Читать книгу Best Man for the Job - Meredith Fletcher - Страница 11

“Hey.” The guy backpedaled into the room just ahead of Callan. “Callan Storm, right? Jenny’s brother?”

“Yeah.” Callan surveyed the room and crossed to the bed where Eryn’s things lay.

Eryn walked to the bed, opened her overnight bag, got her purse out and checked her cell. The images she’d sent from Toby’s phone had come through perfectly.

“Has hotel security been in here?” Callan focused on the guy in the room.

“No.” Guilt stained the man’s features.

“What are you doing here?”

Eryn smiled at that. Evidently suspicion was hardwired into Callan’s psyche, but the guy was tripping her radar as well.

The man looked guilty. “Had to get rid of something.” He shrugged nervously. “Wasn’t anything big, but I didn’t want to take the chance. Didn’t want to get busted by the cops.”

Eryn shook her head. Apparently not all of Daniel Steadman’s acquaintances were squeaky clean. That knowledge made her wonder about Daniel Steadman and Callan’s sister. She had to wonder just how wild they were and if an alternative lifestyle directly impacted what had happened tonight.

Silently, she chastised herself. She had no right to judge, and the guys had shot up the parking garage and killed an innocent bystander without flinching. Not all of her acquaintances were squeaky clean, either. And her past as an exotic dancer, no matter how short, wouldn’t have cut it with her hometown in Fallon even as close as it was to Las Vegas. Her father was a carpenter and her mother was a schoolteacher. She hadn’t hidden her job from them and it had caused some stress. But she was their only child and forgiveness always came.

No, the trouble Daniel Steadman was currently in had to be way past anything he’d expected.

She went through her clothing, thankful the outfit she came in was practical enough. Coffee-bean-colored boot-cut stretch pants she could move in, a chestnut-colored three-quarter sleeve draped surplice shirt and brown Rockport Addison short boots she’d intended to wear home after the job. The clothes would blend with the Strip night crowd and the boots were sturdy enough to hold up under duress.

Callan switched his gaze to her. “I need those pictures.”

“I’m going with you.” Eryn didn’t relish spending the evening getting grilled by police officers. With as many people as there were involved with the kidnapping, investigators would waste hours just processing the attendees. Callan was right about that.

And family was important. Even though Callan’s sister wasn’t in direct danger, Jenny Storm was going to be hurt if something happened to her fiancé. Eryn didn’t want that to happen for any of them. One of the main reasons she’d gotten involved in security work was to protect people. She still had nightmares about Megan’s death. Someone should have helped her, but no one had.

Besides, whatever information they got from the images of the van might play out in minutes. Furthermore, if she could get away clean, without anyone from CS Sec finding out about her moonlighting for Renee, Eryn preferred that. Toby had never gotten her real name, and Renee took jobs through a booking service that protected the names of the performers.

The investigators might not even try to find out who the woman in the cake had been—unless they jumped onto the same wrong assumption Callan had. Eryn took a deep breath and told herself that the kidnapping would be resolved by then. The police—the FBI—would stop looking. All she had to do was get out of the building and she’d be clear.

Callan scowled. “You’re not going with me.”

“Fine. You’re going with me.” Before he could stop her, Eryn stepped into the bathroom, locked the door and waited to see if Callan would tear the door off the hinges. She heard him pace outside for a moment, maybe growl a little, but he stayed on the other side of the door.

Eryn undressed and dressed quickly. She dropped the skimpy attire into her purse, washed the exotic makeup from her face, and expertly glossed her lips and worked magic with a concealer. She moussed her collar-length hair and let it fall straight and professional, getting rid of the body she’d worked hard to infuse it with earlier. When she checked her reflection in the mirror, she was happy to see that a much different person looked back at her. She felt certain she could fade into the background of the hotel and leave without incident.

But there was one other stop she needed to make if she intended to follow through on her impromptu investigation. Callan wouldn’t like it. She didn’t, either, because it would leave her more exposed than ever.

When she opened the door, Callan spun on her. His irritation and stern features froze for just a moment, then he looked surprised.

