Stacking the Deck (Redemption Club Book 1) Page 3

Seeing the direction of his gaze, Ryan slid his palm from the woman’s bare shoulder down to her silk-clad hip and squeezed. She let out a soft sigh but didn’t awaken. “You’re just cranky because that bodyguard muscled Erica out of here. I’m going to get some tonight and you’re not.” That Ryan was right only made things worse.

  “Looks like you started early.” The woman’s dress was pushed to her waist, her plump, artificial double D’s pressed to the side of Ryan’s bare chest. Ryan liked his women perfected and enhanced by a plastic surgeon’s knife, probably because he’d grown up among people who valued physical beauty and extravagance at any cost. So had Finn, but he liked all types of females. He viewed them more as works of art than something to warm his bed. He prided himself on seeing the humanity, for better or worse, in every living creature.

  It was the humanity that made things interesting.

  “Had time for a little fun,” Ryan said with a grin. “The party was boring, anyway.”

  “But you didn’t fire a gun, just to make things interesting?” It was the kind of thing Ryan would do, especially since disrupting the event would rile up his father, who valued his public image.

  “Not this time. I thought it could have been you.”

  “No, not me, though you’re right. Tonight could have used some livening up.” Especially after his date had gotten fall-down drunk. Finn gestured to the sleeping woman. “At least I’m not the only one ending the night with a limp dick. Doesn’t look like your date is good for much more.”

  “She will be. I’ve heard rumors she’s into some kinky stuff. Forget shades of gray, she’s into every color, if you know what I mean.” With his free hand, he saluted Finn with a tumbler of scotch before taking a deep swallow. His eyes glittered with power as they met Finn’s over the rim of the glass. “I could pass her on to you when I’m done.”

  Finn’s anger at the insult simmered. No way did he want somebody’s seconds, let alone Ryan’s. He’d had enough secondhand shit from Ryan during high school, throughout four years of college, and for the years since graduation.

  It was Finn’s turn, damn it. He deserved a taste of glory. And once he had it, he wouldn’t waste it like Ryan did. He’d give the trappings of his success the respect they deserved.

  Everything was a fucking game to the son of one of the most powerful men in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and New York. Hell, Robert Stone probably reigned over the entire goddamn world—at least in the entertainment sector. His films had won every award out there. His hotels, casinos, and themed cruises were world-renowned for their luxury and extravagance, and his son reaped all the benefits without a moment of hard work or stress.

  Life wasn’t fucking fair.

  Still, Finn would rather be part of it all than an outsider looking in, so he’d bide his time. Patience was key, as was hard work. Soon, he would have his own day—no, a fucking lifetime—in the sun.

  Ignoring Ryan’s smirk, Finn shook his head. “I’m covered, thanks. Got enough wannabe actresses in my stable.” There was always room for more, but not one of Ryan’s. He’d pick and choose his own girls.

  Ryan’s eyes lit with interest. “The project is going well, then?”

  “It is. We’ll be ready for a new hunt in a few days. Just one more girl should do it.”

  “Not just anyone,” Ryan reminded him.

  Irritation shot through Finn like a jolt of electricity, but he hid it behind a casual grin. “Of course not. I have discriminating tastes.” His gaze flicked over the woman at Ryan’s side in a silent dig at Ryan’s lack of selectiveness.

  “Good, because that’s what’ll bring the big bucks. As long as you’re more careful than the last girl.”

  “Nobody will miss her.”

  “Someone’s already been asking questions about Loretta at the studio.”

  Finn hid his surprise. “Only because she stole that damn credit card. I thought using it in Hollywood would throw her dad off the scent—if he came looking for her at all.” Loretta had made it seem like nobody would miss her. “She won’t use it again. They’ll never find her.”

  Ryan grunted as if withholding judgment. “Who’s the new girl you’re after?”

  “You don’t need to know.” Another ripple of irritation had Finn turning toward the door. Erica was to have been his next recruit, before Stone’s bodyguard ruined it. If only she’d held her liquor and stopped bugging Stone about the movie part Finn had hinted at. Instead, she’d been a nuisance and gotten herself thrown out. Maybe he could still salvage the evening, though. “I’ll leave you to your private party. Have fun.”

