Page 2 of Heathen

The vice president of the New Mexico chapter steps forward. "I urge you to explore the town and listen to the whispers at the blackjack tables. People from out of town are in the know. They're aware of the best place to go for many less-than-legal things, and people love to talk. They love to share the secrets that were whispered to them by others."

"Keep in mind that we never do anything half-cocked," Kid, another original Cerberus member, says as he steps forward. "Intel is vital. Rooster was picked for this team because he's one of the best, so use him in every aspect of your cases."

"The jobs that you'll be working aren't going to be like the jobs you've helped with in South America," Dominic, Kincaid's brother, adds. "These jobs require a hell of a lot more finesse, and keep in mind that each case will require you to work with other agencies. There's a lot of red tape with these types of jobs, and there will come a time when you want to do more but bureaucracy prevents you from doing so. There will be somereally bad shit that you will have to walk away from. Each of you were vetted and picked because of your ability to see past what's right in front of your eyes and consider all options. That's something we're counting on in order to make the Vegas chapter successful."

A quick and easy murmur of agreement comes from each of us. We know what the expectations are. We've been educated on the differences between what we've been doing with them to train and what is expected of us once we're working the domestic cases.

"I have a lot of confidence in you guys," Kincaid says, taking the floor once again. "But if there ever comes a time when you feel like you're drowning and need to take a step back, let me know. We can't help people if we aren't taking care of ourselves. Are there any questions?"

Several of us shift in our seats, but no one voices any concerns.

"Okay then," Kincaid says, turning his back to us so he can face the screen. "This property was bought by Cerberus, and it'swhere you will be living."

The screen shifts from the list of trafficking signs to the front gate of a massive villa. The landscaping alone in such a desert climate has to cost a massive amount of money just to maintain each month.

"Eleven rooms and eleven bathrooms," Kincaid explains as pictures of the interior begin to flash across the screen. "Two-lane bowling alley. Heated pool. Sauna. Hot tubs. This place has it all."

One of the guys whistles at the extravagance of the place, but I'm too in awe of the images in front of me to pull my attention away long enough to figure out who it was.

"It's a pretty extreme place, but we need you guys to have a place to go that gets you away from all the danger, so youdon't have to beonall the damn time," Kincaid continues. "I will advise you that this isn't the place to bring your hookups and would advise against parties or large groups of people coming to the house. It complicates things. Any questions?"

I look over my shoulder at Rooster to find him with a smile on his face as big as the one tugging up the corners of my own mouth.

I can't wait to get to Vegas.

Chapter 2

Kaylee

The corner of my left eye twitches as I take a step back and look at the project that has consumed the majority of today's shift. I hate canned fruit, and the fact that nearly every company that manufactures it does it with way too much syrup makes my stomach turn, but this display was what the owners of this small mom-and-pop grocery store wanted.

The display isn't quite right but I can't figure out what's making it look off-center, despite the fact that I've stacked the cans perfectly.

"Maybe it's the logo making it look weird," I mutter, as I close one eye and shift my position to look at it from a different angle.

"That looks amazing, Kaylee."

I turn and give Mr. Gillis a soft smile. I won't disagree and point out how wonky it looks because he'll only tell me it's perfect. He's one of the kindest men I've met since moving to Las Vegas a couple of years ago. He's a stickler for the rules and lack of punctuality is one of his pet peeves, but since I've always been a timely person, it's never been an issue for me.

"Think you'll have time to work on the cereal display next?"

I pull in a deep breath, lifting my arm to look down at my watch.

I don't want to tell him no because he also has a rule about no overtime, wanting to keep his labor costs as low as he possibly can, but I hate not helping people when they ask.

"My shift was supposed to be over half an hour ago."

His lips form a flat line.

"I covered Meegan's morning shift today," I explain. "On my day off."

I don't bother to mention that it won't get me close to a full forty-hour work week because he'd never allow for it.

"Yes. That's right, dear," he says. "I forgot."

"I can get on it first thing tomorrow when my new shift starts."

"Thank you, dear," he says with a hint of mild disappointment on his old, wrinkled face, before turning and shuffling toward the front of the store.

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