Chapter Nine
“Yes, yes.” Ally pressed her palm against her forehead, trying to stave off the migraine threatening to manifest behind her right eye. “I’d forgotten. Tomorrow it is, bright and early.”
She hung up and stared at the laptop screen, trying to make sense of the letters and numbers.
A gentle knock came at the door.
“Come in,” Ally said.
Edgar pulled the door open, resting his hands on each side of the entrance. “I heard the phone ring.”
She eyed him, raising one brow. “Wasn’t him.”
The veteran didn’t let out a sigh or any other indication of his frustration. “Oh. Right then. With your permission, I’m going to go back out and see if I can pick up his trail. Grabbed a shower and a clean shirt, so I’m ready to go again.” He held up a hand, cutting off her reply. “Jessie’s out there, along with her other associates. I can’t stay in here and brood.” He hesitated. “So, who was on the phone?”
“The hospital, verifying tomorrow’s visit.” She gestured at the laptop. “The NICU tour and subsequent donation from Sheldon Construction.”
“Do you want to try and reschedule it?” Edgar asked.
“No.” She waved him off. “Easy public relations visit. I’m much better suited for it, anyway. Vincent would pout and appear bored all the way through.” She eyed him. “How does that work with your schedule?”
Edgar hesitated. “I’d much rather keep hunting for Vincent. But if you need me…”
“I can come with you.”
Ally turned to Trey, standing in the doorway behind Edgar.
His sleepy grin set her imagination afire. He stood there in only his jeans, barefoot and bare-chested.
Her heart skipped a beat, building a hundred scenarios around that smile.
She blinked herself awake and out of the dream.
Edgar looked over his shoulder at Trey then back at her. “That’d work. I’ll lay out some of Vincent’s clothing.”
“Hold that thought.” Trey smiled. “I’ve got some suits that’ll do the job. I’m going to drive home and grab them, along with my bathroom kit and some clean underwear.” The grin expanded. “I’m not a big fan of going commando.”
Ally swallowed hard, shoving back the naughty images in her head. She had to be overtired, exhausted from all the stress as of late. It was too easy to play Trey as a possible romantic interest, a welcome release from worrying about Vincent.
That’s all there was to it. Lust built out of stress.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Trey said. He held up the room’s keycard. “I’ll let myself in. Don’t open the door to anyone else. Just to be sure.”
He earned an approving nod from Edgar.
Ally waved the two men away.
She needed a hot shower and then time to deal with the workload she’d brought with her from New York. Vincent might be missing, but the company went on without him.
Had to go on without him.
…
It didn’t take Trey long to pack the suits and an overnight bag, tossing in his bathroom kit along with a few changes of casual clothing. Years of military training had taught him how to do so efficiently and quickly, ready to go.
The emotional baggage, however—that was a different situation.
Dylan was right to warn him to be careful. He might like Ally Sheldon and be attracted to her, but he was about to run through a minefield dragging chains like Marley in A Christmas Carol.
His phone rang as he headed out to his truck. The sun was setting, dipping between the buildings dotting the Las Vegas skyline.
“Hey.” It was Jessie’s voice. “How’s Ally doing?”
“Fine. Where are you?” Trey tossed the duffel bag into the back.
“Heading out to some of the smaller casinos in the area. I’ve got a standing request at the LVPD to let me know if anyone comes in, alive or dead, matching his description.”
Trey started the engine and put the truck in gear. “I’d much rather have the first.”
“So would I. I’m thinking he got into some private games, took his business out of the casinos. Those games usually head out of Vegas, away from the hotels—they frown on that sort of thing. Vincent must have taken one large withdrawal before leaving, since we haven’t had a hit on the credit or debit cards yet.”
“Probably.” Trey pointed the truck toward the hotel. “Hope he wasn’t mugged somewhere along the way. Showing off a thick wallet at any of the tables could have gotten him some unwanted attention. Farther he gets from the casinos, more likely he’s going to get into trouble.”
“We’ll see.” There was a pause, uncharacteristic for Jessie. “Dylan told me you’re staying there at the hotel. Helping out.”
“Nothing big. Ally needed someone to stand by her at a meeting today, play the strong silent type. Tomorrow she’s visiting a hospital—charity thing.”
