Calculating Desires (The Rockford Security Series Book 4) Read online

  “Yeah, you can send over a frigging math whiz to help me crunch these damned pay out numbers.”

  “You’re a casino. Don’t you already have accountants to do that?”

  Owen inhaled slowly, more to keep from punching a hole through his desk, Hulk-style, at his cousin throwing his own words back in his face. Smartass. “Yes. We do. But I need fresh eyes on this. Pretty sure my own are ready to bleed from looking at these damned reports all night. Like you said before, sometimes people get lucky. But those lucky people usually end up dumping the money right back into the casino’s coffers, or they’ll load it onto their player’s card or take half in payout or something. Whoever’s been taking the house these past couple of weeks hoarded their chips then cashed them—no re-spending, no player’s club. My instincts tell me it could be the same cheater. And maybe that’s Alison, and maybe it’s not.”

  “Have you seen any other suspicious activity on the videos?”

  “Nope. But Alison hasn’t been back since I confronted her last week and believe me, I’ve kept an eye out.”

  “Hmm.” Blake babbled to his lizard pal again, and Owen couldn’t help but snicker. Seems the guy had gone head over heels for his new iguana pal. “Then I guess it’s lucky for you I happen to know where she is right now, huh?”

  “Alison?” Owen straightened. “Where?”

  “I have it from a reliable source she stepped into the Golden Summit Gym near Orleans Square about twenty minutes ago.”

  * * *

  Kick, kick, jab, punch.

  Over and over, Alison repeated her karate kata on a heavy bag hung from the ceiling. She’d earned her blue belt for self-defense, so this was both good practice and a good workout. Double win. Plus, it was a good stress reliever too. Well, most of the time anyway.

  Today, though, she just couldn’t shake the feeling of still being stalked. She bowed then stepped back, allowing someone else the opportunity to practice while she swiped a complimentary towel over the back of her sweaty, tingling neck. She glanced to one side. No one watching her. Glanced to the other side, out the front windows of the gym, and spotted a now familiar figure silhouetted by the bright sunshine.

  Owen.

  Her heart skipped then raced in triple speed.

  In another time, another place, his presence might have been welcome. Now, though, he only spelled imminent danger.

  Is he following me? Is Copernatech close behind?

  Shit.

  Blood hot and adrenaline surging, Alison moved slowly toward the ladies’ locker room, doing her best not to draw attention to herself or her movements. Luckily, he hadn't seen her. She needed to change, needed to squeeze out of the window near the top of the last ladies’ shower stall and head home to pack what few belongings she had left.

  Whoever the hell Owen Rockford truly worked for, he’d gotten too close.

  Which meant her time to escape had officially ended.

  Four

  Later that afternoon, with her bag packed and stashed in a locker at the Amtrak station, Alison lingered outside the Lucky Ace’s side entrance one last time. Coming here again was a risk, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave without saying goodbye to Faye. Friends were a rare luxury these days and Faye had been beyond great. Of course, she’d tried her apartment and even texted first, hoping to catch Faye before her shift, but no luck. So, here Alison stood, with her whole life on the line, gambling everything for one last goodbye.

  After a deep breath for courage, Alison stepped inside and tugged the brim of her dark baseball hat lower over her eyes to conceal her face. Head lowered, she made a beeline for the gaming tables, narrowly avoiding a collision with a group of rowdy senior citizens who’d apparently won big on the quarter slots.

  Hunched inside her oversized black windbreaker, Alison glanced up over the zipped-up collar and spotted Faye working her usual blackjack table about ten feet away. She waited until the last patron moved to an adjacent table, then hurried over to grab Faye by the arm and pull her aside.

  “Hey, I’m working here,” Faye said, shaking off Alison’s grip. “What’s up? And why are you dressed like the Unabomber?”

  Alison looked around quickly. “Sorry, I don’t have time to explain, but I’m leaving.”

  “Leaving? To go where?” Faye’s voice sounded abnormally loud in the quiet alcove.

