Dangerous Refuge (11 page)
T
anner drove into the Aces Up parking lot and turned off his car’s unhappy engine. “Looks more like Monaco than Glitter Gulch,” he said of the building. “Fresh paint, artsy sign, no burned-out bulbs or flickering neon, and a clean parking lot.”
“Like I said, a dress rehearsal. Locals gamble here, but only the high rollers get upstairs. No shorts or sandals allowed on the upper casino floor. You want to play slots next to people wearing flip-flops, surfer pants, and Hawaiian shirts? You can do that at ground level, but you won’t make it past the bouncers guarding the mezzanine entrances.”
“No wonder Lorne and his poker pals drove to the Silver Lode.”
“The old ranchers might have anniversary dinners at Aces Up—the restaurant is almost painfully classy and has really fine food—but the old ranchers don’t really care much for Ace himself.”
“He’s not their kind of people?” Tanner asked.
“They don’t trust manicures and Italian loafers.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine Lorne getting all fancied up in a tie and suit just to enjoy a drink and a card game.”
“From what Kimberli says, you might get away without a tie upstairs, but only if you’ve been gambling for more than twelve hours and have lost a bundle already.”
He looked at Shaye. She was the least produced, turned-out, or self-conscious woman he’d ever met—and the sexiest. He liked knowing that if he went to bed with her, he wouldn’t wake up to raccoon eyes and a face that needed an hour with a makeup artist.
“So Kimberli likes Ace’s casino and you don’t,” he said.
“Nothing personal. Gambling just doesn’t light up my blood. And the casinos . . .” She shook her head. “Forget quiet desperation. They’re noisy desperation. So I don’t spend any more time than I have to in them.”
He laughed. “Smart lady.”
“Ace is smart, too. Underneath that glossy surface is one very shrewd businessman. The local gambling competition is strictly small town and downscale. He bought Aces Up cheap, renovated, and proved that he could attract a high-end crowd to the valley floor.”
“Yeah. From what I’ve seen, his local competition has to lure people through the doors with soft slots and easy tables, low-dollar single-deck and guaranteed ninety-seven percent payouts. Three percent of the day’s take in penny and nickel slots isn’t much.”
She listened and realized all over again that Tanner was more than a hard body and a compelling face. He had a brain and wasn’t afraid of using it.
And he was good company.
“That’s why the Conservancy spends a lot of time charming Ace,” she said. “He has enough money to keep Kimberli’s mustangs in hay for the rest of the century, and land to let them run.”
“Yet Ace will make time to talk to you if you ask,” Tanner said.
Her expression said she wasn’t thrilled. But she was game. “C’mon. Let’s get it over with.” Then she heard her own words and sighed. “That didn’t come out right.”
“Ace isn’t your kind of guy?”
“About the only thing we have in common is the Conservancy. Makes conversation pretty limited.”
Tanner’s smile was a flash of hard teeth. “We’ll see what we can do to expand his horizons.”
“I’m hoping we won’t have to go to him at all. If we do, please remember that Ace may make Conservancy donations for his image, but his money spends just like a true believer’s. Whether he means to or not, he’s done a lot of good.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t bite or piss on the rug.”
She just shook her head and bit her lip against a smile.
No sooner did they walk in the front entrance than a thin, nervous young man with startling natural red hair approached them. The suit he wore was ill fitting and his string tie was lopsided and frayed at one end.
“Shaye Townsend?” he asked.
“And guest,” Tanner said.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Ace told me to give you any help you needed. I’ll take you upstairs.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I was wondering how we would get past the clothes police.”
He almost laughed, then cleared his throat. “I promised the pit boss we wouldn’t stop for a game. Follow me.”
An employee elevator was waiting for them. Their guide used a key card, then fidgeted for the short ride up. The instant the door opened, he set off at a brisk pace down a hallway that paralleled the second-floor casino, looking neither right nor left. The wall dividing them from the casino was made of a smoky kind of glass that allowed anyone in the hall to watch the action without being seen.
Tanner had seen one-way glass windows in interrogation rooms, but never an entire wall. Well-dressed people were drinking from crystal glasses and pushing chips on the line for bets. Some of the players were still wearing clothes from last night’s parties, though no one seemed obviously drunk. The feel of money was everywhere, but there was no cash in sight.
“Hell of a place for a pawnshop,” Tanner said quietly to Shaye.
“Vertical integration. You can experience an entire resort getaway—food, drink, shops, exercise room—and never leave your hotel. It doesn’t look like it from the outside, but Aces Up covers a city block.”
“So if you come up short for a bet, you can hock a watch or a ring or your lady’s jewelry without actually leaving the casino.”
