Chapter Eleven
Even as the words left her mouth she silently cursed, knowing it could and should have been phrased better. But she was exhausted, and the stress of seeing the broken body and worrying about Vincent had compromised her senses.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
She blundered on. “What I mean is I’d like you to stay with me until Vincent gets back. Tomorrow, I’ve got a site inspection, something I can’t delay.” Ally forced the words past the lump in her throat. “Putting it off might bring up a red flag, suggest something’s out of sorts. It’ll work in with the food poisoning scenario we’ve been pushing.”
She looked at Edgar. “I can tell you don’t want to spend your time hanging around with me. You’d rather keep hunting for Vincent.”
Edgar rolled his shoulders back. “I would. It’s my fault he slipped away, and if he’s gone and gotten himself hurt or worse…” He shook his head. “I need to be out there.”
Ally nodded and turned to Trey again. “But if you’ve got something back at the club demanding your attention…”
“Okay.”
The quick response caught her off-guard. “What?”
“Edgar here can brief me on enough basics to stand by your side like I did at the union meeting and the hospital. I’ll be your partner until this gets resolved.”
“That was fast.”
Trey locked eyes with her. “I take care of what’s important to me. Right now, that’s you.”
The intensity of the simple statement was enough to take her breath away, her fingers tightening on his arm as she stared at him. Lightening flashed in his gaze, desire shooting through her heart and shocking her into silence.
Snap out of it, girl, she told herself. You’re emotionally on edge. Doesn’t mean anything more than what he said. Just a job, nothing more.
She needed to get away from him right now, before she said or did something to embarrass herself any further. A little space to compose herself, to reset and reboot before getting back to work.
Ally got up from the couch and covered her mouth, hiding the yawn. “I’m sorry, I need a few hours downtime before the meeting.” She studied her watch. “It’s set up for one o’clock this afternoon.” She scrubbed her eyes. “I’m not sure I can get any sleep, but I can at least rest, get my mind back on track.”
Edgar nodded. “You both head in and grab some sleep. I’ll make sure no one bothers either of you until ten or so—that will give you time to eat a decent meal and pull it together.” He gave Ally a hug. “I’m so glad it wasn’t Vincent.”
“Me, too.” She patted his arm. “Thanks for all your help.”
Edgar escorted her to the door to her suite, nodding as she ran down a list of people who she should be woken up for. Finally, he laughed and pushed her through to the other side, closing the door.
She looked around the empty room, her mind catching up with recent events. The shock from the photographs had hit home, slicing through her protective armor.
Vincent could be dead. But he wasn’t, and the relief was exhausting.
But that other man…
She pressed past the nausea in her stomach and stripped down, sliding between the cool, clean sheets with a sigh.
She heard voices murmuring outside her door. Trey and Edgar were talking about something, likely to do with her. It was tempting to go and see what she could hear, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the strength, the comfort and emotion in their tones helped her feel safe.
Loved.
She fell asleep, feeling more at peace than she had since her plane had landed in Las Vegas.
…
Trey eyed Edgar as the man settled in a chair opposite him, hands on his knees. His body language told Trey the ex-Marine wanted to talk, and not about the weather.
“I’m glad it wasn’t Vincent.” Trey tilted his head to one side. “We’re good, right?”
“Always.” Edgar nodded. “Until you upset her, and then we won’t be.” He raised one eyebrow. “Would have had this talk with you before, but didn’t know you’d be around for so long.” He cleared his throat. “About Ally asking you to stay. You know there’s a secondary reason for this, whether she knows it herself or not.”
Trey eyed him. “There is?”
“She needs someone to stand beside her, a neutral party. There are plenty of people inside the company who like Vincent because he gives them what they want. She doesn’t need them whispering behind her back, doubting her skills. Or worse, angling to make themselves look good no matter what the outcome.” He pointed at Trey. “You’re here for her alone, not to suck up for a promotion or sabotage the situation to make yourself look good. Don’t underestimate how important you are. And don’t screw it up. Miss Ally’s a solid woman, even if her brother’s a flaming twit.”
His tone left no room for negotiation, and Trey wasn’t in the mood to try.
“Noted.” Trey rose and headed for his bedroom. “See you in a few hours.”
…
He lay in bed, forcing himself to rest. He wasn’t going to call Dylan until the sun came up—there was no use in everyone staying up all night.
The minute the sun peeked over the horizon, though, Trey dialed the familiar number. Dylan picked up on the first ring. “Jessie filled me in. Sorry for the false alarm.”
“She made the right call. Better Ally find out as soon as possible—easier than waiting for some cop to make the connection and show up at the door to drag her to Henderson. This was a lot better.” It took a few minutes to brief Dylan on recent events.
“It’s her call. If that works for you, run with it.” Dylan grunted. “Jessie told me Ally offered to pay for the funeral if and when our John Doe from Henderson is identified. Nice of her to do that, given the situation. Keep me updated, and be careful. The business world can be as nasty as a battle zone.”
“I hear you. Talk to you later.” Trey hung up and looked at the computer screen. He’d automatically booted up his laptop while talking to Dylan and was now getting messages across the board—most of them simple notes about day-to-day operations for the Devil’s Playground. But there was more, something he’d been waiting for.
His search program had come up with results now that he had the name Vincent Sheldon.
Vincent Sheldon.
He rolled the name around in his mouth, trying it on for size.
You should call.
He paused, remembering the grieving parents in the graveyard staring at the cold granite headstone.
There’s nothing to tell them.
Yet.
A knock came at the door.
Edgar poked his head in. “Time to prepare. She’s chomping at the bit to leave—I think she needs the change of scenery.”
“I’ll be right out.” Trey forced himself to smile. “Let’s do this.”