  Ryan snorted. “Don’t I always? Intrepidus vive ferociter ludeque.”

  Finn returned the Latin salutation. They’d come up with it when they’d had to study the dead language in boarding school. The live fearlessly, play ferociously mentality had become their credo.

  In the living room he skirted the crowd, his thoughts on finding Erica. As he reached the front door, he was stopped by one of Stone’s bodyguards, who was acting as gatekeeper of the party. The guy, who identified himself as Meyer, wouldn’t let him leave until he had Finn’s name, rank, and serial number—or at least his name and how he was connected to Stone.

  “You guys any closer to catching the shooter?” Finn feigned a concern he didn’t feel. After all, he made his own fate by living fearlessly. Some loser who couldn’t handle a gun didn’t worry him—unless he happened to be connected to Loretta.

  “We’ll be working on it, don’t worry,” Meyer said, apparently swallowing Finn’s act.

  He gestured to the thinning crowd. “Hard to believe one of my friends or colleagues would just open fire.”

  “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. We think the shooter is from Arizona.” With that, the guard turned to the person waiting in line behind Finn.

  Arizona? It had to be a coincidence—because admitting Ryan was right, that Finn shouldn’t have hunted so close to home base, was unacceptable.

  Finn clamped down on a sudden wave of anxiety as he strode out the front door, got into his car, and pulled out his phone to scroll through the contacts. Under a folder marked Redemption Club, he found what he needed.

  When the person on the other end mumbled a sleepy greeting, Finn laid out his plan. “Use the credit card I sent you. Tonight. It has to be clear that Loretta Sheldon is far from Malibu.”

  Chapter Three

  Early the next morning, Jared turned in a slow circle, taking in the entirety of the dingy motel room with its double beds that sagged in the middle. In honor of its proximity to the ocean—and apparently as an homage to the 1980s, when the place had last been updated—the décor was a blend of whitewashed furnishings, gold accents, and pastel bedding. But there was no sign of the woman he’d hoped to find here, or the man to whom the room had been rented.

  Jared had greased palms along Highway 1 until he’d hit upon this motel. The manager of the rent-by-the-hour, no-tell motel confirmed that Mark Sheldon and an attractive woman with vivid blue eyes had checked into Room 112 a few days ago, but the woman hadn’t given a name. Jared could only hope his connections with the Arizona DMV and the ATF would lead to a name as he traced the registrations on the truck and rifle.

  In the meantime, he carefully searched the motel room for clues. In the end, he only came away impressed with his mystery woman’s attention to detail. She’d wiped all prints, disposed of the contents of the trash can elsewhere, and hadn’t left a hair in the drain or lost a receipt behind the dresser. No trace. If he hadn’t seen her big blue eyes for himself, he might think she’d never existed. Someone had trained her well in the art of disappearing—or not existing at all. But he had the duffel bag as confirmation his encounter with her had been real.

  Jared phoned his team to check on protection for Stone, wondering if she’d return to do harm or retrieve her weapons.

  “We’re at Stone Studios,” Meyer said. “He’s been in meetings all morning,
but otherwise all is quiet. Duffy’s screening people in the lobby before they even get upstairs.”

  “I’m heading your way now. Don’t let him leave.” Jared wanted to talk to the studio’s employees before reporting to Stone and questioning the man further. Upon reflection, Jared thought maybe Stone was holding something back regarding the blackmail demands he’d received. On the drive, his connection at the DMV called.

  “It’s a ranch work truck, registered to Three Fortunes Ranch,” the guy said through the speaker.

  Jared kept his eyes on the road as he scribbled down the northern Arizona address. “Stolen?”

  “Hasn’t been reported as such.”

  “Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

  He parked at Stone Studios before bringing up the maps app on his phone and locating the property ten minutes north of Interstate 40, near the town of Williams and about an hour from the Grand Canyon. But was that where his mystery woman had fled? She seemed the tenacious sort, so she might still be in the Los Angeles area, plotting to go after Stone.

