Lucky Break (50 page)

Lost in negotiating with the shyster glass company that wanted a fortune to make the front entrance look presentable—a replacement for the custom glass door would take weeks—I didn’t notice Eddie V until he pounced.
 

“You owe me.”
 
He shook a finger under my nose, which was like waving a lit match close to a fuse.
 
“You promised Irv Gittings.”
 
He gestured dramatically around the lobby, gathering an audience.
 
“I don’t see him,” he said, using the exaggerated cadence of a nursery rhyme.

The Glock rested warm against my stomach.
 
I really wanted to shoot him.

“And now Teddie’s run.”
 

“You don’t know that.”
 
I didn’t feel inclined to letting him in on the facts as I knew them.

Giving me a smirk like he knew something I didn’t, he leaned in close.
 
“I believe you promised the judge you’d make sure he stayed around to face the charges against him.
 
The judge is going to be super pissed.”

I thought Eddy understated.
 
But he knew that.
 
He looked like he was enjoying this far too much.

I left the gun where it was and whirled on Eddy V.
 
“Look, you little parasite, I’ll bring you your man.
 
We didn’t set a time frame.
 
So, do what you need to do, but get the hell out of my hotel.”

He cowered but kept a shred of backbone.
 
“Sure, fine.
 
Then you and me, we’re going to be neighbors.
 
Unless the judge finds you in contempt or something.”

I didn’t think a broken promise was contemptible, but I wasn’t well versed in judge’s powers.
 
“Get out, Eddy.”

“Sure.
 
Sure.”
 
He straightened his ugly jacket, then ran a hand over his slicked back hair.
 
“You know Freddy?”

Something in his voice stopped me from breaking his nose.
 
“Yeah. What about him?”

“Your boyfriend, the one with the ankle candy, he paid him a visit.
 
Ordered some new docs, if you get my drift.”

My heart sank; I got his drift.
 
A new ID.
 
Teddie had planned to leave.
 
But why?
 
And then it hit me: the one thing he could do to make things right was to catch Irv and bring him back.

Teddie.
 
My music man.
 
Against Irv Gittings, Kim Cho and God knew who else.

 
My eyes went all slitty.
 
“You got a name?”

“You friend is now known as Ima True.”

I burst out laughing.
 
Of course he’d run as woman.
 
And he’d just let me know I was right—he had a plan, not a good one, but a plan.

I prayed Metro would find them both and soon.

And it frustrated the hell out of me that I couldn’t do anything to help.
 
I had no idea who was leading whom and where they’d go.
 
I knew Teddie would get word to me, he had to.
 
So, for now, all I could do was wait.

And show up at a very important wedding, assuming it was still on.

As far as I knew, nobody had called it off, but it was anybody’s guess what or who we’d find when we showed up.

Either way, I planned to be happy, to celebrate.

Now, what did I have to wear?

I didn’t have long to ponder that imponderable.
 

Romeo burst through the door.
 
“We’ve got a problem.”

“I hate it when you do that.
 
Nothing good ever comes of it.”

I hated being right.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“W
E’VE got a dead guy in Mr. Cho’s bungalow,” Romeo announced, his breath coming in gasps.
 
“One of his.
 
Everybody’s gone.”

The same thought propelled us as we both turned and ran.
 
They were running, and Mr. Cho was their ticket out. And Irv was leaving as part of Mr. Cho’s team.
 
But where did that leave Teddie?
 
I shut my mind to the possibilities.

“Where’s his plane?” Romeo asked, as he slipped into the passenger seat in the Ferrari.

“Right around the corner.
 
McCarran.”

He got on his phone to rally the troops as I negotiated the throng of milling runners.
 
The Strip was still closed to traffic.
 
We were stranded in a sea of people.
 
“We gotta run for it.”

Romeo and I bolted, leaving the car marooned.
 
I did remember to take the keys.
 
The north end of the airport was only a couple of blocks away, but it seemed an eternity.

“Any idea how long they’ve been gone?” I huffed at Romeo.

“Long enough.”

And if they’d been smart enough to call and have the plane ready, the engines spooling up, we’d miss them.

We rounded the fence, raced across the parking lot, then skidded into the FBO.
 
No cops yet. I guessed they’d found the same traffic as we had.
 

One bored gal sat behind the counter.
 
She tried to perk up, but she didn’t pull it off.
 
I got it.
 
I wanted to tell her I hadn’t had a vacation or a holiday in decades, but I didn’t have the time, and didn’t think it would make her feel better.

Romeo took the lead, flashing his badge, which was great, because I had no air left to talk.
 
“Chinese diplomat and his contingent?”

“Taxied out ten minutes ago.”

“Are they still on the field?” I managed to gasp.

The girl looked at Romeo.
 

“Call the tower,” he barked.

She jumped and did as he asked.
 
She gave them the tail number.
 
Covering the mouthpiece, she said to us, “First in line.
 
Cleared to go.”

“Stop them,” Romeo ordered.

She spoke quickly into the phone.
 
“Stop them.
 
The cops are here.”
 
She listened, then slowly hung up the phone as a plane roared overhead.
 
“Too late.”

Romeo reached across her desk and grabbed the manifest.
 
He scanned quickly then looked up, meeting my gaze with worried eyes.
 
“Everyone else in Mr. Cho’s group is accounted for.
 
No additions other than Kimberly Cho.”

“So Irv is masquerading as the dead guy and Kim’s paperwork would be in order as she is a Chinese citizen and travels to Macau frequently.”
 
