Stacking the Deck (Redemption Club Book 1) Read online

  She didn’t reply, not that he expected her to.

  Jared cocked his head, studying his mystery woman. She didn’t look like a blackmailer, killer, or kidnapper, or any of the other recent threats that had prompted Stone to hire security, but Jared wasn’t about to underestimate her, especially with the distrust and anger shimmering in her eyes. Besides, money could lure even the least desperate of men—or women—to commit unusual acts, and Stone had some very wealthy enemies.

  “That doesn’t mean he deserves to be shot,” he said. She bit her bottom lip, drawing his attention there for a split second. His gaze lifted to her eyes, where he caught a flash of triumph. Clever girl.

  “I was only observing the party. The guy’s a big-time movie producer and I wanted to catch a glimpse of the glamorous life.” She shrugged. “Nothing illegal about that.”

  He eyed the bag again. Suddenly, he’d had enough of the lies. She stiffened as he took a couple of quick, long strides forward and grabbed the hand that he suspected held a weapon. He twisted her wrist until, with a soft gasp, she released the knife and it clattered to the sun deck. Her muscles bunched in preparation to fight and he sent her a warning glance. “Don’t even think about it, or losing your knife will be the least of your worries.” He loosened his grip on her slender wrist but didn’t let go.

  She didn’t do anything to stop him as he reached into the duffel with his other hand. She probably sensed it would be a losing battle. Or maybe she was biding her time, waiting for him to expose a weakness she could take advantage of. Not likely, sweetheart. Inside the duffel, he spied another knife—this one larger—a rifle, a handgun and several boxes of ammunition.

  He straightened. “Why didn’t you take the shot?”

  She shrugged as if it were no big deal, but didn’t answer.

  “This may be your lucky day. Mr. Stone is offering a reward to find whoever’s trying to pay someone to harm him.”

  Surprise flickered across her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He ignored her denial. A contract had to be the reason she was here, armed to the teeth. “Maybe he’d pay you to tell him who hired you.” And Jared could entice her to share with him what she knew about Stone. Maybe it would lead to his missing sister.

  Her soft lips pressed into a defiant line. “He can’t afford me. Some things are worth more than money.”

  He nearly laughed but choked it back as he caught the seriousness in her tone. All evidence implied she was a gun for hire, yet she appeared to have her own code of ethics. His mystery woman became more intriguing by the minute. “Either way, I’ll be taking you with me to see Stone. You two can sort this out.”

  He was twisting her arm behind her back to force her to march in front of him toward the stairs, when a gunshot sounded, and shards of broken brick flew from the edge of the rooftop, only a few inches from his other hand. Reflexively, he dropped into a crouch, but in the same moment she twisted, breaking his hold and flattening her body against the deck.

  The knife he’d knocked from her hand glinted in the moonlight, out of her reach. He planted a boot on her duffel bag, which lay at his feet, figuring this would keep her from attacking him from behind as he dealt with the more pressing threat—the unseen gunman.

  Turning his gaze to the external problem somewhere out there in the dark trees, he remained behind the low ledge that rimmed the sun deck and reached for the mic at his collar. He switched it on, hoping he wasn’t too far away from Stone’s home to communicate with the rest of the security team. “Shots fired. I’m on the roof of the Montegena property north of Stone’s.” He switched off the communication. “Is the shooter one of yours?” he asked the woman. When he didn’t receive a reply, he swiveled to face her, only to find her gone. Her duffel bag was still in a heap at his feet, deserted in her haste to escape. She’d apparently fled down the spiral staircase, quick and quiet as a… rabbit.

  Remaining in a crouch, he skirted the perimeter of the rooftop, glancing out into the darkness but seeing no sign of movement, either from his mystery woman or the shooter. She’d disappeared into the night.