  “Shhh.” Alison stepped closer, her brows furrowed. “I can’t tell you, but I wanted to say goodbye.”

  “Okay, seriously.” Faye scrunched her nose “You need to cut the superspy crap, Al. What the hell is going on? You can’t just leave Vegas.”

  “I can and I am. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  Her friend watched her for a moment, eyes narrowed, before the color drained from her cheeks. “Oh, my God. You are serious, aren’t you?” Faye pulled her behind a nearby copse of potted ferns. “Alison, I know there’s something in your past you’ve kept hidden and whatever it is, it must be bad. I’m okay with you not telling me if you don’t want to, but running won’t help. Please stay and let me help you, if I can.”

  Touched by the offer, tears of gratitude welled in Alison’s eyes before she blinked them away. It was tempting. Oh so very tempting, but she couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to pull anyone else into this murderous mess. “I appreciate it, Faye. More than I can say, but I can’t. I won’t put you in that kind of danger. I have to go.”

  “Why? Why now?”

  “Someone’s following me.”

  “Who?”

  She hesitated. “Your Mr. Hottie McBody.”

  “Owen?” Faye scoffed. “He’s harmless.”

  “What if he’s not though?” Alison rubbed a shaky hand over her forehead. God, she was exhausted. She couldn’t remember ever feeling more tired in her life—tired of running, tired of hiding—but she couldn’t stop now. Not when her life depended on it. “If he’s not harmless and he is following me that would explain why he showed up at my gym today.”

  “Gym? He followed you to the gym?” Faye frowned, then chuckled. “Oh. That’s not why he followed you.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because…” This time, Faye glanced around before speaking. “He pulled me into his office after you bailed the other day. He thinks you’re cheating the casino.”

  “Cheating?”

  “Yeah, at Blackjack.”

  “Oh.” Well, damn. Alison rankled. What she was doing wasn't cheating. She couldn't help it if she was better at math than most people. Counting cards came as naturally as breathing to a math geek like her, and, while casinos didn't actually like it, it wasn't illegal and certainly not cheating if she was using her own God-given skills. “I’m not. Not really.”

  “I know that.” Faye gave her an exasperated look. “And I told him that too, but it’s his job to investigate. That’s why he followed you. I’m sure of it.”

  Made sense, but it didn’t change the fact that Owen looking into her past could only spell trouble for her future. She dug the toe of her black sneaker into the plush carpet. “Look, it honestly doesn’t matter why he’s doing it. The fact is, he is. I’ve got secrets. Secrets people are desperate to keep that way. Which means, I still have to leave. Actually, I’ve stayed too long here as it is. I should’ve gone a long time ago.”

  “Okay, fine.” Faye reached into the pocket of her uniform vest and pulled out a key. “One more night. Please promise me you’ll stay put one more night.” She peeked through the ferns at her table and cursed. “The floor manager is lurking around my area again. I have to get back, but go to my place.” She grabbed Alison’s hand and pressed the key into her palm. “Let yourself in and wait for me. There’s food in the fridge and wine on the counter. I’ll be home a little after midnight. If you’re leaving, then let’s say goodbye properly, eh?”

  A proper goodbye sounded heavenly at that moment. Plus, her train didn’t leave until early the next morning, so she did have hours to kill. Spending them with Faye would make the up
coming months seem less lonely too. She was so tired of being lonely. Reluctantly, she nodded. “Okay. But only for a few hours.”

  * * *

  By one the next morning, Alison had watched half a season of House Hunters International on Netflix, nibbled her way through two bags of buttered microwave popcorn, and guzzled half of Faye’s bottle of wine. She felt antsy and uneasy and was ready to bolt entirely when the sound of her friend’s key scraped in the front door lock.

  “Hey, girl,” Faye said upon entering. She closed the door behind her and relocked it. “Sorry it took me a bit longer to get here with the traffic. Forgot about the fight tonight at the MGM Grand.”

  Alison swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and crumpled her empty popcorn bag. “No problem. I appreciate you letting me crash here for a couple of hours. I should probably get going though.”