“Yeah, Dylan brought me up to speed. Just be careful. Don’t get in too deep.”
“I won’t,” Trey said, taken aback by the emotion in her voice. “Just bodyguard work, freeing Edgar up to help find Vincent. He knows the bastard’s tricks, and if he gets to him first, it might calm the jerk down, make him easier to bring back.”
“I’ve got my cuffs.”
He heard the familiar clang of metal on metal.
Trey laughed. “Dylan know you took his favorite toy out of the bedroom?”
The playful curse had him grinning as he turned the corner.
The good mood dissipated, though, by the time he returned to the hotel room, his focus on Vincent Sheldon.
That thought rushed to the back of his mind as he opened the door to the general area between the two suites. Ally was curled up on the couch wearing a baggy T-shirt and sleep pants as she flipped through a binder.
She looked up with a smile. “That was fast.”
He held up the duffel bag. “Wasn’t much—and I don’t live that far away.”
She propped her head up with one hand. “What’s it like living here? I guess the urge to hit the casinos all the time has to be a problem.”
“Not so much. You go in a lot at first for the novelty, then after a while, they merge into the background—just another form of entertainment like the nightclubs and the shows. Now I don’t even bother—after all, the odds are always for the house, and I’d rather keep my money.” Trey walked past her to drop the bag just inside the door to Vincent’s suite. “You live in New York City—how often do you think about visiting the Statue of Liberty?” He moved back to stand by the couch.
“Point taken. You ever been to New York?”
The imaginary punch to his heart almost sent him back a step. “Once.”
She eyed him, her forehead furrowed.
“I’ve got work to do.” Trey jabbed a thumb at the next room. “What time do you want to leave for the hospital?”
“Eleven. I’ll be up early, doing work here. It’s a low-key visit, but I feel it’s important for us to go.” She paused. “Edgar’s afraid I’m a target, that I need protection. You still think Vincent was kidnapped and I could be next?”
“Unlikely but possible.” He rested his hand on the back of the chair in an attempt to settle his nerves. “You’re right that the lack of a ransom note points toward Vincent leaving voluntarily, but discovering the embezzlement changes things. Could be he got picked up by someone he owed money to, could be some issue we still don’t know about. I can’t blame Edgar for wanting to be careful when he comes to protecting you. He feels guilty for losing Vincent in the first place. I’d feel the same way and would want to be out doing something but make sure you were safe first.”
She pulled her lips into a tight line, the simple gesture sending his pulse skyward. “I guess so.” Her attention returned to the pages in her lap. “Meet you in the morning for breakfast.”
He accepted the dismissal with a quiet sigh of relief and headed into the suite next door. It took a few minutes to order up a light late-night snack of cheese and crackers via room service, instructing the waiter to leave it at the hall door—in keeping with the deception they’d created to cover Vincent’s disappearance. Food poisoning would cover a variety of sins, but not if he ordered the Big Belly Buster Burger Platter.
Edgar came in around eleven o’clock, his muted cursing accompanying him into Trey’s suite.
“Nothing.” He grunted. “Damn man’s up and disappeared.”
Trey bit back the retort—if the Brotherhood hadn’t found him yet in Vegas, Vincent wasn’t in Vegas. This was their home field.
“He’ll turn up.” It was as neutral a statement as he dared.
Edgar took a bottle of water from the mini-fridge before going to the door leading to his own room. “I know it’s going over old ground, but I have to do something.”
“I understand.” Trey nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on Ally tomorrow, promise.”
The veteran eyed him. “You damned well will. Or you’ll be answering to me.” He went into the room and closed the door.
Trey turned his attention back to the laptop screen. He’d done a basic search on the Sheldon family, partially to prepare for his time with Ally and partially to see if his theory held true.
James Sheldon and his wife had died in a car crash—he fell asleep and ran off the road into a telephone pole. Ally had been left behind with a babysitter, escaping her parents’ fate. Her uncle and aunt picked up responsibility for their niece, and for half of the company the two men had created. The public images were plentiful—Ally with her parents before the accident, the aunt and uncle at the funeral with Vincent standing nearby, holding Ally’s hand. With only a year between Ally and Vincent, it was easy to mistake them for sister and brother.
Other pictures followed—Ally at graduation, Vincent at a nightclub.