  “Shit.” He turned on the mic again. “In addition to an unidentified shooter, be on the lookout for a woman dressed all in black. Five-seven, blue eyes, dark brown hair. Armed and…” Dangerous? She might have been unarmed when she left the rooftop, but she could have another weapon stashed somewhere, and her accomplice sure as hell had one. “Approach with caution. Bring her to me.” He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

  His grin of anticipation faded as a motor roared to life and the sound of rubber on asphalt squealed from the direction of the road. Shit.

  He snatched up her duffel bag, noting that the rifle was still there, as well as a handgun, a couple of knives and a rope. He might be able to trace the registration on the rifle or gun—if they weren’t stolen. Then he remembered the truck. Had Mark Sheldon been her accomplice? Had he come back for her? It was the most likely scenario.

  He made the choice to risk another bullet by scurrying across the roof to the stairs, assuming the shooter—very possibly Mark Sheldon—had fled with his mystery woman. As he descended, two voices replied through his earpiece, indicating that his message had gotten through to the other men monitoring Stone’s party. He repeated the truck’s license plate information, make and model as he slung the duffel bag over his shoulder and took off running for the place where the vehicle had been parked.

  Maybe he could catch his rabbit yet.

  Chapter Two

  When Jared reached the road, there was no beat-up pickup truck in sight. His lovely rabbit was long gone. Still, he was vigilant in checking between every parked car and behind every bush as he made his way back. Meyer, one of the other two GSS bodyguards assigned to Stone, jogged up when Jared reached the edge of Stone’s driveway.

  “The hills are clear,” Meyer said. “Duffy’s inside watching the guests, but the natives are growing restless.”

  Jared’s gaze swept the property, but his instinct, and his eyes, told him the threat was over—for now. At least he had the truck’s info, Mark Sheldon’s name, and the duffel bag full of weapons. He’d tap his resources at GSS and local authorities in Arizona and hope it led to his mystery woman. “Is the client safe?”

  “Duffy personally escorted him inside after the first shot was fired. Stone grumbled a bit, but he complied.”

  “I think it’s safe to let the guests outside again, but we’ll need to question each of them individually.” If the shooter wasn’t Sheldon, he or she could have slipped in among the partygoers. Or maybe a guest had seen something out of the ordinary.

  Inside the house, Jared eyed the crowd. No sign of his mystery woman, but there had to be at least a hundred guests. Stone’s Malibu home wasn’t as expansive as his Las Vegas estate, but it was luxuriously appointed. Food, alcohol, and music would keep most of the guests satisfied, but with this many bodies, they would get cranky and start leaving if Jared’s team didn’t act fast.

  As Duffy joined him and Meyer, Jared gave orders. “Split the crowd into groups and start recording names and asking questions. I need to talk to Stone and then I’ll join you.” He made his way through the crowd in the living room to Stone’s side.

  Stone maintained his calm smile for anyone who was watching, but his words vibrated with fury. “What the hell is going on? Did you catch whoever scared my guests?”

  “I think we’d better move this discussion somewhere more private,” Jared suggested, then parted the crowd as they moved to Stone’s private den.

  As Stone entered behind him, the man’s entire demeanor changed, switching from affable party host to no-nonsense businessman the instant the door closed behind him. Beyond the barrier, Meyer and Duffy called for everyone’s attention and began dividing up the crowd.

  “Was I the target?” Stone shot his question at Jared the moment they were alone. He could turn his charm on and off so quickly
it made Jared’s head spin, and validated the rumors that Stone was a self-involved narcissist who used charm only to get his way. Then again, Stone had to be in schmooze mode most of the time for business. Sometimes that business was building and developing his hotel chain and cruise line, sometimes it was making movies, and a lot of the time it was partying with the rich elite.

  Had Jared’s sister been at one of those parties before she disappeared? If so, where was she now?

  Jared ruthlessly ignored the clenching of his gut and shoved thoughts of Chelsea aside. “You weren’t the target.”

  “Explain.”

  “The shot was fired at the Montegena property, where I was questioning a trespasser.” Interrogating seemed too strong a word when he’d been toying with her.