  She pushed to her feet and headed for the trash can in the kitchen. With all the neon colors beaming from Faye’s artwork and furnishing, the place practically glowed in the dark. Not exactly Alison’s more neutral and homey style, but it suited her vibrant friend to a T. “Thanks again for the hospitality.”

  “Nope.” Faye stepped forward and blocked her path. “Not yet. I said we’d have a proper goodbye and I meant it.”

  “Right. Okay.” Alison shuffled from foot to foot, anxious to be on her way. “There’s still wine left.”

  “Good. But I’ve got something more in mind.”

  More? That word never boded well for fugitives. “Honestly, Faye. I really need to get to the Amtrak station and get my stuff and—”

  “And nothing.” Faye grabbed Alison’s arm and pulled her toward the bedroom. “I’ve got plans for you, girlfriend.”

  She tried to pull free, but her friend’s grip was too strong. “Faye, I really can’t.”

  “Like hell. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, right?” She winked then pulled open her closet doors with her free hand and frowned. “Most of my stuff’s too big for you, but there must be something in here we can make work.”

  “Work for what?”

  Faye glanced back, her smile devious. “For Glam, of course.”

  “Glam?” The high-profile karaoke bar was the last place Alison ought to be tonight. “No. Way.”

  “C’mon.” Faye let Alison go and crossed her arms. “What are you, chicken?”

  “No. I’m smart. Why the hell would I go to a club with people looking for me?”

  “Why not? They say the best place to hide is in plain sight.” Faye looked in her closet again then pulled out a royal blue wrap dress and tossed it at Alison. “Try that.”

  “I’m not trying anything.” She tossed the dress on the bed and headed for the front door. “I really need to go. Goodbye, Faye. Thanks for everything. I’ll never forget it.”

  “Not so fast, girlfriend. You owe me.”

  Alison squeezed her eyes shut, her hand on the front door handle. Faye was right. She did owe her. For everything from friendship to rent money during the first few months when she’d run short. Too bad the debt was more than Alison could ever repay. “Please don’t ask me to do this.”

  “Already did. You deserve one night out on the town, a little fun in your dreary life. Let me give you that as your going away present. I’ll even make sure you arrive at the station in plenty of time to catch your train, okay?”

  Much as Alison hated to admit it, it had been far too long since she’d had any fun, time to just act her age instead of having to always be on guard, older, wiser. Faye was right, it would be so awesome to have a few hours as a young, carefree twenty-eight-year-old who sucked at singing and loved to dance again. After all, a few hours wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

  “Okay.”

  Five

  Twelve-fifteen a.m. God, how long have I been staring at these goddamned figures?

  He blinked fast to ease his eye strain. So far, Owen had gone over all the stats for the individual games and yeah, Blackjack showed a higher than usual payout, but then again, so did poker, craps, and the slots. Which meant his late-night accounting session had netted exactly squat when it came to useful intel on his cheater issues.

  He sighed and leaned back in his chair, stretching his stiff shoulders and neck and tossing his pencil on the desk. Alison James was hiding something. Had to be. Now, if only he knew what the hell it was.

  She hadn't been back to the casino and he'd never seen her at the gym Blake had sent him to. Maybe she'd skipped town. That would be good. Then he wouldn't have to deal with her in person and the less Owen had to deal with her in person, the better off he was. Owen had a feeling that dealing with Alison James in person could be dangerous ... and not just to the casino.

  “Any luck?” Blake leaned against the frame of Owen’s open office door, sans lizard. “With the cheater, I mean.”

  “None.” Owen yawned. “Where’s your friend?”

  “I took Henry home a few hours ago. He needed his beauty rest.”

  “Got that right.” He chuckled then shook his head. “The only person Alison James seems to have contact with here is one of my dealers, gal by the name of Faye Wagner. But I’ve already spoken with her too and got nothing.”

  “Hmm.” Blake straightened and checked his watch. “What time does her shift end?”