They’d thought of everything.

But where was Teddie?

As if he could read my mind, Romeo put a hand on my arm.
 
“Don’t worry, we’ll find him.
 
He’s got to be here somewhere.”

Yes.
 
But was he alive?

CHAPTER TWENTY

M
Y job came with a few perks—the long hours and getting shot at were not two of them.
 
But being able to call the boutiques in the Bazaar and have salespeople rush over, arms laden with beautiful finery, was most definitely one of the best.
 
It took a couple of hours, but finally I had the bare bones of a functional wardrobe.
 

But even the retail therapy couldn’t put a dent in my worry.

I missed Teddie, missed his eye; he really could dress a woman.
 
And undress her, if memory served. I thought he’d approve of my choices.
 
Alone for the moment, I wandered to the windows in my new apartment.
 
Vegas spread at my feet, the Strip stretching north to the horizon like Dorothy’s yellow-brick road.
 
Teddie had shared my emerald vision of Vegas; then he’d found another Oz.
 
He kept telling me he’d come back, realized his mistakes.
 
But he didn’t understand that coming back was not the same as never leaving.

His absence carved a piece of my history away.
 
Bottom line, I missed him, all of him—his talent, his sense of humor, the way he got me.
 
We’d been the best of friends.
 
And I had yet to truly mourn the loss.

And now he was gone.
 
Maybe dead.

My heart broke as I tried to hold myself together.
 

I had to keep believing he’d be okay.
 

With old lovers, I guessed folks could mourn them, resent them, wish they’d been different, wish you had.
 
But lovers carve a piece of your heart to take with them and fill the hole with a bit of their own.
 
I worked to find my smile and focused on what I could do right now.
 
Now I could be a friend.

Miss P deserved that.

Showered, dressed, and coiffed, with face appropriately painted, I tucked my feet into a pair of strappy silver Jimmy Choos, the only pair of fancy shoes to have survived.
 
They’d been secreted in my desk drawer at the office for dress-up emergencies.
 
Before I headed out, I took a quick look in the mirror.
 
Somehow, I looked like a more-adult version of me.
 
Light brown hair softly curling on my shoulders, blue eyes accented by angled bangs, high cheekbones Mona always took credit for, I looked like me, but something had changed.
 
Something subtle.
 
Peace—no contentment—had settled into my features, smoothing the worry.
 
I liked the look.
 
Smoothing down my new silver sheath that crossed one shoulder then delicately touched my curves, ending in a hem shorter in the front, I delighted in the new style for the new me.

Tucking my keycard in my bra, making sure it didn’t show, I left my purse, my phone and my gun.
 
Tonight it was my turn to be a friend.
 

Christmas greeted me when I stepped from the elevator into the lobby.
 
A great tree festooned with gold … I loved gold … regal below the Chihuly glass, which looked like an explosion of colorful fireworks.
 
Apparently the foreman had relented and let the decorating crew start early.
 
They had tucked Christmas into every corner with small trees laced with lights.
 
Garlands wound around all the desks.
 
Even the music reflected the season.

Our official opening still a week away, I probably could’ve ignored Christmas.
 
We’d have to take the decorations down by New Year’s anyway or Mona would faint, sure we all were going to perish of some superstitious peril.
 
But this was my home now, or one of them, and Christmas was big for me.
 

I’d managed to arrive ten minutes early so I took the time to wander, savoring, moving the knickknacks, straightening pictures that didn’t need it, and rearranging furniture an inch one way or the other, claiming my space, putting my little mark on it.
 
On the second pass around the tree still looking for something that needed tweaking, I spied an envelope, my name scrawled in a familiar hand on the front, tucked in the branches.
 
Teddie.

I read the lines twice:

My dearest Lucky,

By now, I’ve gone.
 
Don’t try to find me.
 
I don’t know if I will come back, but I will send you an important package.
 
Knowing you, you won’t be angry and you’ll find a way to not hate me.
 
Perhaps you should.
 
I’ve let you down in every way possible.
 
I’m sorry, so sorry, for everything.
 
Know that I take you with me in my heart and you will always be my true love, and the one who got away.

Yours,

Ted

He was alive!

Warmth and hope rushed through me.
 

I carefully refolded the note and stuffed it back in the envelope.
 

An important pack
age.
 
Irv Gittings.

Teddie would try to head to Macau.
 
Should I alert the authorities, wise them up to his ruse?
 
Teddie would be pissed, but telling the police was the only way to keep him alive.

A kiss behind my right ear fractured logical thought.
 
I leaned back.
 
“I love you.”

“How did you know it was me?” Jean-Charles seemed surprised that I could do that.
 

I turned, stepping back to get a good look.
 
Resplendent in his tux with a festive red cummerbund and a gold tie, he said easily but with feeling.
 
“I love you, too.
 
You must know this.”
 

My heart tumbled—I wondered if he’d always have that effect on me.
 
A lifetime was a tricky thing.
 
My ring flashed as he took my hands, kissing each one, then folding me in for the real thing.
 
I never wanted him to stop.
 

Someone tried to get our attention.
 
A light throat-clearing—I guessed they thought we’d been at it long enough.
 
Brandy, looking like an angel dropped among us, except for the pink coloring her cheeks.
 
“Sorry.”

Jean-Charles loosened his hold, but didn’t abandon it.

I gave her half of my attention, which was all that was available with my body pressed to the Frenchman’s.
 
“We’re about ready.”
 
She glanced at the papers in my hand.
 
“I see you got your note.”