Shaye nodded.
The red-haired guide used his key card on the door at the end of the hall. It opened onto a mezzanine of shops and restaurants. One of the shops offered jewelry and other portable, expensive items. Though it was richly laid out and discreetly lit, it was difficult to hide the fact that Brilliant Moments was a pawnshop.
Tanner took it all in with the eyes of the cop he was. The front was run like a jewelry store with a big side order of collectibles. People who got lucky in the casino could come to the shop and buy diamonds, guitars, solid gold watches, coins, or the collector’s case of
Star Wars
figures that had haunted their dreams as a kid. Unlucky people sold their personal Brilliant Moments for pennies on the dollar.
Vertical integration with a vengeance.
He wondered which back room was used to disappoint losers who found out that the $6,000 watch they had bought retail was worth maybe $600 cash right now in their sweaty hands. When all the shine was rubbed away, gambling was about losing money, not winning it.
“The dude who manages the collectibles section is back here,” their guide said. “Name is Fred.”
Tanner and Shaye dutifully followed their guide through a locked gate. The two salesclerks up front looked at the redhead before they went back to waiting for the next person, someone who might be a buyer instead of a guest.
Fred was moon-faced, dressed to gamble on the second floor, and didn’t glance up when the redheaded admin guy showed his two charges into the room and left, shutting the door behind him. Fred was giving a quick and thorough examination to a teardrop-shaped guitar lying on the counter in front of him. Next to the guitar, a laptop computer waited to research online databases.
Tanner suspected that the computer was backup only. People like Fred knew the difference between retail dollars and pawn dollars without resorting to machines.
“Best I can offer for this Vox is five bills,” Fred said. His voice sounded like Chicago, bourbon, and cigar smoke. His attitude was take it or leave it.
The tall, gaunt man with shaggy hair, worn jeans, and moccasins picked up the guitar and walked out a back door without saying a word.
“My turn,” Shaye said softly.
Tanner didn’t object. Fred wouldn’t be any more interested in Tanner’s L.A. badge than the guitar player had been in giving away his Vox.
Fred looked at Shaye like a man who was tired of questions. “Why did Ace’s boy bring you here?”
“I heard you had some 1932 Saint-Gaudens twenty-dollar gold coins.”
“Where did you hear that?”
Tanner moved like a man impatient to be somewhere else, and fully capable of kicking the ass of anyone who got in his way.
Interest flickered in Fred’s pale eyes. Then he gave Shaye his full attention. “And are you buying or inquiring?”
“Depends on what you have,” she said.
Silently Tanner cheered the society maven who had taught Shaye how to make someone feel like gum on a sidewalk without even curling her lip.
“Unusual pieces,” Fred said. “Sure you don’t want a coin specialist?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Tanner said to himself. His voice was pitched like he expected privacy, but it was just loud enough for Fred to overhear. “C’mon, sweetie, I told you this would be a waste of time.”
“Hush, sugar pie,” she said. “I want those coins. Preferably uncirculated. I was told Brilliant Moments had them.”
“When I think you can afford them,” Fred said indifferently, “you can see any Saint-Gaudens I have. If I had them. Which I didn’t say I did.”
As Fred spoke, he started cleaning his nails with a letter opener he kept at hand.
“I assure you, I am quite capable of buying whatever you have for sale,” she said.
“Then it’s too bad I don’t have any Saint-Gaudens, isn’t it?”
She turned to Tanner. “Your turn.”
“We’re not buying. We’re tracing,” he said. “Word is, you have what we’re looking for.”
“You have any ID?” the man asked without looking up.
Tanner dropped his badge onto the counter.
“Long way from home,” Fred said after a glance. “And we’re not in California, so I wonder why I’m talking to you without a warrant.”
“Because you don’t want to piss off your boss,” Tanner said. “I don’t care how much you paid for the Saint-Gaudens. I just want to know who sold them to you.”
“If I have them.”
Tanner spun the laptop computer toward himself, clicked up to the menu that would give him the search sites for the last week, and struck gold.
“You’re researching Saint-Gaudens for the hell of it? Starting Thursday?” he asked sardonically. “Lame, mook, really lame.”
Fred stopped working on his nails for a heartbeat, then continued. “I research a lot of things.”
“Uh-huh. Looks like you spent some time on dealers’ forums where they brag about how cheap they buy and how dear they sell coins. Your handle is Auric1953. Now, you want to do another lap around this track and make me call Ace?”
Fred sighed like someone who had a junk poker hand that wouldn’t float him long enough to get him to the other side of the river. “Yeah, I’ve got some Saint-Gaudens. And yeah, they’re fresh.”
