his nostrils like a charging bull.

  Siegfried shook his lowered head as the tears spilled onto his cheeks. “I-I d-d-on’t know. I-I c-came up to check on her and saw this.”

  “Idiot! Didn’t you lock up before you left?” Rossi demanded.

  “I did, yes. I know for sure,” Siegfried nodded rapidly. “Because I-I had to unlock the door before I could access the greenhouse when I came back after dinner.”

  “Then how? How did someone get in here and do this? How, Siegfried?” Rossi angrily insisted. He gripped the pistol in his pocket. “You’re the only one with the key. You’re the only one who knew exactly which of my orchids was the most precious to me.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know,” Siegfried wailed, shaking his head while grabbing his face with both hands.

  Rossi’s rage became cold-hearted certainty. “Why did you do this?”

  He stared at Siegfried for a few moments more, waiting for an answer that made sense. The man offered nothing.

  Rossi nodded. Then he lifted his hand from his pocket, pointed the .22 directly at Siegfried’s head, and from two feet away fired one shot, directly between his eyes.

  Siegfried’s eyes opened to the size of saucers just before the hit. Then he crumpled to the floor on top of the pile of trash that just this morning had been Elle, the rarest, most extravagant, and beautiful orchid in Rossi’s world.

  Rossi moved closer and put a second bullet in Siegfried’s left temple. Just because.

  Seeing Siegfried dead on the floor didn’t make Rossi feel better, so he kicked the body a few times for good measure.

  Out of breath, still angry, Rossi stood over the ruined habitat for what seemed like a good long time.

  After a suitable period of mourning for Ella, he plunged the gun into the pocket of his robe and turned to leave the greenhouse.

  Which was the moment he saw two things he hadn’t noticed before.

  The first was an open backpack on the floor, three feet from Siegfried’s body.

  The open zipper revealed a glowing digital clock.

  Rossi’s imagination supplied the ticking that thundered in his head.

  A thin bead of sweat appeared above his upper lip.

  He recognized the backpack and its contents.

  An improvised explosive device.

  A bomb.

  He knew exactly how the IED was constructed and, correctly deployed, the significant damage it would do.

  Rossi widened his eyes and quickened his step, hurrying away.

  If that bomb exploded inside the enclosed greenhouse before he escaped—he didn’t want to go there, even in his head.

  He had to get out of here. Off the roof. Away from the bomb.

  As fast as possible.

  He lifted his gaze and looked toward the greenhouse door.

  The exit was blocked by a man standing calmly, feet apart, hands clasped in front.

  Holding a cell phone.

  Which could be used to trigger the bomb’s detonation device.

  Or not.

  “Good evening, Mr. Rossi,” Alan Chen said.

  “You did this?” Rossi asked, the anger in his gut flashing back to life as he stopped, dead still.

  “Only one of your orchids and Siegfried are gone. Two things you cared about deeply. Perhaps they were as precious to you as my brothers were to me.” Chen nodded once, raising the cell phone to be sure Rossi recognized its importance. “It is within your power to save the others. Where are my sisters? I know you kidnapped them and are holding them hostage. Tell me where.”

 
Rossi scowled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Ying and Gamon Chen. You call them Jade and GiGi,” Chen replied coldly as if Rossi’s confusion were genuine when he fully believed Rossi was well aware. “Release them to me and I will allow you and your remaining orchids to live.”

  “If you detonate that bomb, you’ll die here with me, Chen. Who will save your sisters then?” Rossi demanded, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared as he inhaled and exhaled pure animal rage.

  “This cell phone will activate a timed explosion. I will leave you here. I will find my sisters, whether you help me or not.” Chen shook his head and smirked. “When the bomb detonates, you’ll die alone.”

  Rossi glared and said nothing.

  “Last chance, Rossi. Where are they?” Chen asked, raising the cell phone to demonstrate.

  Rossi pushed his lips in and out, hands still stuffed into his pockets, holding the pistol, vibrating with anger.

  Chen waited a full ten seconds.

  “Goodbye, Rossi.” Chen pressed the redial button to trigger a delayed detonation.

  The moment after Chen triggered the device, Rossi pulled the pistol from his pocket, aimed at Chen’s center mass, and fired.

  Chen immediately grabbed his belly after the first shot, pivoted to open the door, and moved out of the greenhouse.

  Rossi fired two more shots.

  CHAPTER 41

  Wednesday, May 18

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  8:45 p.m.

  Kim had wandered around the Snake Eyes Casino, hoping to find Rossi on the floor where there were plenty of people around. No luck. Next, she’d tried his office but found it to be closed due to some kind of renovation. Workers had stripped the rooms down to the studs and replaced the drywall and carpets. Rossi was nowhere to be found.

  Which meant there were only two more places to look. His penthouse. Or the roof, where she knew he tended orchids. She decided to try the roof first.

  Kim elbowed her way through the milling casino crowds toward the hotel elevators. The place was busy for a Wednesday night. She had to wait a while for the elevator to arrive and the first one was too full.

  Finally, she was able to enter the next one, which seemed to stop on every floor until the car reached its final destination. The nineteenth floor was last. Kim stepped out behind the couple and turned in the opposite direction.

  She waited around the corner, staying out of sight until the couple entered their room and closed the door.

  With the corridor empty, Kim hustled back to the elevator lobby. Next to the two hotel elevator cars was a heavy steel door. The doorknob wouldn’t turn, but when she pushed against it, the door swung open. Someone had jammed the locking mechanism.

  She slipped into the interior elevator lobby and closed the door silently behind her.

  Normally used by maintenance workers and hotel staff, the interior space was painted beige. The floor was bare concrete. Nothing else occupied the space except the entrance to the emergency stairs and two elevator doors.

