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

  Perfect. Owen snorted and wrinkled his nose.

  Yep. This is exactly what he deserved for even thinking about playing with fire, or Alison James, again.

  * * *

  Beeeeeeeepppppp.

  One eye squinted open, Owen peered over at the clock on his nightstand. Something warm and heavy lay draped across his chest and the distinct smell of wet fur tickled his nose.

  Fuck.

  He pushed Peaches off him and back onto her side of the bed then reached over to slam off the alarm. God, it couldn’t be six a.m. already. Impossible. It felt like he’d just closed his eyes and…

  A wet tongue in his ear jolted him awake.

  He shuddered and sat up fast only to come face to face with a panting Peaches. She flopped her front paws onto his lap and narrowly avoided unmanning him again. They’d have to work on that if she was going to stick around for a while. He quickly grabbed her feet with his hands, unable to stay angry with her when she was so damned happy all the time. “No more lap punches, okay girl?”

  Peaches licked his face in response then danced around excitedly in circles.

  Right. Potty time. He got up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants he found in a drawer and his dress shirt from the night before then searched the apartment for the dog’s leash and finally found it in the kitchen, alongside a bag of food, a toy, and a note he assumed was from Shelby.

  Yeah, he’d be having words with his boss about using the key he’d given her to his apartment for unlawful doggy drop-offs, but first he needed to get Peaches outside before she had an accident he didn’t want to have to clean up this early.

  Twenty minutes later, they returned and he felt a bit more awake after his dawn sojourn. He started a pot of coffee then set out food and water for Peaches before finally taking a good look around his living room. Well, shit. Gaze narrowed, he stared at the neat rows of family photos hung on the wall over his sofa.

  Apparently Shelby hadn’t been the only one invading his space lately.

  Seems his cousin Liv had taken it upon herself to do some decorating at his place. The coffeemaker beeped and he fixed himself a mug then went in search of what other damage she’d inflicted. The cabinet beneath the sink had been fully stocked with cleaning supplies. A not so subtle hint about his bachelor status.

  Nice. He was clean, if not always tidy.

  Next he moved on to the nearby guest half-bath. A large first aid kit hung from one wall. Okay, that might actually be useful, given his culinary skills—or lack thereof. Couldn’t fault her for that one.

  An hour later, he’d inspected all the other rooms and found no more surprises and still managed to get dressed and ready for work. Stepping back into the kitchen to place his now empty coffee mug in the sink, Owen smiled. Honestly, much as Liv’s meddling bugged him, he did appreciate her efforts to make him feel like part of the family again.

  “C’mon, girl.” He patted his thighs and Peaches scurried over, her nails clacking loud on his hardwood floors. “Ready to see your mommy again?”

  Tongue lolling and eyes bright, the dog stood still while he clipped on her leash again then waited for him to gather up her bowls and food and toy.

  “Good, girl.” Owen scratched her head on the way out the door. “Let’s go find Shelby.”

  Except once he reached the Lucky Ace, Shelby was nowhere to be found.

  Damn. She only came by on designated days, leaving the regular management of the casino to him and a couple of her other most trusted employees. Maybe today wasn’t her day. He took Peaches to his office and closed the door behind them then called Shelby on his phone again. This time she picked up after the first ring.

  “Paws and Play, this is Shelby. How may I help you?”

  “You can help me by picking up your dog so I can get to work.”

  “What are you talking about?” Shelby sounded genuinely surprised.

  Owen wasn’t buying it for a second. “Stop. Just come get Peaches, okay?”

  “Peaches? Seriously, Owen. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Peaches was fostered out to someone else yesterday.”

  “Well, whoever took her decided to drop her off at my place, because she slept in my bed last night.”

  “Lucky girl.”

  “Cut the snark and get over here, all right?”

  As if in agreement, Peaches barked loud and Shelby snickered.

  “Fine. Let me notify her foster first.”

  Suspicion blended with his annoyance. Whoever had filled out the paperwork obviously had a key to his apartment as well, and there were only two people besides himself with that honor. “Who’s the foster?”