The other man in the room wasn’t so silent. “Wow. You look different.”

Eryn didn’t respond. She deleted the images she’d taken from the memory card, wiped the phone clean of her fingerprints and Callan’s with a tissue, then handed Toby’s cell to man. “Get this to Toby. Tell him his sister called and she’s worried.”

“Sierra? Sure.” The man nodded, still not taking his eyes from Eryn. “You know, you look even hotter now.”

Terrific. She checked her phone again, making sure she had the images she’d sent from Toby’s phone. Then she grabbed her travel bag and makeup kit from the bed.

Callan blocked the doorway. “Two things. You’re not going with me. And I need those pictures.”

She returned his glare with one of her own. “Two things. You try to get out of here without me and I blow the whistle to the hotel security.” She took a breath, testing her resolve and discovering—without surprise—that she still couldn’t shake it. “I also think you’re right about Daniel Steadman’s kidnapping being an inside job. Which means I’m going to try to help you.”

“I don’t need you tagging along.”

“If I let you walk away, that makes me responsible.”

“For what?”

“For anything stupid that you do.” She eyed him levelly. “That’s the deal, soldier. Take it or leave it.”

Callan growled in the back of his throat and the sound thrilled through Eryn in ways she’d never experienced. She put the reaction down to adrenaline, to nearly dying, at being happy to still be alive. And then she wondered why she was in such a hurry to continue hanging around Callan Storm when bad things were sure to happen. At the very least her private security license was on the line, and she’d worked hard to get it.

She held her gaze steady, not showing any of her inner turmoil. “Clock’s ticking.”

“Fine.” From Callan’s abrasive tone, the answer was anything but fine. He reached out for her travel bag. She pulled it away, but he caught it and took hold. “If you’re carrying both bags while I’m walking around empty-handed, that’s going to draw attention.”

Reluctantly, but knowing that what he said was true, Eryn let him have the bag. She wasn’t happy about any concession she made toward him.

“Let’s go.” He opened the door and they went into the hallway.

As he followed the woman down the stairwell, Callan cursed to himself. He couldn’t believe she’d insisted on coming along. She had no vested interest in anything that was taking place, despite her argument that she would somehow be held “responsible.”

His lack of cell phone experience was a drawback. He’d have to remedy that at his first opportunity, but it wasn’t likely to be tonight. She turned and headed down the hallway toward his room. He studied her as he matched her determined stride. So what was her angle? Everybody had one, and they tended to be selfish.

He gave himself a mental shake. Roll with it. For the moment you need her. She has intel that you need. Once you get it, you can flush her and drop her like a rock.

The past few years, his missions had been in Afghanistan and Africa, in back areas that were barely listed on the map. Cell phones would have drawn enemy attention at once. He’d made do with human intelligence after the parameters of the missions had been drawn, operating independently behind enemy lines with a handful of people that might or might not betray him. He was currently functioning out of his depth, in foreign terrain, and he knew it.

He used his keycard on the door to his room and went inside. Behind him, the woman reached for the light. He caught her hand and stopped her.

“Leave the light off.”

Through her hand, he felt her body go tense. It took him a moment to remember to release her. Touching her sent an electrical current through him that he would have sworn he’d never before experienced. He didn’t know what it was about the woman that affected him so much, but he disliked it. She infuriated him on so many levels. Yet when he touched her, he seemed to get brain-locked.

Stupid. Pay attention. You need to help Daniel.

Callan turned away from her, grateful that the room was dark so she couldn’t see his face, because he didn’t know what she might see there. “Security may check to see if I’m here. If they see a light, they’ll know I’m around.”

“Okay.” She didn’t sound sure of herself. The darkness in the room was nearly complete except for the neon glow from the Strip filtering around the heavy drapes.

Reaching into his pocket, Callan took out the small Mini Maglite he usually carried. A professional soldier who habitually risked his life never went anywhere without light, a way of making fire and a knife. Antitank weaponry and an escape helicopter were much harder to pack. He had all of those basic things, though the Swiss Tinker blade he carried wouldn’t count much as armament facing automatic weapons.

