Authors: C D Ledbetter
Kate refilled her glass. “She’s my neighbor. We say hello and that’s it.”
“Make sure she doesn’t find out you’re working with us. The fewer people who know, the better.”
Kate stared out the tinted window for a few moments, silently sipping her champagne. “What do I have to do? We’re almost at the hotel. If you’re going to give me any instructions, you’d better get on with it.”
Agent Dozer flung his right arm across the panel opening and dangled a gold watch. A row of tiny diamonds surrounded the circular timepiece. Two small sapphires highlighted the numbers twelve and six. “Put this on.”
She eyed the watch with distaste. “You’ve got to be kidding. It’s awful—definitely not my style of jewelry. My taste runs to large stones. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that ugly thing.”
He slowed their speed. “Look, Ms. Avrill, I’m sorry you think it’s ugly, but it’s important that you wear it. We have to test it to make sure there’s no bugs. If this works, it’ll be similar to the one you’ll use to try and record Mike’s conversation. We have to find out what happened to those missing agents.”
She snatched the watch and slapped it onto her wrist.
“Be careful, Ms. Avrill. That happens to have a three hundred thousand dollar price tag.”
“Fine. Just remember that I’m only helping you out of the goodness of my heart. The minute I think I’m getting in over my head, I’m quitting this gig. Get it? I’m sorry about your missing agents, but staying alive is more important than making sure you tape Mike’s conversations. I know that sounds heartless, but that’s the way it is.”
“I appreciate your help, and we’re doing everything we can to keep you safe. We’ll be at the hotel in about three minutes, so make sure you close the safety catch. That watch is the only one we have. It has a range of five blocks, so don’t stray too far or I’ll lose the signal. Do you see the winding stem? That’s what turns the system on and off. To start recording, simply pull the stem out and twist it upward one full turn. In addition to moving the hour hand ahead, it also flashes the ‘begin recording’ signal to the remote recorder. You’ll see one tiny flash. That lets you know the recorder has started taping. When you see the flash, simply push the stem back in. To stop recording, pull out the stem and twist it downward one full turn. That moves the hour hands back, and sends the ‘stop recording’ signal. The watch face will flash one more time.
"Don’t worry, the flash isn’t bright, so nobody will notice. Then, once you see the second flash, simply push the stem back in and go about your business. I’ll keep the recorder in the limo. Start recording at nine o’clock and keep it going for thirty minutes. At nine-thirty, turn it off. Think you can do it?"
The glass partition reappeared as the limo slid to a halt. This time Dozer got out and walked around to the passenger door. As Kate exited the vehicle, he tipped his fingers to his hat in a mock salute.
Emily took one look at the expression on Glen’s face and wondered how she was going to recapture the easy-going mood they’d experienced before meeting Kate. She turned toward him. “I love this time of day in the desert. It’s so…refreshing, with the gorgeous sunset and cooler temperature.”
“Yeah, I love the nighttime. But I like the part of the desert that’s away from the strip. With all the bright lights you can’t see anything else.”
“Me, too. I’d much rather be away from town. Solitude appeals to me more than being in a crowded room.”
His frown disappeared, and a smile took its place. “I wish I’d known. If you’d said something earlier, I wouldn’t have booked us a table at the Micasso.”
She couldn’t contain her gasp of surprise. “I can’t believe we’re going to Vegas’ most exclusive restaurant!”
His grin widened. “The chef’s a friend of mine, and he’s promised to whip us something special.”
Emily reached out and touched his arm. “Oh my God, Glen. I had no idea you were taking me to the Micasso. You didn’t have to do that.”
“No problem, Emily. Besides, I thought you’d like to see the paintings.”
“I love Picasso’s works.”
He draped an arm casually across her shoulders as they walked toward the restaurant. “Well, don’t expect me to take you here every time we go out,” he teased. “The next time it might be hamburgers and fries.”
Absorbed in the paintings, Emily nodded. “Go ahead.” When her dazed mind returned to some semblance of normalcy, she found Glen grinning at her. “They must have spent a fortune on this place.”
“They did. It took a lot of time and money, but I think the end result was worth it.”
She nodded eagerly, lifting her eyes to the cove ceilings, then taking in the carefully placed tables, immaculate linen tablecloths, and sedately upholstered chairs. The upscale restaurant was the perfect blend of elegant, but understated, luxury. “You couldn’t have picked a better restaurant. It’s wonderful."
He filled their glasses with champagne and set the bottle back in its silver ice bucket. The amber liquid flowed down Emily’s throat and lit a fire in her veins. “Excellent champagne,” she said, placing her glass on the table. She smiled at him and toyed with her salad fork. “What are we eating?” she asked. “I’m afraid I was so dazzled by the paintings I didn’t hear you order.”
“I’ve ordered the Chef’s Platter, and Julian has promised to make it a truly exceptional dining experience.”
Emily watched the crinkle of his eyes as he laughed and decided to raise their little game to another level. “Let me get this straight. You’ve taken me to Nevada’s finest restaurant, plied me with expensive champagne, and had the master chef cook up something extra special for dinner? You certainly have gone to a lot of trouble. Are you planning to seduce me?”
He dabbed his napkin against his mouth. “That’s what I like about you, Emily. You’re so subtle.”
“I try.”
He waved away the waiter hovering in the background. Once he’d refilled his glass and topped off Emily’s, he leaned forward and made direct eye contact. “Actually there is a reason I’ve brought you here. It’s to butter you up. I have a proposition for you.”
Emily did her best to cover her surprise. She set her glass on the linen tablecloth and dropped her gaze to her hands. “I’m disappointed in you, Glen,” she whispered in a voice tinged with regret. “I know I haven’t been divorced all that long, but surely you could have waited until after dinner before you propositioned me.” She lifted her gaze to his. “And, not to put too fine a point on it, but you could have done it with a little more finesse.”