  He already knew the answer before she said the words. “Liv.”

  “You know what, I’ll call her myself. I’ve got a few other gifts to thank her for too. This way I can take care of it all with one call. Thanks, Shelby.”

  Owen ended the call then stared at the dog at his feet.

  Marvelous. Now he had two women pushing him toward pet adoption. Three, if you counted the over-enthusiastic Peaches—her expression brimming with please-love-me, gut-wrenching pathetic-ness.

  “Looks like you’re stuck with me a bit longer, girl.” He got out her bowls, filled one with food and the other with a bottle of water from his mini-fridge, then set them off in one corner of his office along with her towel and toy. “Until your Aunty Liv comes to pick you up.”

  With the dog settled, Owen called Liv, only to get her voicemail.

  Christ, aren’t any of these people at work when I need them?

  Exasperated, he left a message then opened his computer and sorted through his e-mails.

  Toward the bottom of the screen he found a new one from Blake listing three new possibilities for the casino’s cheater. There were screenshots of each candidate’s face but little other information, though Blake mentioned some new facial recognition software his company was trying out that would alert Owen when any of the new suspects set foot inside the Lucky Ace.

  Interesting.

  He quickly sorted through the rest of his messages and was ready to close the laptop when a notification dinged. Apparently Blake’s new software worked already. The screen text said one of the suspects, Greg Walpole—mid-thirties, stocky build, dark hair, beard—had entered the casino moment earlier.

  Time for some hands on investigation.

  Adrenaline pumping, Owen pushed to his feet and straightened his suit jacket before heading for the door. Except once he stepped outside, Peaches barked loud and scratched at the door.

  Ugh. This is not good for business. Not at all.

  Reluctantly, he went back inside and grabbed her leash, clipping it on before leading her out the door. Surprisingly, she stayed at his side, not pulling at all like she usually did but heeling right next to him like a pro.

  Together, they headed out onto the casino floor and soon located Walpole at the gaming tables, his dealer clearly under the weather—judging by the guy’s constant cough and greenish complexion. Owen and Peaches stuck to the shadows, wanting only to observe and learn the guy’s tells, to see if he displayed any cheating types of behavior. Not long after he’d taken up his position, however, in came Faye with a clearly-hungover Alison in tow.

  Faye headed directly for Walpole’s table and pulled the sick dealer aside before taking his place behind the table. She’d apparently been called in as reinforcement, which was good considering the other dealer looked like he barely had the energy to haul his sick ass home.

  The bulk of Owen’s attention, though, rested solely on Alison, despite his resolve not to dwell on her any longer. His interest really piqued when she tried to leave the table and Walpole blocked her way. Seeing some stranger, a possible low-life, putting the moves on her sent Owen’s protective instincts skyrocketing.

  Not to mention she looked like death warmed over, her pale skin shadowed and her pretty green eyes tired and puffy. Despite the warm day, she wore a tee-shirt, black jacket and jeans. She wa
s obviously not feeling well and all this asshole seemed to want to do was get in her pants. Alison shook her head and stepped away from the guy, but he still persisted.

  Hands clenched at his sides, Owen practically snarled along with Peaches as the guy reached for Alison again. The guy took her arm and Alison winced and that was enough.

  Time to kick some fucking ass.

  Before Owen had time to intervene, however, Peaches launched forward, barreling full-tilt straight for Walpole and Alison. Owen strode behind, feeling every bit as menacing as the dog.

  As they approached, Alison’s eyes widened and Walpole stepped back, releasing her to raise his arm in defense. “What the fuck is going on? Is that thing rabid?”

  Peaches growled low.

  “Sit, girl.” Owen never took his eyes off the guy for a second as the dog settled obediently at his feet. “She’s part of our new casino security. Is there a problem with that, Mr.?”

  Expression belligerent, Walpole stormed off moments later without answering.