He reached down and scratched his leg, remembering how the cast had been sticky and hot, the itching driving him mad for two months. Then the therapy, mixed in with annoyance and frustration.
Until Dylan’s offer arrived.
Now he had a chance, the last best chance, to get some justice for Nick.
If Vincent was the man.
Except, if he was, Trey would destroy Ally’s life.
Trey pinched the bridge of his nose and shut down the computer, cursing himself to bed. There were no nightmares this time, just a growing shadow at the edge of his consciousness, drawing him in and down to sleep.
He woke up with a start, his senses leaping to high alert as he scanned the dark room. Something was out of place, jumpstarting his system.
There.
The soft whimpers were faint, so quiet most men would have missed it.
Except he wasn’t most men.
Trey got out of bed and tugged on his track pants. Edgar’s door was still closed, showing he hadn’t heard the cries.
A few steps took him to the door connecting the suite to the larger, main room. Trey pressed his ear to it, confirming what he’d suspected.
He opened the door slowly to see Ally curled up on the sofa, wiping her eyes. Her oversize gray sweatshirt was pulled over her knees, almost covering her black leggings.
She twisted to look at him, her mouth slightly open.
“Don’t.” He held up a hand. “Don’t apologize. You’re under a lot of stress and have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I just…” She sighed. “I can’t sleep. All I can think about is Vincent out there, possibly dead or dying in an alley somewhere, beaten up…”
He sat beside her, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug. The compromise was to touch her leg, putting his hand on her knee and squeezing lightly.
“We’ll find him. He might be capable of pulling that disappearing shit in New York or Los Angeles, but this is our city.” Trey smiled. “Our turf.”
She nodded, sniffling.
“Tell you what. Get dressed, and we’ll go out. I’ll tell Edgar.”
She frowned. “It’s after midnight. Other than the nightclubs, what’s open?” She wiped her face again. “I’m not in the mood to go dancing.”
“This is Las Vegas,” he laughed. “Remember, the city that never sleeps?”
Ally let out a chuckle. “That’s New York City.”
“We’ve got our own Statue of Liberty. Not to mention an Eiffel Tower.” He rose and presented his hands. “We’ll steal that slogan later.”
She took hold and got to her feet, a shy smile appearing. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Dress casual,” he called after her as she headed for her suite.
…
She didn’t know why she’d gone out into the main room. If she wanted to sit and cry, it’d be better done in her own suite, where she could hide away from prying eyes.
Like Trey’s.
A little voice in the back of her head reminded her she’d been attracted to him almost from the start—this wasn’t anything she hadn’t wanted, hadn’t asked for.
At least for now.
She studied her face in the mirror, and the red blotches marring her pale skin. Her worry for Vincent was real, her concern legitimate. The truth was she had no one to turn to for support—Edgar was a good man, a strong man, but he was a company employee and already worried sick about Vincent. Putting this on his shoulders wasn’t fair.
She splashed cold water on her face and went about dressing. A light blue blouse and jeans with her leather jacket over top would be enough for whatever he had in mind.
Ally exited her suite to find Trey waiting for her. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, the fabric tight on his muscular arms.
It was hard not to take a deep breath at seeing him, the friendly smile chasing away some of the fear rolling in her belly.
“Come on.” He offered her his hand and led her out of the suite, heading for the elevator. “Let’s go see what we can find. I told Edgar we were going out and I’d take care of you. And I promised not to let you drink.”
She flinched, gazing at the floor as the doors opened and they entered. “He’s afraid I’ll give in to temptation. Can’t blame him.”
The elevator began to move. “You’re too strong for that.” He slipped a finger under her chin and brought her face up, smiling. “I see that. You don’t surrender easily to your urges.”
The elevator stopped before she had a chance to respond to that, biting back her thoughts as they moved into the lobby.
“Where are we going?” She took his hand as he led her to the front door and outside, nodding at the doorman, who whistled up a taxi.
“I have friends. And friends don’t let friends brood when there’s beauty to be found in the quietest of places.” His smile continued to brush over the open wounds in her heart and soul, a soothing balm against the worries paining her. “Have you ever gone scuba diving?”
