Hard Pursuit Page 6
She needed a distraction.
One was right there in front of her.
Her attention went to the silk tie, folded and draped over Trey’s thigh. She wasn’t one given to kink, but ideas flashed through her mind, soothing her jangled nerves.
She wasn’t sure what it was about the man, but she felt safer with him, his aura calming her even as it stroked her desire, tempting her to make a move on him.
There wasn’t time for that. At least, not right now.
Ally cleared her throat. “I’ve got a meeting with the accountants this evening to look over the preliminary results of their audit. They’re sworn to secrecy—I impressed on them the importance of keeping quiet. The last thing we need right now is any rumor about our financial status.” She forced down the flutter of panic in her belly. “No matter how little damage he’s done, it’ll cause people to think twice about working with Sheldon Construction. We can’t afford that.”
“What are you going to tell your parents? At some point, they’re going to find out, whether you like it or not. You can keep it from the public and the other companies, but…”
“Depends on what the final picture is—that’ll take a bit more time, after I get a better view of what’s happened. That’s the best we can do until Vincent comes back and we can convince him to tell us all the details.” She tried to suppress a sigh and failed. “I’m afraid to think of what else he’s done and gotten away with.”
She spotted Trey stiffening beside her, his hand pressing against his leg. His reaction was easy for her to read, with her instincts honed by years of learning how to tell what people were thinking and feeling.
He was upset every time Vincent came up in conversation. There was something there, something beyond his general annoyance at her brother’s attitude toward drinking and partying.
Ally held back the questions bubbling up inside her. Trying to interrogate Trey wouldn’t result in anything other than a fight—something she didn’t need or want to get into right now.
When he’s ready, he’ll talk.
…
Trey bit the inside of his cheek, holding back his reply.
This was what Dylan had warned him about, and why he had to be certain, far past definite, of what Vincent was guilty of before he threw this at Ally.
He had to be.
The car stopped in front of the hotel. The driver came around to open the door for his passengers.
Ally got out first, clutching her briefcase. “Thanks again for your help.”
“No problem.” Trey followed her lead, coming around from the other side of the car. “I’ll get back in touch with Dylan to see how things are going.”
They walked through the lobby, now busy with people—a stark contrast to what they’d seen last night. “I hope Vincent comes up for air soon. How long can one man stay drunk?”
He glanced at his phone again. “We’re doing all we can to find him.”
“I know. I appreciate everything you’re doing.” She touched his arm. “You must be exhausted.”
“It’s barely afternoon.”
“Yes, but you hit the ground running and with little sleep.” She tapped her temple. “I’m working on the same timeline as well, and I’m going down for a nap as soon as I can. Why don’t you rest in Vincent’s suite? It’d help with the illusion that he’s still around. Edgar’s been doing what he can to cover, but he’s preoccupied with the hunt. It wouldn’t have to be much—take a shower and use up the towels, order in room service, put the plates outside in the hall for pickup afterward. Later on, we’ll have housekeeping clean the room and keep the game going.”
Trey rolled his shoulders. “I can do that. I’ll stay out of your way, promise.”
“Don’t.” She smiled. “It’s nice to have you nearby. You’ve been a great help.”
The elevator doors opened, and they walked down the hall. Ally opened the center door, allowing them onto neutral ground.
“Edgar just texted me—he’s circling back for a break. I know and he knows it’s a long shot that he’s going to find Vincent, but he feels responsible. I don’t want or need him to be feeling even worse about the situation.”
Trey nodded at her, glad to see some color in her cheeks. The presentation had turned out to be a much-needed distraction from worrying about her brother.
His grip tightened on the loose silk tie in his hand, his mind drifting to better distractions.
He pushed the thought away.
There might be a time and a place for that, but not here and now.
“I’ll see you later,” Trey said as he went into his/Vincent’s suite.
“You will.” Ally stepped into the other room.
Trey eyed the room. He hadn’t given it much attention before, too busy searching the laptop for clues. After that, he’d been dealing with Edgar as the former bodyguard fussed over Trey’s dress shirt and tie, making sure the dark brown suit fit perfectly, even though it’d only be for a few hours.
He yawned, the events of the past day begin to weigh on him. He’d gone from working the computer banks on his seemingly never-ending search for a killer to playing dress-up for a rich woman. His eyes ached from staring at the screen, and he was hungry, their breakfast earlier only a fond memory.
Trey studied the empty bed. He wasn’t keen on sleeping, but his mind was fuzzy, and he’d be no good on the keyboard without a bit of rest.
A quick shower, a light meal from room service, and he crawled between the clean sheets, trying hard not to think of Ally.
Which, of course, was impossible.
As soon as his eyes closed, he saw her, curled up on the sofa and sleepy.
Trey growled in his half-sleep, hungry for the chance to touch her.
A dark shadow fell over his imaginary scenario, and he looked up to see Vincent Sheldon standing next to her.
The remembered roar of the racing car tore through Trey’s mind, matched with the quick shove from his friend that sent him flying into the nearby brick wall. Then came the sickening thud of Nick’s body hitting the sidewalk.