  “Midnight. About fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Want me to see if I can catch her? Maybe she’ll let something slip you missed. After all, I am known for my charm and persuasion.”

  He waggled his brows and Owen snorted. “Try if you want. Good luck catching her before she leaves though. Most of the dealers can’t wait to get home after their late shifts.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Blake gave him a thumbs-up then disappeared down the hall while Owen went back to his numbers. The next time he glanced up again, another forty-five minutes had passed and he was pretty damned sure he’d be permanently cross-eyed from staring at numbers all night long.

  Work comp covered that, right?

  “Hey,” Blake said, poking his head around the door again.

  “Hey. You catch Faye?”

  “Nope. Already gone. I spoke to a couple of the other dealers instead. Didn’t find out anything new though. Sorry.” Blake took a seat in front of Owen’s desk. For once, the guy actually looked tired, with dark shadows below his icy blue eyes. “Want to grab a beer or something on the way home?”

  “Aw, man, I’d love to,” Owen said, meaning it. “But I can’t. Still got to find something useful in these numbers. Whoever this cheater is, they’re taking us for a metric shit ton of cash. Shelby will have my ass if I don’t put a stop to it soon.”

  “According to my calculations, you’ve already put in well over sixty hours this week. The reason I know this because in addition to our other fine services, Rockford Security also handles the payroll for the casino.” Owen glanced up and Blake gave him a cool smile. “Signed your paycheck myself, cuz, and your overtime borders on criminal.”

  “I know.” Owen raked a hand through his short, brown hair. “Believe me, Shelby’s been on me about that too. Can’t be helped though. All those extra hours are necessary if I’m going to find this crook.”

  “This is personal for you, isn’t it?”

  “Damn straight.”

  Blake gave a curt nod. “Well, trust me on this. Whoever this cheater is, they’ll wait until tomorrow.” He pushed to his feet and straightened his suit jacket, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. “Now, are you coming with me to the bar or do I have to drag you?”

  “Drag me?” Owen scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

  “I might’ve left the force for a few years, but I could still kick your ex-Marine ass, bud. In fact, if I remember right, I’ve kicked your ass many times over the years. Want me to do it again tonight?”

  His tone was amused, but his expression was pure determination. Owen knew that look, all too well. It was the same look that all the Rockfords got when they had an idea an
d intended to see it through no matter what. Hell, it was the same look he saw in his own mirror every morning before he headed to the casino.

  Well, shit. Looked like he’d be getting a drink whether he wanted one or not.

  Resigned, Owen pushed to his feet and grabbed his jacket off the back of his desk chair. “Fine. But just a quick beer. If I’m leaving early, I want to at least try to get some extra sleep.”

  “Okay. How’s your new dog, by the way. What was her name? Pickles?”

  “Peaches. And she’s not my dog. She’s one of the rescues at Shelby’s shelter and she’s trying to match me up with her.” They headed out of the office and Owen secured the door behind them before following Blake down the marble hallway and out onto the casino floor. “She wanted me to take the dog home this past weekend for a trial run, but things didn’t work out. Where are we going anyway? And please don’t say the Lucky Ace bar.”

  “Nope. Thought we’d try a place a couple of blocks from here. It’s within walking distance of the Rockford offices. I’ve been there a couple of times after work.” They headed out into the bustling night and stood at the corner, waiting for the light to change. “I think it’s a good idea.”

  “What?”

  “You having a dog. Henry’s made all the difference for me. I never thought I’d have time to spare, but it works.”

  Owen contemplated the idea the rest of the way to the bar. Shelby sent him even more pictures of Peaches, each with a funny little message or emoji attached. Much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to like them. Hell, earlier today he’d even found himself checking his phone to see if a new one had come in.

  Maybe Blake was right. Maybe having a dog, someone more than himself to care for, would be good. As they stepped up to the door of a place called Glam—all neon bright lights and black painted windows—he stopped and scowled. “This is where we’re going?”

  “Yep.” Blake smiled blandly and opened the door. “It’s fun. You’ll see.”

  “It’s karaoke.”