Poker Face (The Masks Series Book 4) (12 page)

Eric

We arrived in Las Vegas just after eight that night. It was definitely cooler than L.A. I grabbed a sweater and threw it on before following Rhodes into the hotel reception. We’d chosen a place a couple of blocks back from the Strip. Dad wanted to stay as incognito as possible. His jittery nerves wound a fraction tighter with each passing mile. By the time we entered our motel room, I thought he was about to implode.

He glared at my amused expression. “Shut up, buddy. I’m really not in the mood.”

Pulling out his gun, he placed it in the top drawer of his nightstand and moved to the window, flicking back the curtain and checking the parking lot.

Rhodes knocked on our door and I let him in.

“What’s the plan?”

“I think we should lay low tonight and get to work tomorrow morning. I want to scout the area in daylight. There’ll be less people about if we go first thing in the morning. I want to hang out at this casino a little first before trying to corner Gomez.”

“Why wait? Let’s go now. Vegas is an all-night city. I’m not just going to sit around here wasting my time.”

“Vegas brings out a different breed of people at night. We need to be careful.” Dad crossed his arms and leaned his butt against the windowsill.

His caution was really starting to piss me off.

I opened my mouth to argue when Rhodes got a call. His face grew tight with tension before answering.

“Yeah...” He grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut. “Just taking a little vacation time. The case is wrapped up and you said I could have the week off....Um...” He puffed out his cheeks. “Blowin’ off some steam in Vegas.” He scratched the back of his head and turned away from me, letting out what I thought was a nervous chuckle. “You told me to drop it, so I did. You know how I feel. If you change your mind, give me a call.”

His voice was snappy and terse. With a short huff, he slid the phone into his pocket and turned to face us.

“Kaplan?” Dad asked.

Rhodes gave a stiff nod, his jaw clenched so tight I could see his muscles working.

“You must feel pretty cut up about this if you’re willing to take vacation time to help us.” Dad’s eyes narrowed as he studied the guy. “You’re going against your boss. You could get fired if you get caught. The guilt must be pretty strong.”

Rhodes shrugged. “Or maybe I just hate the idea of a girl like Caity in the hands of Miguel Vera...or anyone in the underworld, for that matter. She’s too pure and sweet to be surrounded by such filth.” He spat out the last word and squeezed the back of his neck.

I studied him with steely eyes. I knew it was immature to feel jealous, but I couldn’t help it. It was obvious Rhodes liked her. The idea of him working so closely with her while I remained clueless stung big-time. I was pretty sure she hadn’t, but it felt a little like she’d been cheating on me. The thing was, I didn’t feel an ounce of animosity towards Caity over the whole thing; it was all directed at Rhodes.

He caught my expression and waved a hand at me with a scoff. “Don’t worry about it, man. She’s in love with you, not me.” He ran his tongue over his bottom teeth and shook his head. “Doesn’t mean I can’t save her life though, you know?”

It was an effort, but I eventually muttered, “Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes and made for the door when the phone rang again, except this time, it wasn’t his phone. It was Caity’s. I recognized the ring tone. My body stiffened.

Rhodes pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen. “It’s her mom. She called yesterday, too. I can’t answer and I don’t know what to tell her.”

“Give it to me.” I held out my hand and answered it just before it went to voicemail.

“Hey, Mrs. Davis. How’s it going?”

“Eric.” She sounded pleasantly surprised. “I didn’t— I thought—”

“That Caity and I were no longer together?” I finished for her.

She chuckled. “I should have known. Like one spat could break you two up.”

I forced out a laugh. “We managed to fix things up. I’m sorry we missed Thanksgiving, though.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I was just calling to make sure Caity was okay.”

I swallowed, pulling a plastic smile and hoping it’d reach my voice. “Yeah, she’s doing great. School’s back and we’re busy prepping for exams. She’s just taking a shower before we head to the library for another session. Do you want her to call you?”

“You know what? Don’t stress her out tonight. Just get her to give me a call in a few days when things have settled down. I wanted to tell her that we’ve boxed up all her stuff now to clear out the baby room for Holly, and I need to know what she wants to keep and throw away.”

“Got it.”

“And also tell her Mom says hi and give her a big hug for me.”

“Yeah.” I chuckled, a lump forming in my throat. “It’ll be my pleasure,” I choked out the words and hung up as soon as she’d said goodbye.

I dropped Caity’s phone on the table and looked between the two men. “That bought us a few more days.”

“Nice,” Rhodes mumbled before pulling the door open. “We’ll get to work first thing in the morning.”

I still wasn’t happy about the idea, but decided not to fight it.

Dad flicked his gaze to me. “What do you want to do?”

“Walk the Strip.” I threw my hands in the air, that caged-tiger feeling creeping over me again.