“Your turn,” Tanner said to Shaye.
She smiled. “Thank you.” She looked back to Fred, who had given up cleaning his nails. “How did you hear about the coins?”
“Same way you did. Off the casino floor.”
“When? This post on the forum was made on Thursday.”
“Couple hours before I hit the forum,” Fred said, disgust in his voice. “I just had to shove some of their snotty noses in it.”
“And you got five of them for two thousand cash?” Shaye asked. “How much do they usually sell for?”
“Depends on the buyer.”
“According to the reaction on the forum,” Tanner said, looking away from the computer, “you made one screaming hell of a buy.”
“The guys who come here want cash and they want it now. We make good buys after we make sure the goods aren’t on anyone’s hot sheet. Ace would fire my ass in a heartbeat if he thought anything different.”
Shaye looked at Tanner.
“You have to take a copy of the driver’s license, right?” Blue eyes bored into Fred.
“Of course. Like I said, we’re legit all the way.”
“Then you won’t mind showing us the copy and the data from that transaction,” Tanner said, gesturing to the cameras he was sure were hidden in the ceiling.
“We delete every forty-eight hours. Storage doesn’t come free. And no copy of the driver’s license until Mr. Desmond personally tells me different.”
Tanner looked at Shaye.
“You’re right,” she said. “We should have started with Ace.”
A
ce strode into Brilliant Moments, his shaved head in shining contrast to the dark silk shirt and wine-purple double-breasted suit he wore. Beneath the sheen of skin on his skull lay the outline of male-pattern baldness.
“Shaye,” he said, his smile wide and welcoming. “If you’d told me you were stopping by, especially with an out-of-town guest, I’d have arranged a full tour.”
He half embraced her and put out his hand to Tanner at the same time. Ace was thick through the body, but it wasn’t fat. He was built like a wrestler. Though he was stronger than a lot of men, he didn’t try to prove it with a crushing handshake.
“Ace Desmond,” he said easily.
“Tanner Davis, Mr. Desmond. Pleased to meet you.”
“Davis—now I remember. You were at the Conservancy gala. You’re Lorne’s son, grandson?”
“Nephew,” Tanner said.
“I truly regret your loss,” Ace said. “Lorne was an icon to the valley ranchers. When he died, an era ended. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know.”
“Well, I really hate to bother you with this—Shaye told me how busy you are—but we’re trying to track down some coins that might have been stolen from Lorne’s house before he died,” Tanner said.
Surprise flickered across Ace’s face. “I hadn’t heard about that. What brings you to Brilliant Moments rather than the sheriff’s office?”
Fred shifted his feet behind the counter, looking like he wanted to curl up into his own belly button and disappear. He’d called Shaye’s bluff about Ace and found himself holding a losing hand in a game whose stakes were bigger than he’d thought.
“We got reports that some similar coins have shown up recently in a couple of shops around the area, including this one,” Shaye said. “There’s no point in bothering the sheriff when all we want to do is verify that the coins were sold to Brilliant Moments, and who sold them.”
“Of course,” Ace said. “If there’s a thief in the valley, I don’t want him anywhere near my guests.” He looked at Fred. “Have you any information about the coins?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I commend your discretion, but this is a special case. Please give them what they need. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ace turned back to Shaye as Fred hurried off. “I’d give you some chips and tell you to enjoy the casino, but Kimberli tells me you don’t care for gambling. How about an early dinner on me in the restaurant?” He winked. “I hear good things about the food.”
“That’s very gracious,” she said, “but we’re hardly up to the dress code.”
Ace waved it off. “That’s what private rooms are for.”
She quietly salivated at the thought. Her half sandwich at lunch was barely a memory. The food at the casino restaurant was justly famous. Despite her uneasiness at trading on the Conservancy’s connections, she looked at Tanner.
He was watching Fred with predatory intensity.
The pawnshop manager hurried toward them holding two enlarged copies of a driver’s license. He gave the first to his boss and the second to Tanner.
Tanner’s glance swept down the page, taking in information.
A hard-looking guy named Antonio Rua stared back from the driver’s license. Dark hair and eyes, five foot ten inches, thirty-five last February. He had a buzz cut, a scarred left eyebrow, and a stony jaw suggesting plenty of testosterone.
“Don’t recognize him,” Ace said, handing back the paper to Fred.
Neither did Tanner, but he had dealt with a lot of Rua’s type. Gifted physically, but not gifted enough, so they ended up finding dumb ways to make money, or got shot, or both. Along the way, there were usually some misdemeanor arrests. Maybe a felony or two.