He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “Emily, I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about business.”
Stunned, she could only gape at him. “Oh.”
He smiled. “I never mix business with pleasure. That’s a bad combination. This is strictly business. Besides, did you really think I’d be so blunt if sex was what I was after? Surely you think I have a little more class than that.”
She withdrew her hand from his, stunned and stung by his explanation. He didn’t want to go to bed with her; he wanted something else. “Why go into business with me?” she asked. “I’m a floral designer, for Heaven’s sakes! What do I have that you could possibly want?”
Glen poured the rest of the champagne into his glass and stuck the empty bottle into the ice bucket. Moments later their first course arrived.
“Well?” Emily demanded once the waiter was out of earshot. “I’m waiting. What’s so important that you had to wine and dine me before talking about it?”
Glen sampled his food, then sipped his champagne. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold,” he ordered. “We’ll talk later. Maybe then you’ll be in a better frame of mind.”
Emily pushed her plate to one side. “I’m not hungry,” she said in a defiant tone. To her surprise, instead of reacting to her statement, he reached across the table and snitched one of her poached oysters.
“Fine,” he said between bites. “You can sit there and stew while I eat. I’m not going let an excellent meal go to waste because you’ve decided to act childish.”
“Me—childish?” she sputtered. She snatched her plate out of his reach and stabbed at an oyster, wincing as her silverware clanged against the bottom of the serving dish. “Now look what you made me do,” she snapped. She made a point of scooting her plates close to her body as each remaining course was served, taking time to glare at him between bites. “I’m still mad at you,” she whispered, finishing off the last of her crab salad.
He glanced at her, unperturbed. “Well, at least you’ve eaten. Be sure and let me know when you’re ready to act like an adult, and I’ll tell you what I have in mind.”
She considered stomping out in a huff, then decided that an undignified exit wasn’t the answer. Swallowing her anger and disappointment, she slashed at her dessert with her fork and was startled when Glen reached out and covered her hand with his.
“I’d rather not have to replace the china.”
“Better the dessert plate than your hand,” she hissed.
“Lady, you’re something else, do you know that?” He placed his hand palm-down along side her plate. “Here, if it makes you feel any better, go ahead.”
Tempted, she picked up her fork, then lowered it onto her plate. “No thanks,” she said in her sweetest tone. “Blood might spatter on my dress. My dry cleaner told me that the next time I brought in an outfit with blood on it, I’d have to go somewhere else. No man’s worth losing a good dry cleaner over.”
Laughing, he retracted his hand. “I’m glad to see you’ve finally recovered your sense of humor.”
She flashed him a wicked grin. “Just because I’ve recovered my sense of humor doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. I’m still not happy with you.”
“How about a walk?” he asked, signaling for the bill. “There’s a beautifully landscaped walkway that circles the hotel’s arboretum.”
He slid his arm across the back of the bench and inched closer. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask for any money, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he whispered in a soft voice.
Emily ignored the warm breath on the back of her neck. “All right,” she sighed. “Let’s get it over with. The sooner you tell me, the sooner we can go home.”
He glanced around, making sure they were alone. “I know about your unusual talent,” he began. Ignoring her gasp of surprise, he continued. “I’ve known about it for weeks. I was at the Indian Casino in El Cajon when they brought you in for questioning.”
Emily stared at him, too stunned to speak. “I didn’t see you. Where…where were you?”
“In the security office. I give facial recognition system training to casinos in my spare time. I was about to start a training session when you caught security’s attention.”
So that was why he told her she was being watched when he dropped his keys. He must have been planning on turning her over to the cops himself, presumably for some kind of reward. “What…what do you want? I wasn’t cheating, you know,” she said, raising her chin defiantly.
He patted her arm. “I know. I’ve watched the tapes.”
She twisted to face him. “What tapes?”
“The casino in El Cajon made tapes of you playing the machines.” Two couples strolled past them, and Glen put his index finger to his lips. “Shhhhh…Let’s finish our conversation in the car, shall we?” He motioned to a group of people headed their way. “It’s getting a little too crowded out here.”
Emily nodded, glad for the brief respite. As they walked to the car, she tried to gather her wooly thoughts. Okay, so he knew about her talent. That might not be an insurmountable problem, depending on what he planned to do with the information. She waited until they were on the freeway before plying him with questions. “I probably ought to tell you that it doesn’t always work.”
“Yeah, right. You better let me finish before you dig yourself a hole so deep you can’t get out.”
“Fine. Go ahead.”
“Look, Emily, don’t get huffy with me. I’m one of the few people who’s been in this business long enough to help you figure out how not to get caught. Right now, whether you believe it or not, your actions practically scream out ‘Look at me—I’m cheating at the slots.’ You’re lucky nobody’s picked you up yet. Believe me, Nevada casinos take cheating very seriously. If they even think you’re cheating, your image goes into the security database, which means that you’ll be spotted by a facial recognition system every time you set foot inside any casino. Once they match up your facial characteristics using a multi-point measuring system, you’ll be asked to leave. I know because that’s what I do for a living—pick out folks who ‘just don’t look right,’ and run the images through the system. The first time you get picked up, you’ve had it. You were just about to get caught last night when I walked up. Look, I’m not greedy. All you have to do in return for my help is to split what you win. We’ll practice on the little jackpots. Then, when you’re ready, we’ll go after the really big money—the one that will make us millionaires. Then we go our separate ways. No more, no less.” He waited for her to respond but she remained silent, hands clasped in her lap. “Well, what do you think?”