Working his jaw, Dad clicked his fingers and moved to the bedside locker. Yanking out his gun, he slid it into the back of his pants. “Tie your hair back and put on the beanie in my bag.”

I wasn’t about to argue. Leaping across to his bag, I wrenched out the floppy beanie and tucked my hair beneath it. Dad came over to me, tucking away the last few strands and handing me a pair of orange lens shades. He stepped back to look at me. “It’s not great, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He pointed at me. “We’re not going anywhere near Club Impulse, you got it?”

“I don’t even know where that is.”

“Thankfully, it’s at the very end of the Strip and nowhere near the new casino. Just promise me that all we’re doing tonight is walking this end of the Strip. I know you won’t be able to sleep until you burn off some steam, so we’ll do a quick trip down and then back again. We’re not going into any casinos; we’re just doing a walk-by. Got it?”

“Got it,” I muttered, not loving the idea but figuring it was better than nothing.

Dad rustled around in his bag, pulling out a pair of rectangular glasses. He slipped them on and it surprised me how that one little change made him look so different. Mussing up his hair, he scooped a little hair gel onto his finger and adjusted the style. Checking it out in the mirror, he did a few more tweaks and walked back towards me looking about ten years younger than he was.

With a small grin, he slapped me on the back. “Remember, just two tourists, checking out the nightlife.”

I nodded, following Dad out of the room. If only it were that simple.

Caitlyn

It was Tuesday night and once again I was dressed in finery and being escorted out of the Palacio del Diablo. Monique and Gabriel had totally covered for me on Friday and her expert dressing had covered up all my scrapes and bruises beautifully. As far as I knew, and from what I could read on faces, Santiago and Bruno remained unaware of my escape attempt.

Tonight I was dressed in a ruby and gold gown that hugged my figure like a glove. Once again, I had to suffer a plunging neckline, but the sheer full-length-sleeves hid the yellowing bruise on my shoulder and the scabs on my elbows. The skirt of the dress hung to the floor, much to my relief. My banged-up shin and grazed knees remained in hiding...hopefully until they healed, which was getting close. My stubbed toe throbbed inside my pointy gold shoes, but I’d take it. Better safe than...buried alive next to some desolate shack in the desert.

I felt like I owed Monique and Gabriel my life and wished I could make it up to them somehow, but all three of us were locked in this lavish prison and escape seemed like a pipe dream.

Sal towered beside me as he led me onto the casino floor. The place was humming, the night bringing out the crazy in people. I guessed the alcohol helped, too.

I ducked out of the way of one reveler and crashed into Bruno who was walking behind me. His hands caught me and then ran down to my hips, giving them a firm squeeze. I ordered my body not to react. Throughout the weekend I’d been obsessed with mastering my poker face, making sure Santiago didn’t sniff out my attempted jailbreak and giving Bruno nothing every time he tried to provoke me.

Finding my feet, I moved out of Bruno’s reach and kept walking, my bland expression locked in place. My eyes scanned the floor as I walked. I had no idea where we were going; all I knew was that I had to suffer Bruno’s company, which was infinitely worse than Santiago’s.

I guessed with the way I was dressed another high-stakes poker game was in my future. On Sunday, I’d had to run through my cheating code with Bruno. Santiago sat by, watching intently. It was a damn frustrating exercise with Bruno trying to change the moves and make them more intimate. What killed me more was that Santiago agreed, saying we couldn’t use the same moves in case someone noticed.

“Won’t someone question the fact that I was cozying up to you on Friday and Bruno another night?” I’d relished my snide remark.

But it’d been shot down by Santiago’s sick smile. “We like to share in this family.” He popped a grape in his mouth and wiggled his eyebrows while Bruno sniggered beside me.

I had no response so I sucked in my breath, pulled my mouth into a straight line and continued with the session. Well, it turned out Santiago had no intention of sharing me publicly, which was why two nights later, I walked in between Bruno and Sal wearing a long black wig. The bangs hung low over my eyebrows, making my eyes a vibrant blue. The fake eyelashes Monique had attached helped with that, too. I felt like Cleopatra.

I ran through the moves Bruno and I had settled on as we exited the casino. A cool wind whipped over my body, making me shiver. This clothing was so not suited for a Las Vegas winter. Wrapping my arms around myself, I turned right and headed for the cross sign.

And that’s when I saw him.

He was ambling down the sidewalk with a man I didn’t recognize and I had to look twice to make sure I wasn’t imagining something, but I knew Eric’s gait anywhere. I’d watched him walk towards me so many times, I had every contour and muscle of his body memorized.

A beanie hid his luscious locks and he was wearing these shades that looked a little space-age. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his shoulders were slightly hunched. He looked tired. He hadn’t shaved in a few days; his long stubble was turning into a beard that didn’t suit him.

I stopped, my lips parting as I soaked him in.

“Come.” Bruno pulled my arms away from my body and tugged at my hand, threading his fingers through mine as he jerked me to the crossing.