He woke with a start, sweating and panting as he fought to catch his breath. He rubbed a hand over his soaked head, fingers scratching his scalp to help bring him back down to earth.
Trey lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. He needed justice. Nick needed justice.
But the price…
…
She’d slept, but not well. Between exhausted naps, she lined up all the issues in priority, with Vincent alive and well at the start and his possible embezzlement further down the list.
Trey wasn’t much further away, her clouded thoughts shuffling him back and forth.
The rest carried her through to dinner—a club sandwich and soda from room service as she dealt with the accountants in an online meeting room. She’d had to fill them in on Vincent’s disappearance to explain the circumstances under which they’d accessed his laptop, swearing them to silence.
“So, how bad is it?” Ally kept her voice level, trying to hide the panic growing in her mind. The kernel of fear planted by Trey’s discovery had grown into a mighty oak tree, sweeping everything away.
The three men looking at her back through the screen glanced at each other before speaking.
“We’re still working our way through, but the preliminary results show it’s not terminal.” The first accountant adjusted his glasses. “We can recover, but it’ll take time.”
“Public relations nightmare,” the other man said, seated at the far end of the table. “If word gets out—”
“Then we make sure it doesn’t. The story, if anyone finds out and asks, is that we had an internal review and found some money had been misplaced, shuffled into the wrong accounts. If anyone wants anything deeper, they have to come to me. We keep this quiet, and we keep this under wraps from everyone.” She eyed them one at a time. “Including my parents. They don’t need to know about this, at least, not yet.”
The first man g
ave a slow nod. “But…”
“Our cover story for the time being is that Vincent’s out of commission with a stomach bug.” She rapped the edge of her pen on the tabletop. “I don’t need to tell you what will happen if this information gets out.”
“Understood,” he said before glancing at the other two men. “I hope he comes back soon.”
“You’re not the only one.” Ally gathered her notes. “Thank you for your hard work. I know you weren’t prepared for this, and I appreciate you putting in the extra hours to deliver this report.”
The youngest man cleared his throat. “I have to say, I’ve no idea how this got by us.” He turned to his peers, shaking his head. “This was going on for months, years. How did we all miss it?”
The two older men sat in silence, staring at their laptops and the ledgers spread out across the boardroom table.
“I can tell you why.” She got to her feet, the other men rising to join her in a show of courtesy. “Vincent’s always been able to do anything he wanted because he’s good at what he does when he puts his mind to it, and we’ve benefitted from that skill, looked the other way. That’s how he hid this away, so deep it took his disappearance and a damned good hacker to dig it out. Things are going to change when he comes back.”
Ally terminated the discussion, jabbing at the keyboard to disconnect.
She leaned back in the chair and checked the clock.
It’d been barely twenty-four hours since she’d landed in Las Vegas to find her adopted brother.
In that short time, the world had come down around her ears.
She picked up a quarter of the club sandwich and nibbled, wondering what else could go wrong.
The phone rang, fulfilling the curse.
Chapter Nine
“Yes, yes.” Ally pressed her palm against her forehead, trying to stave off the migraine threatening to manifest behind her right eye. “I’d forgotten. Tomorrow it is, bright and early.”
She hung up and stared at the laptop screen, trying to make sense of the letters and numbers.
A gentle knock came at the door.
“Come in,” Ally said.
Edgar pulled the door open, resting his hands on each side of the entrance. “I heard the phone ring.”
She eyed him, raising one brow. “Wasn’t him.”
The veteran didn’t let out a sigh or any other indication of his frustration. “Oh. Right then. With your permission, I’m going to go back out and see if I can pick up his trail. Grabbed a shower and a clean shirt, so I’m ready to go again.” He held up a hand, cutting off her reply. “Jessie’s out there, along with her other associates. I can’t stay in here and brood.” He hesitated. “So, who was on the phone?”
“The hospital, verifying tomorrow’s visit.” She gestured at the laptop. “The NICU tour and subsequent donation from Sheldon Construction.”
“Do you want to try and reschedule it?” Edgar asked.
“No.” She waved him off. “Easy public relations visit. I’m much better suited for it, anyway. Vincent would pout and appear bored all the way through.” She eyed him. “How does that work with your schedule?”
Edgar hesitated. “I’d much rather keep hunting for Vincent. But if you need me…”
“I can come with you.”
Ally turned to Trey, standing in the doorway behind Edgar.
His sleepy grin set her imagination afire. He stood there in only his jeans, barefoot and bare-chested.
Her heart skipped a beat, building a hundred scenarios around that smile.
She blinked herself awake and out of the dream.
Edgar looked over his shoulder at Trey then back at her. “That’d work. I’ll lay out some of Vincent’s clothing.”
“Hold that thought.” Trey smiled. “I’ve got some suits that’ll do the job. I’m going to drive home and grab them, along with my bathroom kit and some clean underwear.” The grin expanded. “I’m not a big fan of going commando.”
Ally swallowed hard, shoving back the naughty images in her head. She had to be overtired, exhausted from all the stress as of late. It was too easy to play Trey as a possible romantic interest, a welcome release from worrying about Vincent.
