Page 84 of Strip Search

“That’s going to take a lot of trust,” she said.

“On both our ends. Are you willing to try?”

“Yeah,” she said, but she sounded so heartbroken I wanted to do anything I could to make it up to her. Grier had told me to stay put, but in Carson City I’d only be about an hour flight away. It was just for one night.

“Look, why don’t you get a hotel room at the airport? Once I make sure everything is settled here tonight, I’ll fly in and we can have one more night together.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jackie said.

“I want to.” This was going to be a lean month, with all the money I was throwing around, but I didn’t care. I needed one more night to get me through the long months ahead.

“All right,” she said, perking up. “I’ll call you with the room number.”

After she hung up, I had another glass of the scotch and wondered if that had been the right thing to do. The club needed me to be here. How the crap was I going to explain all of this to Highway and still justify leaving tonight? I knew I had to start trusting my people to do their jobs without me watching over them because I was burning out fast.

“It’s one night,” I said to Johnny Walker. The bottle didn’t answer me back.

“Boss, a couple of cops want to talk to you,” Mav said into my Bluetooth.

Now what?

“Be right there.”

Two of Las Vegas’s finest were standing at the door. It wasn’t a good sign that they weren’t watching the girls. They were watching me, and their hands were on the butts of their pistols. I spread my hands out to my sides to show them I wasn’t carrying anything.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Miles Carvello, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Leonidas Kiryakis.”

“If I wanted that shitbag dead, I wouldn’t have stopped hitting his head on my desk.”

One of the cops winced and said, “Sir, you have the right to remain silent. I suggest you shut the hell up.”

I listened to the rest of the Miranda rights and let them cuff me. “Call Highway and get me bonded out,” I said to Mav as they led me into the police car.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jackie Mitchell

It was the Mondayest of all Mondays.

Miles had ghosted me.

I wouldn’t have believed it was possible after our last conversation. He never showed up at the hotel Saturday night and he hadn’t returned any of my phone calls. After what he saw me go through with Lisa, Miles should have known how much that type of blow-off would hurt me.

I called Dalton’s that night and spoke to someone. They said Miles was busy and that he’d call me back. Yeah, I was busy too. Busy kicking myself for letting a vacation fling get serious. I had to remember it like I did my twenty-first birthday party. We had a great time. We had great sex. And now it was over and that was okay.

New York in January really sucked. It was even worse when we were expecting another snowstorm and my body was wishing I was back in the desert. But instead of lounging on a rooftop bar after being thoroughly sexed, I was at my desk at the Zimmerman Agency. After my long flight, I passed out and slept straight through until my alarm woke me up. There was no way I was going to spend the day moping around my apartment all alone. I took a quick shower and grabbed a bagel from a street vendor as my breakfast. It was damn cold, but at least the food was good.

My mother called almost before I’d finished my first cup of coffee. At least she had waited that long. “Did you find her?” was the first thing out of her mouth.

“Yes. She’s alive and well and producing a show in Carson City.”

“Producing?” my mother squealed. “What type of show?”

“It’s a vaudeville dance show,” I hedged. That was close enough. “She’s been utterly swamped these past few weeks trying to get backers and with the day-to-day management of putting together the event. That’s why she hasn’t had time to return our calls.” I hated covering for Lisa. But I knew this was what my mother wanted to hear. “I wasn’t there for opening night, but I was able to see the show. It was wonderful.”

And it was. I had been proud of Lisa. We had underestimated her. She’d found a way to dance without hurting her knee. She’d found a boyfriend who was kind and supportive. I rubbed the stabbing pain in the center of my chest. I told myself it was heartburn from drinking my coffee.

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