He switched the light on and directed the white light against the ceiling. He dialed the wattage down to a glow that barely reflected against the overhead tiles and only just lifted their silhouettes from the darkness.

“Here.” He handed the light to the woman. “Give me a minute to get dressed.” Before she could respond, he turned and crossed to the small closet.

He flung the door open, took out a pair of khaki cargo pants, a burgundy pullover and a pair of GORE-TEX hiking boots he’d broken in. He left the rest of the clothes hanging. The room was rented for two more days—for the wedding tomorrow night and one more day. He wasn’t going to need anything else from there until he got Daniel back to Jenny.

He entered the bathroom and changed out of his clothing.

At first Eryn thought Callan had left the bathroom door ajar by mistake. Then, curious, she’d peered through the opening and realized she could see the mirror. And in the mirror, she saw his reflection as he stood behind the door and changed clothing. She also realized then that he’d left the door open on purpose. He’d given her the Mini Maglite for the same reason.

Just as she could see him, he could see her. He was watching her, making certain she didn’t leave. His slate-gray eyes looked at her intently. Her image was clearer due to the flashlight, but there was still enough illumination to see him.

That made Eryn angrier. She didn’t know where he thought she would go. And he’d practically been shoving her out the door. If she didn’t have the images he wanted, she wouldn’t be there now. She thought about extinguishing the light out of spite, just to see if she could get a reaction out of him.

But turning the flashlight off would have plunged the bathroom into darkness. He’d still know if she left when the door opened. She told herself that keeping the light on was just to keep the peace, but she knew she liked the way the soft glow played over his body.

She couldn’t see much of him, but it was enough to set her heart racing a little. The response bothered her, especially given everything that was currently going on.

Callan was lean, but his upper body packed muscle. The light played over his broad shoulders, deep chest and biceps as they bunched when he moved. There were scars, too, faded things that she couldn’t quite make out. His white boxer briefs stood out against the bronze skin. He was dark all over, like he lived out in the elements. The coloration wasn’t the result of a tanning booth. Wherever Callan was from, he was exposed a lot.

He pulled his pants on, covering his near nakedness, and Eryn had to take a breath. Her face felt hot, but she knew she wasn’t embarrassed. Then she realized she was, over her reaction, though, not because she’d seen him nearly stripped. She’d worked protection for female clients at Chippendales shows, had seen a lot more skin under definite provocative circumstances, and had never felt the same way.

She gritted her teeth and turned away from Callan Storm. She continued holding the flashlight. “I thought you were in a hurry.” Even though she stared at the wall in front of her, she felt his eyes on her and kept imagining that rock-hard body.

He didn’t reply. Just before she called out again, he plucked the Mini Maglite from her hand.

“Let’s go.” His warm breath ghosted against the back of her neck and raised goose bumps that tightened her scalp.

When she turned, he’d already moved on. He reached into the closet once more and took out a brown bomber jacket. By the time he reached the door, he’d already shrugged into it and picked up her travel bag.

He nodded to the bed. “Don’t forget your makeup case.”

Eryn took a step back to the bed and tried to act as if she hadn’t forgotten about the case. She had, though, and that irritated her. She was good at keeping up with things, with noticing details. Her job required an attention to detail.

She stepped through the open door and resisted the impulse to look down the hall at the investigation still going on. “Where are we going?”

“Out of the hotel.”

“Then what?”

“Then we see if your images help us find a direction. For the moment we need to evade the police dragnet. Take the elevator.”

For a moment Eryn started to ask why, then she realized that the police would still be watching the stairwells. Going that way would have been suspicious. She stepped into the elevator alcove.

Luck was with them and they caught one of the cages just as the doors opened. Two couples in evening wear and a boy in his teens playing a portable game system stood inside.

The button for the main floor was already pressed. Eryn watched the levels ping as they dropped.

One of the men spoke up. “Do you know what the fire alarm was about?”