Tanner folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. “Thank you for your help and your offer of the best dinner in the valley,” he said. “But frankly, Mr. Desmond, I’m not feeling up to doing justice to your chef.”
“Call me Ace. And I understand. Mourning and a full stomach don’t do well together.” He turned to Shaye. “A rain check, then. I insist.”
She smiled. “Rain check it is.”
“Just so long as you cash it sometime,” Ace said as he hugged her gently. He turned to Tanner. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss. It was the valley’s loss, too. And if there’s a thief selling hot goods on my property, I’ll find him and let the sheriff know. I have a lot more eyes than you do,” he added, casually indicating the cameras concealed behind smoky domes and in ceiling lights.
Like all gaming establishments, on the premises of Aces Up the only places where you weren’t observed were the public restrooms and the hotel rooms themselves. Everything else was photographed and stored.
“Fred, send a copy of that license to Security,” Ace said. “If that man shows up again, I want to know.” He frowned. “He looked local, like maybe there’s some Basque blood in him.”
“There are Basques all over the valley,” Shaye said. “Ranching is in them as much as it’s in any westerner.”
Ace nodded and turned to Fred. “Keep those coins in the safe until I tell you otherwise.”
Fred didn’t look happy about losing all that profit, but he said, “Yes, sir.”
With a barely noticeable sideways glance, Ace checked his watch.
Quickly Shaye said, “Thank you again. Please don’t let us keep you. I’ll bet you were called out of a meeting.”
“Remind me never to play poker with you,” Ace said wryly. “Mr. Davis—”
“Tanner.”
Ace nodded. “A pleasure, Tanner. I’ll look forward to seeing you and Shaye in the restaurant very soon.”
The redhead passed his boss in the doorway to Brilliant Moments. Tanner wondered if Ace had his admin assistant wired for sound.
Neither Tanner nor Shaye said much on the way back through the casino and out the front door. The sun was well behind the peaks of the Sierras now, and even the warmth from the ground wasn’t taking much edge off the chill.
As soon as his butt hit the driver’s seat, she said, “Tell me we’re going to eat dinner somewhere. My treat. My stomach is gnawing on itself.”
He grinned. “Sorry. I just wasn’t in the mood to be the owner’s special guest.”
“Neither was I, really. Doesn’t mean I’m not hungry.”
“Is Wrigley’s still open?”
“Wrigley’s?”
“Fried chicken and biscuits. Decent salads. They’re soaking tomorrow’s chicken in buttermilk today. Rumor was they used it in the biscuits, too, which made them taste extra special. It was about the only place in town we went to on anything like a regular basis.”
“Must have closed. I’ve never heard of the place, and I’ve eaten about everywhere there is between here and Tahoe.”
“Damn.” Tanner sighed over the lost biscuits. “Antonio Rua—the guy who sold the coins—lives in Meyers. Or that’s what the driver’s license said. California license.”
“There are some good barbecue joints on the way to Luther Pass, back through Refuge.”
“You know your way around, don’t you?”
“Why do you sound surprised?” she asked.
“Because I never saw girls like you when I lived here.”
“Probably because you left before you were interested in girls.”
He shook his head. “I grew up fast,” he said.
And then started up a chain of serial disappointments.
But he didn’t want to spoil anyone’s appetite by talking about his rock-stupid past.
“Barbecue it is,” he said. “Right after I make a call.”
She listened while he called Brothers and relayed Antonio Rua’s stats and license number, and Brothers promised to drag the name through some files and get back.
The car started—smoky, noisy, rough—but it started.
“Maybe we should take my Bronco,” she said.
“It’s in Tahoe. We aren’t. If you’re worried, I can swap this for Lorne’s truck.”
She muttered something about frying pans and fires.
He ignored her, driving quickly to the place she had recommended.
After they placed their orders, she fidgeted at the table, waiting for food. Tanner leaned back like he was in his favorite chair and had nothing on his mind but his hair.
“How can you be so calm?” Shaye demanded in a low voice.
“Other than you, I haven’t found anything to get excited about.”
“But we aren’t getting any answers.”
“Honey, I’ve barely started asking questions. I’m just feeling around for rattlesnakes in the dark.”
She frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Then don’t come with me on a rattlesnake hunt. I’ll take you back to your condo after we eat, then I’ll go talk to Rua.”
“That’s a lot of time wasted for you. From here, Tahoe is on the far side of Meyers.”
He smiled. “I’ve got a lot of time.”
But inside he wasn’t smiling. The more he thought about Antonio Rua, the more Tanner didn’t want her anywhere near the man.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That I’m going to talk to Rua alone.”