  “A trespasser? What, like a vagrant?”

  “No, sir. The woman on the rooftop was armed.” The duffel he’d locked in his vehicle before entering Stone’s house contained a portable arsenal. “She’d been watching the party, but she didn’t fire the shot. Someone fired at us as a distraction.”

  “There were two?”

  “I believe the other was a man who was hanging around the area earlier. His name is Mark Sheldon.”

  Stone’s eyes narrowed. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Who was the woman?”

  “I don’t know, but she had the most unique eyes I’ve ever seen. A vivid blue.” Arrestingly beautiful, her irises were the sky at twilight, with deeper blues and hints of violet. He shook away the romantic image. “She was in her midtwenties. Sound familiar? Maybe an actress you turned down for a part?” Or a woman you slept with and tossed aside like the others?

  Jared had observed Stone’s relationship patterns over the past three weeks. He’d shower a woman with the finest luxuries money could buy—more as a testament to his wealth than to win her over—tire of her within a few days, and move on to the next in line. Chelsea was Stone’s type—blonde, beautiful, curvy in the right places. And desperate for attention. Twin stabs of guilt and regret hit Jared in the solar plexus.

  Stone seemed to consider the mystery woman’s description for a long moment, but didn’t answer Jared’s question. “Do you think she’s involved in the threats against me?”

  He recalled the flash of surprise in her eyes when he’d mentioned accepting a contract on Stone. “I’m not sure.”

  “I want to talk to her immediately. Didn’t you mention the reward?”

  “I told her.”

  “Well, find her and convince her to talk.” Stone fisted his hands at his sides, visibly reining in his frustration. “I’ll offer more.”

  “I don’t believe that’s necessary.” Not everyone was motivated by greed. Jared got the impression this wasn’t about money, which meant it was personal for her, just as it was for him.

  “Do whatever is necessary. It’s what I pay you for.”

  Jared bit his tongue as Stone walked out. He’d take a page from the man’s playbook. Gaining the woman’s compliance was a matter of figuring out what she wanted. But he had to find her first.

  “You shouldn’t have fired that shot.” Skye’s gaze continually shifted from the rearview mirror to the dark road ahead as she resisted the urge to press down hard on the accelerator. California Highway 1 led them away from the mountains of Malibu and toward their motel. Nobody was following, but the sense of someone breathing down her neck wouldn’t subside. The soldier had gotten too close, and her nerves were still jangling from their encounter.

  Beside her in the passenger seat, Mark rapped his fingertips against the truck’s bench seat. “The guy tried to chase me off, but I couldn’t leave you there. I had a feeling he’d go after you next.” His dark hair ruffled in the breeze coming through the open window as, like her, his attention alternated anxiously between the side-view mirror and the traffic ahead of them. “I hated that I put you in danger. And then I saw you both on that rooftop, saw him grab your wrist.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be anywhere near there for another hour. You were to pick me up at the rendezvous at our scheduled time.” All of this could have been avoided if he’d just stuck to the plan. Damn, she should never have agreed to let him come to California with her. She worked so much better when she didn’t have to worry about anyone else.

  “I couldn’t leave you to do this alone, not when you’re doing it for me.”

  “I’m used to working solo.” Besides, he was paying her handsomely to find Loretta and make the man who lured her away pay.

  “Except when it comes to proving guilt.”

  “Which you haven’t accomplished yet,” she reminded him.

  “Stone took my daughter.” Mark cursed the man’s name. “But I probably should have handled this myself. Your uncle would skin me alive if he knew I’d encouraged you to go out of state, and then to risk your own neck.” He shook his head vigorously. “No, I did the right thing by getting you out of there. And we’re safe, so it worked.”