  “Good girl,” Owen said, watching as Peaches walked over and nudged Alison’s hand. She knelt to pet her, seemingly unafraid despite the dog’s earlier display of aggression toward Walpole. “I think she likes you.”

  Alison looked over at him, silent, before straightening.

  Peaches returned to his side and plopped a wallet down at his feet.

  Frowning, Owen picked it up and noticed Alison’s driver license stuck in the front. Her birthdate was listed, along with her address. He quickly memorized both before handing it back. “Sorry about that. She’s still new.”

  “Right.” Alison shoved the wallet back in her jacket pocket then glanced from him to Faye. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Heading home?”

  “Yeah, I need to unpack.”

  “See you later then?” Faye asked, her tone hopeful.

  Alison looked back at Owen, a slight flush coloring her pretty cheeks now. She lowered her head and gave a slight nod. “Yeah. See you later.”

  “Great.” Faye perked up and grinned at Owen. “How are you this fine day, Mr. Rockford?”

  “Good, Faye.” Alison left the casino while Peaches batted Owen on the leg, eager for attention. Thanks to his new canine companion, he now had a way to find out more about his mysterious beauty. “Really good, thanks.”

  As he and Peaches walked back to his office, Owen started to think maybe having the dog around wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.

  Seven

  Later that afternoon, Alison sat in the Greyhound bus station waiting for her ride. She’d quickly repacked all her stuff at Faye’s, stopped at her own apartment and left a note for Ms. Baker that she'd gotten a good job opportunity and would be moving and not to worry. She left a check to cover two months’ rent mostly because she didn't want to short Ms. Baker, but also in case Copernatech traced her. She wanted to throw them off track and make them think she was still in town. Then she made a beeline for the bus station. Since she’d used—or almost used—the train before, she opted for the bus this time. Changing up her game would hopefully throw Copernatech off her scent.

  She flipped through the pages of the latest celebrity tabloid and tried to think optimistically about her future, no matter how desolate things seemed at present. Loneliness clung to her like a wet blanket, but she couldn’t stay.

  Things had gotten far too close for her comfort.

  The overhead P.A. system crackled to life and a woman’s voice reverberated from the speaker in the corner. “Attention passengers, Bus number two-oh-nine to Dallas/Fort Worth now boarding at platform number six. Thank you.”

  Alison draped her purse across her body then reached for her duffle, feeling the buzz of her phone inside. Swearing, she pulled it out as she headed toward the exit, then stopped short. Several passengers jostled her while she stared at the screen. The one-word on the first line of the message from Faye chilled her blood:

  S.O.S.

  NEED HELP AT LUCKY ACE

  Fuck.

  She stepped off to the side, out of the way of the other busy travelers, and scowled. Faye was the closest friend she’d had in a long time, maybe ever. And Faye knew Alison’s urgency to get out of town as quick as possible, if needed. She wouldn’t send this as a casual joke or a ploy to get her to stay. No. Something was definitely wrong. She scrolled through, but found no other messages from her friend.

  Alison quickly ran the probabilities in her head. Owen suspected her of cheating, but no one had given any sign of knowing about her past with Copernatech. And her secret contact had given her the all-clear as far as her cover was concerned. It was fairly safe here still and Faye was the closest thing she'd had to a real friend in a long time.

  I’ll stay and help Faye because she’s right. I owe her. Just this once, I’ll stay.

  Decision made, she hustled out of the bus station and headed for the line of cabs waiting at the entrance instead. Her top-tier ticket was transferrable to another date—unlike the train ticket where she’d had to eat the cost. Lesson learned. If things went south again, she’d come back and catch the next Greyhound and zoom out of town faster than a roadrunner on speed.

  Climbing into the back of a bright yellow taxi, she gave the driver the Lucky Ace’s address then slumped back in her seat for the short ride to the casino.

  A short time later, the driver swerved to the curb. Alison paid her fare then bustled into the casino and straight for the tables, except… no Faye.

  Well, shit.

  “Have you seen Faye Wagner?” she asked, stopping one of the other dealers.