“No,” she said instantly.
“I thought you were bored.”
“Impatient, not bored. I feel like something’s gnawing at me. And you spend as much time looking in the side and back mirrors as you do watching the road. What are you expecting?”
“Just hoping to see that our questions pissed somebody off or worried them enough to follow me around. It would make my life easier. I’d lay a trap for the tail, spring it, and find out who set him on me.”
Shaye looked startled. “Does that work?”
“With amateurs.”
“How about today?”
“Nothing so far.”
Before she could say anything else, the server came and dropped off plates of pork ribs. Tanner had intended to eat on the way to Meyers, but Shaye had ordered ribs for herself, all but licking her lips. Since he wanted to lick her lips for her, he tripled the order and joined her.
He really was going to have to do something about those lips of hers. They couldn’t be nearly as wild and hot as they looked.
With quick white teeth, Tanner cleaned meat off a savory bone, wishing Shaye was on the menu. On the other hand, watching her fearlessly dive into the food was a sensual revelation. He had discovered that a woman who was afraid to get messy at the table often carried that attitude into bed. He supposed the haughty, touch-me-not routine worked for some men, but he wasn’t one of them and never would be.
Hungry in too many ways to count, he concentrated on the only appetite he could appease at the moment. Barbecued ribs and various vegetable sides vanished with impressive speed. Though he had twice the food Shaye did, he finished at the same time.
“Like a starving wolf,” she muttered as he put the last clean rib bone on his plate.
“Like a man who is used to being called out during dinner. And breakfast. And lunch.”
“Ah.” She tilted her head to the side and looked at him. “You missed a spot.”
“Of food?” He glanced at his plate. “Where?”
“There’s still a little patch on your chin that isn’t covered in sauce. Makes me want to dab some on and finish the job.”
He looked up and gave her a slow smile. “Dab away.”
She gave him a sideways look, then deliberately touched him with a saucy fingertip. With a speed that was almost startling, he took her hand and began thoroughly cleaning each fingertip. She shivered as he kissed her little finger and slowly released her hand.
“All done,” he said, watching her with vivid blue eyes.
“I’ve got another hand.” She heard herself and laughed, shaking her head. “You’re bad for my impulse control.”
“Good,” he said huskily. “You’re hell on mine. Fair warning, if I clean your other fingers, I won’t stop there.”
There was an electric silence, then she sighed and tore open a package containing a damp wipe.
“You sure?” Tanner asked.
“I’ll lick fingers in public, but that’s as far as I’ll go. Here.” She handed him the damp napkin. “Wipe your face. I don’t trust myself to do it for you. And that’s a first.”
“Not wiping faces?”
“Not trusting myself.”
He smiled slowly. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She gave him a look of disbelief and wiped off her own face with a second damp napkin before she went to work on the hand he hadn’t licked. “Since sex isn’t on the table—”
“—here,” Tanner said. “I’ve got a table at the ranch that—”
“—let’s go find out where Rua got his gold coins,” she said firmly.
“I’m taking you home before I talk to the mook with the California driver’s license.”
“I said I was impatient, not bored.”
“Up until now, this has been civilized ride-along stuff, talking to mostly civilized folks who aren’t likely to try to crack my skull. All we know about Rua is that he might have killed Lorne and damn sure had five of his coins to sell. I’m going alone.”
Her chin came up. “Would anyone give you a warrant—for anything, much less murder—on the basis of what we know right now about the ‘mook’ and the coins?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Really? It sure looks like the only point that matters. You can’t see circumstantial from where we are and you know it. And FYI, sweetie. Overbearing men are high on my never-again list.”
“It’s not overbearing to want to keep you safe,” Tanner said reasonably. The fact that his fists were curled under the table was his secret.
“Okay,” she agreed.
His hands relaxed. “Good. I’ll take you home and—”
“I want to keep you safe, too,” she cut in, looking reasonable. “So neither of us goes.”
“I’m a cop.”
“Which means I’ll be safe, right?”
He bit off the response he wanted to make. He had known one thing about Shaye from the beginning—treat her with respect or take a hike.
“Let’s compromise,” he said. “You wait in the car with the doors locked while I chat up Rua.”
“If the guy knows anything about what happened to Lorne,” she said, “I want to be there to hear it. Damn it,
I found Lorne
. Let me do something to make me feel less like I hurt him and never had a chance to make it right.”
Tanner pushed away from the table and shook their tray of dinner debris into a nearby trash can. The bones rattled on the way down. He was still hearing the unhappy clatter when he got back to the table.