  Kim tried the stairwell first. The stairs led down only. Oddly, there were no emergency stairs here leading to the roof. Which had to be a violation of the fire code.

  Both of the elevator doors required a key to unlock the call buttons. She punched the call buttons anyway. One door remained securely locked.

  The second door slid open. The last person must have forgotten to relock it. Which would have infuriated Rossi. It was the kind of mistake Rossi would consider a terminal offense.

  Kim stepped inside and punched the sole button, labeled “roof.”

  As the elevator car lumbered upward, she heard the unmistakable sound of two gunshots fired.

  “What the hell?”

  She pulled her weapon and listened for more gunfire as the elevator car bounced to a stop. She didn’t hear more shots, which could mean almost anything. She could be walking into an active shooter situation.

  Burke should be with her. The whole point of having a partner was that two sets of eyes, ears, and weapons were always better than one.

  But he wasn’t here.

  She could call for backup. She shook her head quickly. For the moment, she was better off alone.

  Solo-officer response tactics had proved overwhelmingly more effective against active shooters than waiting for additional law enforcement teams to arrive. Mainly because waiting gave the shooter time to kill others.

  Which didn’t lower the danger level to that first officer at all.

  Yet she knew she was playing beat the clock. Rapid action by a solo officer was more likely to succeed simply because she was here already and they weren’t.

  She breathed deeply to steady herself.

  The elevator doors opened and Kim stepped onto the elevator lobby on the roof of the Snake Eyes Casino.

  She chose the north exit. She stood with her back to the wall and turtled her head out to look left and right.

  The roof was carpeted in artificial turf and illuminated only by the moon.

  Kim turned left and exited onto the west side of the building where HVAC and other equipment provided cover.

  She heard no further shots. No indication of other people around, either.

  Kim stayed in the shadows, crouching low, and moved carefully around the corner of the elevator shaft enclosure to the south side.

  Again, she saw and heard no one nearby. No further gunshots sounded.

  Where was the shooter?

  The elevator lobby was the only exit from the roof.

  Twenty-one stories was way too far to jump to the ground and survive.

  Which meant there were only three alternatives.

  Had the shots been fired from a gun while the shooter was on the roof of the Snake Eyes? Or did they come from somewhere else?

  Gunfire could be heard, she knew, from a mile away, depending on the weapon.

  Briefly, she closed her eyes and replayed the sound of the two gunshots in her mind, attempting to fix the shooter’s location now that she had her bearings.

  Kim nodded. What she’d heard had definitely been close enough to the elevator. Given the noise level, she’d placed him somewhere on the roof of this building rather than another building nearby or down on the street.

  Echoes, wind, weather. All of these could also confuse the shooter’s location.

  She shook her head, gave up, and opened her eyes. Given all the variables, she couldn’t pinpoint his position. Not from the sound of the gunshots alone.

  He could have committed suicide with the second shot or by jumping afterward. Or he was still there.

  Either way, to confirm, she’d need to get eyes on the shooter.

  When she moved around the corner of the elevator shaft to the east side of the roof, she saw something strange. She blinked to reset her vision and then looked again to confirm.

  Yep. She’d been right the first time. Occupying much of the northeast side of the roof was a super-sized greenhouse.

  Rectangular shape. As big as a roomy three-car garage. At least thirty-six-feet-wide and twenty-five-feet long. Brightly lit from the inside as if a party was going on or something.

  She shook her head. What a crazy-ass location for a house made of glass.

  The beating sun would superheat the interior every day of the year. The climate-control expense alone would exceed her annual salary.

  A rooftop greenhouse in Las Vegas could only be a rich man’s folly.

  Roberto Rossi was a very rich man. He owned the Snake Eyes. His private apartment was one floor below. And he famously collected and cultivated orchids.

  Given the open roof and the somewhat muffled sounds she’d heard, it was possible, but not certain, that the shooter was inside the greenhouse.

  Was it Rossi? Or one of his enemies?

  She had a clear view. Between her position and the greenhouse was mostly open space.

  But the interior of the illuminated greenhouse was a jumble of plants and plant hangers and flat surfaces upon
which more plants rested. All of which blocked her view.

  From here, she couldn’t see anyone inside the greenhouse.

  Nor did she know what equipment he had.

  Safer to assume that his weapon was superior to hers.

  Kim was FBI. She’d had some of the most sophisticated tactical training in the world. In theory, she possessed stronger awareness, preparation, training, tactics, and skill than the shooter. She hoped.

  Otherwise, if his equipment was superior to hers, her duty weapon wouldn’t be sufficient to defeat him.

  CHAPTER 42

  Wednesday, May 18

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  9:05 p.m.

  Maintaining her composure, Kim focused on what was important now. She must not become fatally distracted by the known physiological changes she was already experiencing and would only get worse.

  Kim regulated her breathing and slowed her heart rate.

  She focused on the greenhouse, realizing she might be wrong. He might not be inside at all.

  Tunnel vision could lead her to misjudge distances and rob her of the ability to apprehend peripheral activity.

  Kim needed to find him before he fired his weapon again.

  She needed to leave the shadows and run across the open roof.

  Kim twisted her neck to look around.

  The shooter could be anywhere. If she ran into the open space where she had no cover, he could easily pick her off from a well-hidden sniper’s nest.

  The distance to the greenhouse was too far to crawl on her belly. And he’d probably see her if she tried.

  These situations were fluid and conditions could change rapidly.

  Leaving was not an option. She inhaled another deep breath and held it for a count of three.

  She had to make a choice.

  Stay here and wait for backup.

  Attempt to draw the shooter outside where she’d have a clear shot.

  Or charge the shooter to potentially save lives before more officers could reach the rooftop.

  Nonsensically, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “What would Reacher do?”