  “Mr. Rockford took her to see the owners,” the guy said, his frown as dark as his tone.

  Dread bubbled like toxic sludge through her system. This job was Faye’s life. If she lost it, then… Alison swallowed hard and forced a polite smile, trying to remain calm. “Do you know why?”

  “Not sure. Neither of them looked too happy though.”

  “Thanks.” Alison headed for the hallway where she and Owen had their sexy-times interlude earlier. Surely he couldn’t suspect Faye of any wrongdoing. She’d been a faithful employee at the Lucky Ace for years. She’d never do anything wrong. She was honest and fair and kind and…

  “I’m sorry ma’am,” a beefy security guard said, blocking her entry. “You can’t go back there.”

  She seriously considered karate kicking him into tomorrow, but given his size and her luck today, he’d probably fall on her and crush her. Reluctantly, Alison started to walk away until the sound of nails scratching on a door echoed down the hall, followed by a distinct canine whine. Alison snorted and glanced back to the guard. “Sounds like someone has to go outside. Better take her out before she makes a mess. I’m sure the owners wouldn’t appreciate doggy doo-doo all over their brand new carpeting, huh?”

  The guard didn’t budge.

  Great. Time to come up with another plan.

  She slipped into a secluded alcove along the wall behind some slots for privacy to think. From here, she still had a good view of the hall entrance, so when the guard did leave his post several minutes later, she waited with avid interest. Soon, he returned with Owen Rockford’s dog in tow. Apparently her suggestion had worked better than she thought.

  Smiling, she waited until both the guard and the dog had disappeared outside then headed for the hallway once more. Time was short so she wasted no time and went directly to the office door marked Owen Rockford, Head of Casino Security. Voices drifted out through the heavy wood door. One of them she recognized as Owen’s. The other was definitely Faye’s, but she couldn't quite hear what they were saying. It sounded like they were inside an inner office. Maybe this door led to a hallway...if she could just get into the hallway, she could hear what was going on...

  A keypad glowed from the wall, beside a card reader. Maybe…

  Alison exhaled onto the keypad then squinted, making note of the fingerprints. Next, she scanned the numbered keypad to find the most worn digit. We
ar indicated the first digit in the sequence, given the user’s skin would retain the most oils and erode the ink faster on that key. Finally, based on the fingerprints she’d seen and the first number, six configurations were possible. More than she’d hoped, but it was better than nothing.

  Now, if she hurried, she could find the right combination before the guard got back or the in-house IT guys got wise. Punch, punch, punch. No, no, no. She made it through three combos and started on a fourth when the door flew open to reveal a decidedly grumpy Owen.

  He glanced from the keypad to her, one eyebrow raised. “Most people knock.”

  Alison straightened and held herself as regally as possible under the circumstances. “Most people issue a warning before they abduct other people’s friends.”

  “Abduct?” His flat tone was the verbal equivalent of an eye-roll. “Faye’s hardly kidnapped. She’s my employee. I’m questioning her as part of an ongoing security investigation. Fully within my right and the law.”

  She sent me an S.O.S. Why S.O.S.?

  Before she could respond, another female voice called out from inside the office. “Who is it, Owen?”

  “No one important.”

  Owen started to close the door in Alison’s face, but she wedged a foot inside to stop him then took advantage of his surprise to squeeze inside. Faye was seated in front of Owen’s desk along with another woman she didn’t recognize. There was another man in there too, the same height as Owen but lankier and tougher.

  Looked like that guy had been through some hard times, just like her.

  Faye frowned, nose wrinkled. “Al?”

  Summoning her courage and her outrage, Alison crossed her arms and held her ground, the heavy duffle slung over her shoulder making her muscles ache. “What’s going on here?”

  Mr. Tough Guy moved in front of the strange blonde woman, his protection of her written in every tense line of his body. “Depends on who you are.”

  “I’m a friend of Faye’s.”

  The blonde shooed her protector out of the way then smiled at Alison. “That must be her. The girl Blake told us about.”