  As Jared progressed through the building toward Stone’s office, he talked to employees along the way. The receptionist at the sleek, curved cobalt-and-magenta front counter smiled and greeted him. And confirmed that a woman with memorable blue eyes had been in about a week ago, flashing a picture of a pretty blonde teen and asking if anyone had seen her. It had taken the receptionist a moment to recall the details, but she thought the girl she’d been looking for was named Lorraine. Or Linda. Something with an L.

  It had been the same story as he progressed down the hall, popping into the various departments to ask questions.

  Apparently, though, his mystery woman hadn’t been allowed near the back offices, near Stone. Or she’d been ordered off the property for making herself an annoyance. Which was likely why she’d resorted to roosting on the rooftop, observing Stone from afar. Through a rifle scope.

  While waiting in the lobby for Stone to emerge from a meeting, Jared researched Sheldon on a computer, as Duffy continued to search a seemingly endless stream of actresses who were arriving for a casting call. Duffy looked to be enjoying the task.

  Jared focused on his cell phone screen as he brought up a news article about a Mark Sheldon in Phoenix who, along with his teenage daughter, had survived a violent home invasion three years ago. His wife, tragically, had not. After the trial ended with a shockingly light sentence for the two men who’d perpetrated the crimes, Mark had declared he’d had enough of city life. He fit the description of the man Jared had encountered. Did that mean Mark had relocated to Three Fortunes?

  A text popped up from his contact at the ATF. His heart beat with excitement as the next piece of the puzzle fell into place. The rifle had led to a name.

  Skye Hamilton.

  But no picture to confirm. Still, he felt he was on the right track. And part of his adrenaline came from Skye’s apparent agenda. Had it been Mark’s daughter Skye was looking for? If she was looking for a missing young woman, and he was looking for a missing young woman…

  “He’ll see you now.” Stone’s secretary interrupted his thoughts.

  He headed into Stone’s office, wondering if the man was somehow luring young women away—and what he was doing with them afterward. While searching for Chelsea, he’d had little to go on. Just that the last job before her disappearance had been working a private party at Legacy, Stone’s Las Vegas hotel and casino. But two missing women? Perhaps Skye Hamilton was privy to more information. But it also chilled his soul that Chelsea might not just be missing, that she might have met with foul play.

  With a nod to Meyer, who stood posted outside Stone’s office, Jared entered and shut the door.

  Stone was just getting off the phone. “Did you find her?”

  “No, but I have a name. Skye Hamilton. I believe she’s connected to a ranch in Arizona named Three Fortunes.” He expected to learn she was an actress who’d been looking for a part, or that she’d contacted him, asking about a missing woman, but the shock on Stone’s face indicated something more. “Does that sound familiar?”

  Stone cleared his throat. “These are names I haven’t heard in years.”

  “How about Chelsea Wright? Have you heard that name?” His sister had opted to use her father’s name once she’d turned eighteen, though they could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen or heard from the guy. But that was more contact than Jared’s father had initiated.

  Stone thought for a moment. “No. Should I have?”

  Jared took a deep breath, uncertain whether Stone was lying. But he’d been honest about Skye… “How do you know Skye?”

  “I don’t. Not really. Her uncle and I were… friends.”

  “From what I’ve learned, she was looking for a missing teenager.”

  Stone’s stunned gaze met Jared’s. “This isn’t about me?”

  The man had a healthy ego. Jared tamped down his anger. “Would she have a reason to blackmail you, or try to harm you?”

  Stone stood abruptly and walked to the door. “I’ll handle this. You can see yourself out.” He held the door open.

  Surprised by the sudden turn in conversation, Jared rose. “I can help. If she’s a threat—”

  “I’ll handle it,” he said again. “This is more delicate than I originally thought. You’re dismissed.”

  Skye was exhausted, having packed up and cleaned the motel room quickly last night before seeking another cheap place, well away from Malibu, where they could hide the truck around back and crash for what was left of the night. She’d slept restlessly, dreaming of caramel eyes that found her wherever she hid.