…
It’d taken a call to Dylan to ask for a favor, something easy to pay back with club tickets or a case of fine wine. As the cab pulled up in front of the Mandalay Bay Casino, Ally stiffened, her eyes narrowing as the doorman pulled the door open for her.
“I’m not looking to gamble the night away. Given recent events, I thought this would be the last place you’d bring me.”
“Don’t worry. We’re not dropping a dime here.” Trey came around from the other side of the car and offered his arm. “Believe it or not, there’s more in Vegas than just drinking and gambling.”
It was a short walk to the aquarium, but a noisy one—the flashing lights from the slot machines were distracting, the music deafening when added to the shouts and yells from the winning players at the table games. Trey had grown immune to them over time, but Ally was still new to the experience.
Her fingers tightened on his arm as he led her through the crowds, her eyes wide as she took in the eager men and women clustered around the tables and wandering the slot machine aisles.
“There are no clocks in casinos,” he said over the background chatter. “They do that for a reason. Same reason there are no windows. That way you can lose track of time and keep spending.”
She swallowed hard, glancing at the brightly-colored lights. A waitress stepped around them, balancing her tray on her bulging belly.
“She’s pregnant and still working?” Ally blurted out as they sidestepped the woman.
“Don’t worry, she’s got excellent maternity leave. And the tips are great at this time of night—not to mention getting a bit extra when they see she’s expecting.” He guided her around the corner. “Ah. Here we are.”
She hesitated, seeing the Closed sign on the aquarium entrance. “What?”
The door opened, and a man wearing the hotel uniform stepped out, smiling as he moved to admit them. “Pleased to see you. Everything’s all set up.”
“Thanks, Jeffery.” Trey shook his hand before walking in with Ally. “We’ll let you know when we leave so you can lock up again.”
“No problem.” The tall African-American beamed at Ally. “Hope you enjoy yourself.” Trey brought her into the darkness, feeling her grip loosen on his arm.
He held back a sigh of disappointment.
…
The smell was the first thing to hit her. A thick, damp scent that wiped away the last of the dryness from the casino and the drive over.
The walls seemed to be made of brick, and tall green vines climbed everywhere. The space was made up like an ancient temple, the thick stones inscribed with mysterious symbols.
“The Komodo Dragon exhibit is over here.” Trey motioned to one of the enclosures.
She walked along in awed silence, as the path wove through the exhibits. It was hard not to stand and stare at the piranha pool, the hungry predators swimming silently. Screens nearby displayed trivia about the different fish, rotating through the presentation.
They came to a tank filled with neon-colored fish, the label listing them as Caribbean. She drew her fingers along the thick glass, enjoying the sight. “They’re gorgeous.”
“That they are. But not my favorite here.” Trey took her free hand. “I like this part.”
She gasped as they stepped into a tunnel, the bright blue water surrounding them on all sides. Above them, sharks lazily swam by, the flora and fauna ignoring their presence.
“Oh my God. I’d read about places like this, but…” She reached up as if to touch the transparent roof. “How beautiful.”
They loitered in the tunnel for a long time, admiring the various creatures around them. Finally, she stepped out to spy the low pool in front of them, the sandy bottom covered with at least a foot of water.
“This is the petting zoo, usually.” There was a bit of disappointment in his voice. “It’d have stingrays here for you to touch if you wanted—but I couldn’t ask anyone to come in to put them in the pool.”
She dipped her fingers into the water, unable to resist. “That’s fine. You’ve already done so much for me tonight with this.”
He squeezed her hand. “We’re not finished yet. There’s the shipwreck over here and the actual shark exhibit. Then we need to go back—Jeffery’s keeping that door open for us.”
“Wonderful.” She exhaled. “It’s just so…”
“Yeah. I know.”
She stepped over to the huge transparent column holding tens, maybe hundreds of jellyfish. They drifted up and down in the changing colored light, almost fluorescent.
By the time they’d finished the rest of the exhibits, all worries about Vincent had been pushed to the side. Not gone, but gently maneuvered to their proper place.
“That was lovely.” She blinked as they stepped back out into the casino, assaulted by the sudden rush of noise and bright lights. “Thank you.” She left her hand in his, their fingers entwined, during the trip back to the front of the building.