  “Except now Stone knows we were lurking around his property, he may have called the police and we’re no closer to finding Loretta.” Skye instantly regretted her harsh words, but she was certain the rooftop soldier had already reported to Stone what he’d seen that evening. They were probably reinforcing any weak spots at this very moment. She wouldn’t be able to get that close to her target again. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I appreciate you coming to my rescue. And now we’ll never have to see that guy again.” Though it meant leaving behind her favorite rifle and a few other weapons, and that hurt. Mark went quiet—the guilty kind of silence—and she swung her gaze from the road to him. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “He has my information.”

  “What? Who?”

  “The guy… He asked me for my license.”

  Skye bit back an expletive. “And you just gave it to him?”

  “I’m sorry. I haven’t been thinking straight since… Fuck.” Mark shoved both hands through his hair and released a shaky breath. Seeing the guy on the verge of a breakdown blunted the sharp edges of her anger.

  They’d been sure they’d find Loretta within a couple of days of arrival in Hollywood, following her credit card trail—or, rather, Mark’s credit card trail, from the card Loretta had taken when she’d disappeared. The last transaction had been made in a convenience store in Hollywood nearly eleven days ago, just a few days after she’d left the ranch. There hadn’t been another charge since.

  They’d spent the past ten days scouring Hollywood for any sign of the seventeen-year-old, certain a young beauty like Loretta would have caught someone’s attention. But Los Angeles was neck-deep in young blonde bombshells. All they’d found were dead ends. The convenience store clerks where Mark’s card had been charged hadn’t recognized Loretta’s picture. Questioning talent scouts, agents, and everyone she could find connected to Stone Studios, had led nowhere. It was as if Loretta had never existed. Nobody had seen her. Stone’s party had been Skye’s last-ditch effort to spot the girl who’d apparently been swallowed up by the city.

  “I know I’m not the only one who’s frustrated,” Mark said into the silence. “She was your friend, and given what I’d heard about you…” At her sharp glance, his words trailed off.

  Nobody was supposed to say anything about the jobs she’d fulfilled unless she gave the go-ahead. Unfortunately, word was getting around her corner of Arizona about her talent as a vigilante. The police couldn’t always be trusted to help people like her and Mark—people who lived off the grid and wanted to retain their anonymity. She’d been raised to handle herself, but she’d also been warned to fly under the radar. “You didn’t mention this to Tom, did you?”

  “Hell, no. The guy would have my hide, especially after sheltering Loretta and me at Three Fortunes. But we’ve been gone so long your uncle has to suspect something, right?”

  “He thinks I do private investigator-type work.” What she actually did was completely off the books due to
the sometimes sketchy nature of the jobs. He didn’t know the lengths to which she’d gone—lengths that had only involved illegal or violent acts a few times, in self-defense or to protect someone caught in the crossfire. She didn’t accept dangerous missions without careful thought. Only the worst of the worst candidates passed her stringent checklist. The target had to have seriously harmed an innocent, had to have done so without compunction or regret, and had to have escaped punishment—which was why she hadn’t pulled the trigger tonight. Stone might have encouraged Loretta to run away from home, but unless she’d been harmed, Skye wouldn’t go after him.

  Some called her a hit woman. Some had professed she was an angel of justice. Skye preferred to think of what she did as advocating for those who’d been denied justice. Speaking out for those who were voiceless, because she knew exactly what it was like to suffer at someone else’s hands and have no recourse. She’d vowed never again to let evil run roughshod over her or anyone else.

  Finn Tucker paced his best friend’s room at the Stone estate. “You’re the goddamn prince of the castle and you’re telling me security won’t tell you what happened tonight?”

  “Pump your brakes, man,” Ryan Stone said. “You’re acting like someone shot at you.” As the privileged, only son of Robert Stone, Ryan lounged lazily like royalty on his bed, his arm around his date, who was snuggled up to his side, passed out and half naked. Ryan exuded entitlement, which stirred Finn’s anger, bringing it roaring to the surface. It didn’t matter that Finn was more handsome, an up-and-coming actor and soon-to-be-acclaimed director, a prime physical specimen at age thirty, or that they’d been best friends since boarding school. Ryan still got everything and left Finn with jack shit.