Eryn glanced at the mirrored surface of the elevator door. Callan didn’t speak. She answered for them. “There’s a party on our floor.”

“That’s where the police and the fire departments seemed intent on gathering. I presume there’s nothing amiss.”

“There’s no fire.”

The elevator dinged again when they arrived at the second floor. The doors opened to a group of people standing in the alcove. One of the men in the group waved them off. “We’ll take the next one.”

On the first floor, the doors opened again. Eryn led the way out, surprised to see the crowd that filled the foyer. Evidently not only the guests staying the night had come down from the towers, but the casino had temporarily lost some of its patrons as well. The security people were out in force.

“Let’s go.” Callan took the lead and headed for the side entrance.

“Wait.” Eryn turned away from him and headed back toward the concierge.

The man was absent from his post, but she spied him talking to some of the guests, letting them know that the fire scare had been a false alarm. Nobody was talking much about the shootout in the parking garage. Apparently that news hadn’t spread yet.

Eryn stopped at the concierge desk and leafed through the pamphlets in the shelves. A map of the hotel and casino lay in the mix. She pulled it out and consulted it briefly as Callan caught up with her. He was scowling again.

“What are you doing?” He loomed at her side.

“Trying to appear inconspicuous. How’s that working for you?”

“We need to get out of here.”

“We also need more information if we’re going to try to find out who took your future brother-in-law.” Eryn located the main desk and headed for the hallway just to the left of it.

“Where are you going?”

“The security office.” She avoided Callan’s grip, sidestepping and putting a chair between them at the last minute.

Callan quick-stepped and caught up with her. His big hand wrapped around her forearm but he didn’t try to stop her. “Why?”

“Because they’ll have video footage of everything that happened. I’m going to try to get a copy of it.”

“You think you can do that?”

“I know I won’t get a copy if I don’t try.”

Callan’s grip fell away and he paced her through the crowded area. He didn’t ask her any more questions.

As they passed the check-in area, Eryn gazed at the television in the corner of the room. A small crowd had gathered there to watch the breaking news on the local channels. Video footage of the hotel filled the screen while the neatly groomed male anchor occupied a corner and talked calmly. Script ran across the bottom of the screen.

Fire alarm caused near panic at th—

When Callan caught her arm and tugged, Eryn whipped her head around and just managed to avoid colliding with a heavyset man carrying a poodle. She excused herself but hurried past him into the next hallway. She turned left at the intersection and stopped in front of a metal door—Security/Authorized Personnel Only.

Eryn rang the buzzer and looked up at the fish-eye camera lens mounted above the door.

“Can I help you?” The voice was male, well modulated and slightly anxious.

Eryn took her agency ID from her purse and held it up to the camera. “Can you see this?”

The camera lens flickered. “Sure.”

“I need a favor. Professional courtesy.”

“We’re on lockdown.”

“I know. That’s why I need the favor. My partner and I were watching over a principle. We lost him in the excitement.”

“Not my problem, Ms. McAdams.”

“The principle is a high roller. Help me out and I can get you comped at the casino I’m working for. I can get your supervisor comped, too.”

For a moment there was no response. “This guy that big?”

“Big.” Eryn lied effortlessly. In Vegas everything spun around the casinos and the big money they pulled in. Whales—high rollers that spent a lot at the tables and in the hotels—were an important part of that business. The money trickled through the city, spun through the Strip’s veins like a junkie’s favorite hit. The story was easily believable. It had happened before.

“I’m not supposed to let anyone in.”

“Guy has a jones. If I let him get away without returning him to the hotel, I’m going to lose my job.”

Callan stood at her side without saying a word. For a moment Eryn thought she was just going to end up embarrassing herself. She’d been with other security agents who’d used the same bribes to get information on people they were supposed to be keeping up with. Just as she was getting ready to give up, the speaker crackled again.

“Get in, find your guy, then get back out.”

“Definitely.”

The electronic locking mechanism cycled, thumping and clicking as it opened. Finally, it buzzed. “Come ahead.”

Eryn pushed the door in and followed it.