I tried not to flinch as Eric brushed straight past me. His eyes caught mine for the briefest moment, but he didn’t recognize me. He scanned my dress, surprised by the plunging neckline, but he didn’t take the time to admire my body. He wasn’t the least bit interested in some skinny woman, dressed like a high-class escort, with jet-black hair.

I glanced over my shoulder, watching him stride away. The urge to yank my hand free and chase after him was so overpowering I nearly gave into it. Thankfully my mind leap-frogged over my insanity, quickly playing out a string of harrowing consequences, all of which ended in the desert.

My body felt like wood as I clipped along beside Bruno and down the road. We paused at one more set of lights and I stole another peek over my shoulder, but Eric was gone. The loss pierced me like a stake through the heart. I could have touched him, reached out my hand and pulled myself into his arms!

Tears began to sting. I sniffed at them, screaming at myself to not give anything away. We crossed the next street and entered the Cosmopolitan Casino. It was all glitter and glam. We passed the 1920s-style car - silver and sparkling. I felt like I was entering a Great Gatsby set or something. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling with shimmering white strings of beads draping down like fabric. It was quite enchanting.

I gazed up at the glossy interior, my lips parting in awe.

Bruno yanked on my arm. “Don’t look like you’ve never seen wealth before,” he whispered. It was a sharp slap in the face.

I recaptured my poker expression, allowing myself a very small smile when our host approached us. He had a George Clooney look about him, all style and class with beautifully maintained salt and pepper hair. He kissed my knuckles before leading us to the elevator, where we ascended to the fourth floor and entered a flashy casino room. This was my third one in five days and I was already getting over them. Filled with antique furniture and wall paintings that were probably worth more than my parents’ house, they were basically a statement to the world that these pompous men were wealthy pricks. Yeah, well, I already knew that!

I recognized a couple of men from Friday night’s game, turning my face away when they glanced at me before remembering that I looked like a completely different person tonight.

My mind darted back to Eric, the way his eyes had brushed over me, not even a flicker of recognition.

What was he doing in Las Vegas?

And who was that guy he was with?

Did he know I was here? Had he come to find me?

Hope soared, bursting through me like a jubilant fireworks display. Nerves followed quickly in its wake. Eric couldn’t be here. What if he bumped into Marchant?

Bile surged up my throat, my head spinning as black dots stunted my vision. I gripped Bruno’s hand, and he shot me a quick scowl. Jolted into submission by his dark look, I swallowed down my anxiety, straightening my back and putting on the show he wanted me to.

I couldn’t make a mistake.

Bruno took a seat at the table and after a few shallow pleasantries, the cards were dealt. I tried to watch the game and concentrate, I swear I did, but I couldn’t focus. My vision kept blurring with images of Eric. Fear for his safety skittered through me, but coursing behind those nightmare images were the fantasies of a foolish girl who pictured Eric climbing my tower and rescuing me. My fingers jittered on Bruno’s shoulders, I pinched at his collar and ran my fingers through his hair as I tried to release some of my pent-up tension while still playing the part of a besotted girlfriend. My poker face was in play; I could tell by the way no one looked twice at my restlessness. Masks fell revealing nothing new to me. I saw the triumphant glee of the man opposite us and suddenly realized I’d just screwed up big-time.

“
Mierda
!” Bruno muttered, flicking his cards to the dealer.

I flinched. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out his harsh Spanish whisper meant ‘shit’. Bruno said it all the time, but not usually with this much venom. I looked down at the table, watching a large pile of chips being scraped away from him. He glanced up at me, a lascivious smile on his lips. He was going for enamored, I could tell he wanted to show the room I was his beautiful prize for the night, but he couldn’t pull it off. Beneath his mask, steam was coming out of his ears, anger pulsing from him, mixed with salacious triumph.

I wanted to freak out, fall to my knees and beg him not to tell Santiago, but that wouldn’t work. He wanted me to mess up. I may have just cost the sicko beside me a few hundred grand, but I’d also gained him an unwilling bed buddy.

I was such an idiot. Picturing Eric on some damn white steed? I’d just sentenced myself to the worst night of my life!

My eyes flicked back to the table, desperately scanning chips and reading faces. I was too late. Bruno had been betting big, misinterpreting my mindless anxiety as code. He only had enough left for one round and I had two choices: bring him back from the dead, which could potentially look highly suspicious, or sell a sweet story to Santiago that just might save my life.

I let Bruno lose the next round.

He fired out of his chair, bowing politely before snatching my arm and storming out of the room. I tripped over my heels as we hurried through the door. Sal caught my other arm and steadied me, easily keeping up with Bruno’s quick pace.

We charged back to Santiago’s casino, terror coursing through me in sickening waves. If I couldn’t sell my lies, it wouldn’t matter if Eric found me or not...because I was a dead girl.