That’s all there was to it. Lust built out of stress.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Trey said. He held up the room’s keycard. “I’ll let myself in. Don’t open the door to anyone else. Just to be sure.”
He earned an approving nod from Edgar.
Ally waved the two men away.
She needed a hot shower and then time to deal with the workload she’d brought with her from New York. Vincent might be missing, but the company went on without him.
Had to go on without him.
…
It didn’t take Trey long to pack the suits and an overnight bag, tossing in his bathroom kit along with a few changes of casual clothing. Years of military training had taught him how to do so efficiently and quickly, ready to go.
The emotional baggage, however—that was a different situation.
Dylan was right to warn him to be careful. He might like Ally Sheldon and be attracted to her, but he was about to run through a minefield dragging chains like Marley in A Christmas Carol.
His phone rang as he headed out to his truck. The sun was setting, dipping between the buildings dotting the Las Vegas skyline.
“Hey.” It was Jessie’s voice. “How’s Ally doing?”
“Fine. Where are you?” Trey tossed the duffel bag into the back.
“Heading out to some of the smaller casinos in the area. I’ve got a standing request at the LVPD to let me know if anyone comes in, alive or dead, matching his description.”
Trey started the engine and put the truck in gear. “I’d much rather have the first.”
“So would I. I’m thinking he got into some private games, took his business out of the casinos. Those games usually head out of Vegas, away from the hotels—they frown on that sort of thing. Vincent must have taken one large withdrawal before leaving, since we haven’t had a hit on the credit or debit cards yet.”
“Probably.” Trey pointed the truck toward the hotel. “Hope he wasn’t mugged somewhere along the way. Showing off a thick wallet at any of the tables could have gotten him some unwanted attention. Farther he gets from the casinos, more likely he’s going to get into trouble.”
“We’ll see.” There was a pause, uncharacteristic for Jessie. “Dylan told me you’re staying there at the hotel. Helping out.”
“Nothing big. Ally needed someone to stand by her at a meeting today, play the strong silent type. Tomorrow she’s visiting a hospital—charity thing.”
“Yeah, Dylan brought me up to speed. Just be careful. Don’t get in too deep.”
“I won’t,” Trey said, taken aback by the emotion in her voice. “Just bodyguard work, freeing Edgar up to help find Vincent. He knows the bastard’s tricks, and if he gets to him first, it might calm the jerk down, make him easier to bring back.”
“I’ve got my cuffs.”
He heard the familiar clang of metal on metal.
Trey laughed. “Dylan know you took his favorite toy out of the bedroom?”
The playful curse had him grinning as he turned the corner.
The good mood dissipated, though, by the time he returned to the hotel room, his focus on Vincent Sheldon.
That thought rushed to the back of his mind as he opened the door to the general area between the two suites. Ally was curled up on the couch wearing a baggy T-shirt and sleep pants as she flipped through a binder.
She looked up with a smile. “That was fast.”
He held up the duffel bag. “Wasn’t much—and I don’t live that far away.”
She propped her head up with one hand. “What’s it like living here? I guess the urge to hit the casinos all the time has to be a problem.”
“Not so much. You go in a lot at first for the novelty, then after a while, they merge into the background—just a
nother form of entertainment like the nightclubs and the shows. Now I don’t even bother—after all, the odds are always for the house, and I’d rather keep my money.” Trey walked past her to drop the bag just inside the door to Vincent’s suite. “You live in New York City—how often do you think about visiting the Statue of Liberty?” He moved back to stand by the couch.
“Point taken. You ever been to New York?”
The imaginary punch to his heart almost sent him back a step. “Once.”
She eyed him, her forehead furrowed.
“I’ve got work to do.” Trey jabbed a thumb at the next room. “What time do you want to leave for the hospital?”
“Eleven. I’ll be up early, doing work here. It’s a low-key visit, but I feel it’s important for us to go.” She paused. “Edgar’s afraid I’m a target, that I need protection. You still think Vincent was kidnapped and I could be next?”
“Unlikely but possible.” He rested his hand on the back of the chair in an attempt to settle his nerves. “You’re right that the lack of a ransom note points toward Vincent leaving voluntarily, but discovering the embezzlement changes things. Could be he got picked up by someone he owed money to, could be some issue we still don’t know about. I can’t blame Edgar for wanting to be careful when he comes to protecting you. He feels guilty for losing Vincent in the first place. I’d feel the same way and would want to be out doing something but make sure you were safe first.”
She pulled her lips into a tight line, the simple gesture sending his pulse skyward. “I guess so.” Her attention returned to the pages in her lap. “Meet you in the morning for breakfast.”
He accepted the dismissal with a quiet sigh of relief and headed into the suite next door. It took a few minutes to order up a light late-night snack of cheese and crackers via room service, instructing the waiter to leave it at the hall door—in keeping with the deception they’d created to cover Vincent’s disappearance. Food poisoning would cover a variety of sins, but not if he ordered the Big Belly Buster Burger Platter.
Edgar came in around eleven o’clock, his muted cursing accompanying him into Trey’s suite.
“Nothing.” He grunted. “Damn man’s up and disappeared.”