…
He wasn’t a total fool. This was as much for him as it was for her, a way to tamp down their anxiety at Vincent’s disappearance—and his at a possible solution to the issue nagging at him for five long years.
He’d fed off her enjoyment, basked in her smiles and giggles as she looked over every exhibit. And when Ally had dunked her fingers in the pool for a long, magical second, Trey’d imagined her naked by a large tub, waiting to share it with him.
It was wrong and impossible, but the fantasy helped him relax—and judging by the way she held his hand as they made their way back to the exit, it’d helped her, too. The nervous grip had turned into a light grasp, the tension easing out of her muscles as she slid into the cab and smiled at him.
All in all, well worth the bribe.
She slumped against him during the ride back, and for a moment he worried she was about to start crying again, the invisible demons returning to torment her. A glance showed she was sleeping, though, her eyelids fluttering in a light nap.
Trey grinned.
Mission accomplished.
She woke up with a start when the car came to a stop, blinking wildly as he patted her hand.
“Dozed off there. Let’s get you back upstairs and into bed.”
She gave him a sleepy smile, and he gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the temptation to lean in, to steal a kiss and let her think it was nothing more than a dream.
He squeezed her hand and got out of the car, walking around to meet her.
She leaned against him, letting out a yawn as they went through the lobby. He considered picking her up in his arms then decided it’d be too intimate a gesture in public. Instead, he settled for holding her around the waist, his fingers hooking into her belt loops as he maneuvered her toward the elevators. The trip upstairs was fast, too fast for his liking. Soon they were back inside the large suite.
Ally dragged a hand through her hair. “Thank you.” She checked her watch. “I’ve got enough time left to get a decent sleep.”
He nodded, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Glad I could help out. ’Night.” He turned toward his suite, feeling the surge of desire burning through him.
“Trey.”
The single word brought him back around.
“I mean it. Thanks.” The gentle smile almost broke him. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He opened the door and backed through, forcing himself to leave her.
…
The next morning, Ally couldn’t help getting a little teary-eyed as the administrator led them through the NICU, swallowing hard as she glanced at the tiny babies, most of them in incubators. The tissue stayed close at hand in her pocket, but she didn’t grab it—not yet.
She had slept well, surprising herself when she’d woken up refreshed and able to face the day. But interwoven through her half-remembered dreams was Trey Pierce and his sudden entrance into her life.
He had his own demons and monsters, evident by the way he acted and reacted to her presence, his friendliness flashing to anger in a second when it came to talking about Vincent. Something simmered under the surface, something waiting to pull her in and down. She didn’t know what, but she’d find out before she left Vegas.
Now he walked beside her, silent, with his hands tucked behind his back. The black dress pants and white shirt he wore were perfect for something like this, the black tie loosely knotted around his neck. The leather jacket was a casual touch, tight across his broad shoulders. She caught a few of the nurses giving him the eye and suspected in another time and place he’d be walking out with a pocketful of phone numbers.
Here, he stayed quiet and respectful, taking in the presentation. The head nurse noted the new equipment the donation from Sheldon Construction was going to pay for, and again thanked them.
Trey touched Ally’s elbow as they stopped to gaze through another window, the administrator excusing herself and stepping away to talk to a nurse. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She hugged herself. “Just hard to imagine we were ever that small.”
“Had to be at some point.” He chuckled. “Although to hear my mother, I weighed at least twenty pounds coming out.”
“Ouch.” She glanced through the window at an occupied incubator. “It was bad for Betty, Vincent’s mother. She suffered not only through the labor but afterward. Couldn’t hold him, at first, because he was so sickly.”
“Had a rough time.” He didn’t let go of her arm, the heat soaking through her light blouse and into her skin, banishing the chill from her bones.
“Rough enough. Problem was my aunt and uncle never wanted him to suffer again, so they gave him everything. I remember when I first came into their house, I couldn’t believe how much stuff he had. Every cool video game, newest computer gadget, and an obscenely large TV in his room—it was like going into a toy store.” She touched his hand. “My room was filled with the same toys as well, but it still felt empty at night without my parents. But Vincent was there for me and now I’ve got to be there for him.”
For a brief second, there was a flash of something in his eyes—anger, rage—before he turned away to stare through the windows again.
The hospital administrator returned and invited them to her office, where Ally handed over the check, refusing any public ceremony.