  They’d woken to the sound of an alert on Mark’s phone. His credit card had been used—in Las Vegas. Only a few hours’ drive away.

  Relief at having a reason to put some distance between her and Malibu—and the man from the rooftop—quickly turned to annoyance that she was turning tail and running. During the drive to Vegas, she soothed her pride by reminding herself there’d been no sign of Loretta in California, despite nearly two weeks of looking for her.

  Still, if Loretta were seeking a job as an actress, what was she doing in Vegas? Perhaps she’d decided to become a show girl. It could make sense, especially when one considered that Legacy Lounge, the bar attached to Legacy Hotel and Casino where the credit card had been used, was owned by Robert Stone.

  “I told you Stone was behind this,” Mark grumbled.

  “You know my policy.”

  “We’ll get your evidence and you’ll make this right—or I will.” The bloodlust in Mark’s tone had grown over the past couple days. He’d run out of patience. But if Loretta was free to spend money and be seen about town, Stone wasn’t holding her against her will. “We should have kidnapped the guy and demanded he take us to Loretta.”

  “That’s not how I work.”

  Mark glared at her. “I was told you knew how to get justice. Maybe they were wrong.” It had to be the exhaustion and fear in his eyes that made him so damn ornery today, so she choked down her anger for the rest of the drive.

  Around noon, they entered Legacy through sleek sliding glass doors into what appeared to be the hub of activity. Skye tilted her head back to gape up at the ornate ceiling fifty feet above them. It was early afternoon and the dome—a clear glass center with silvery constellations etched on it and concentric stained glass panels in dark blue, magenta and purple—sparkled like jewels. The kaleidoscope effect scattered rainbows of light and shadows of constellations across the white marble-tiled rotunda. Stone pillars were placed at regular intervals around the circumference of the rotunda, like numbers on a clock face.

  Straight ahead, beyond a fountain, was a check-in desk and, like spokes on a wheel, hallways that led into the hotel portion of the complex. To her right was a cavernous casino where row after row of gamblers sat on stools, feeding bills into slot machines. Beyond, tables of card games and roulette offered alternate e
ntertainment. To her left was a restaurant with a separate lounge area. Posters indicated the bar offered live entertainment nightly. Everything from live bands to comedians to exotic dancers was featured over the next week.

  “You look in the casino,” she ordered Mark. “I’ll take the lounge.” She needed a few minutes apart from him, anyway. The silence after his suggestion that they should have kidnapped Stone had grown heavier and darker as they’d neared Vegas.

  Without a word, Mark moved toward the casino, and she crossed the marble floor and entered Legacy Lounge. A smiling hostess perched behind a podium offered to find her a table for the lunch buffet through the archway behind her. Though delicious aromas wafted from the award-winning restaurant and made her mouth water, Skye declined. She was more likely to find the information she sought in Legacy Lounge, where Loretta had used the card.

  The restaurant and lounge were furnished in the same dark wood and richly appointed with combinations of dark blue upholstery and pristine white linen tablecloths. Rings of ivy surrounded the tea light candles at each table. She skirted the clusters of chairs and tables, heading to the long bar that extended the length of the back wall. From there, she could see the entire room, the stage where the band was doing a sound check for the evening show, and even some of the rotunda.

  A couple dozen people were seated at the bar and tables, enjoying lunchtime appetizer and drink specials or viewing various sports events—baseball, horse racing, drag racing, golf—on the multiple televisions high on the wall above the racks of alcohol. Small platinum tiles surrounded a long mirror and formed a backdrop. The Legacy name was scrawled in cobalt on a white marble rectangle below the mirror. The entire place bespoke elegance.

  And a megalomaniac, protected by several intense bodyguards, owned it all. Her rooftop soldier was likely back among those sentinels, unless her avoidance behaviors yesterday had cost him his job. A small smile tugged at her lips at the thought. It would serve him right for making her leave her duffel behind. She still had a handgun and a hunting knife that she’d left in the truck, but her stores were sorely depleted until she returned to the ranch.