The woman smiled. “We can’t let you go without some sort of acknowledgement. I know you refused a photo session, but…”
“Just make sure those babies get the best care they can,” Ally said. “That’s enough for us.”
The administrator nodded. “Thank you.”
“So,” Trey said as they were being escorted back to the front door, “What’s up with this? No television cameras, no big flashy photographers…?”
“Every city and town where we start up a project gets a donation like this for each site.” She tugged at the sleeves of her blouse. “My family started the tradition, and we continue it. The neonatal unit gets a donation, or at least the maternity ward. Low-key and under the radar. We won’t deny it if asked, but we don’t seek out the publicity.”
He nodded. “It’s a good thing.” Trey cleared his throat. “Is that it for the day?”
“Yes. Other than waiting to hear about Vincent.” She paused. “I have work to do back at the hotel. Once I’m settled, you can have the rest of the day off to help find Vincent.”
An odd look came over his face, and for a second she wondered what she had said to upset him.
“Let’s go back to the room, and we’ll see what happens.”
…
It was hard to hold back his annoyance with Vincent and not let it bleed through into his relationship with Ally.
What there was of it.
Vincent Sheldon might have been a good kid growing up, dealing with his physical weakness as best as he could, but if he turned out to be the drunk driver that had destroyed Trey’s life… He wouldn’t hesitate to take him down, no matter what the cost.
“How long before your parents call and find out Vincent’s missing?”
They were in his truck on their way back to the hotel.
Ally glanced out the window. “They don’t call more than once a month. Maybe an email once a week, but usually it’s to me, asking for updates and business reports.”
Trey maneuvered through the slow traffic, cutting into side alleys to avoid the worst of it. “That’s cold. I’d have thought they would want to stay close, given their attachment to Vincent.”
“It’s a push-me, pull-you situation. They want updates but are trying as hard as they can to keep us at arm’s length, give us the authority to run the company without looking over our shoulders. It’s not good business practice to be second-guessed by the previous boss, especially if it’s family.”
“While Vincent’s been drinking and gambling and…” He cut off the last of the sentence.
Ally nodded. “Oh, yes—I’m sure there’s more than one woman around somewhere with Vincent’s phone number scribbled on a napkin. That I can’t do anything about.” She gazed outside. “I have to defend him to everyone else—I don’t want to keep doing it to you. He might be a jerk, but he was there for me at the worst time in my life. I just want him back.”
Trey focused on the traffic, tamping down the words threatening to break free.
Most of them unfit for shared company.
Ally politely refused his offer to go out for lunch, pointing at the amount of extra work on her plate. Trey ordered a sandwich and soup for lunch, continuing to have the waiter leave it outside the door to keep up the ruse of Vincent’s sickness. After eating, he settled in with his laptop in the shared area, letting Ally work alone in her suite. Edgar came in once to take a shower and change his clothing. The heat was taking its toll on the older man.
“Can’t understand it. I served my time in the dry,” Edgar muttered to Trey, toweling off his head. “Getting soft.”
“No luck yet.” Trey said it as a statement of fact, not a question.
“No.” Edgar folded the towel. “Saw a few of your friends. They’re…interesting folk.”
“Really.”
“Really,” Edgar said. “You and I, you and them—I can see they’re ready under the surface, the training still turning inside their minds.” His eyes narrowed. “Pretty badass for a bunch of club bouncers.”
“We found each other after we got out. Friends taking care of friends.” It was the usual explanation given for the Brotherhood, tripping with ease off his lips.
Edgar gave him the side-eye and headed for the door. “I’ll be back later. She’s in for the night, I figure.”
“Doesn’t she ever go out?” Trey asked.
“Not often enough in my book. She’s always working late, cleaning up Vincent’s messes.” Edgar shook his head. “Seems we all are.”
Trey pressed his lips into a tight line, returning his attention to his laptop screen. There was still plenty of work to keep him busy—the Devil’s Playground didn’t run itself—and the mundane checks and balances kept his mind occupied. Add in some light Brotherhood work, ongoing surveillance tasks such as keeping an eye on the Wolf’s Teeth and Molodavi, and he didn’t have time to consider the woman a heartbeat away.
Or at least, that’s what he kept trying to tell himself.