After a week of working at Marquis, I’ve realized that this case won't be a quick one. If anything, seeing the sheer amount of money invested in security and the surveillance equipment on site makes me more sure than ever that something more could be going on--either at the club, or through the business like my client suspects. I can't think of a business that's completely on the up and up that would ever need government-level security measures. That’s not to say it isn’t nice working with this level of technology.
The first two shifts last weekend were spent shadowing Justin. He showed me everything I needed to know and everywhere I could go—basically anywhere except the two offices at the end of the second-floor hallway. From monitoring the scanners in the lobby to working the front door with Hawk as well as spending hours in the control room upstairs with its eagle-eye view of the entire club, I've done it all and seen almost all of the operations at the club.
It's been easy to get the lay of the land in such a short period of time because the club is always busy. From the moment the doors open at nine to when they finally close at four a.m., it’s pumping. There is always something happening in the club from what I can only assume comes from the instinctive freedom that comes just from being in Vegas. Add in free-flowing liquor, men and women crammed together in a hot, sweaty, decadent atmosphere that oozes sin and sex, and everything that happens in a town that never sleeps, and there's never a dull moment.
Harry has given me free rein to run this case however I see fit but talking it through with him before I left, he approved of my intention to lay low and work my way in slowly. The ultimate goal is to get inside the inner circle of Marquis and close to Decker because that’s the only way I can see me finding whatever dirt there is to be found.
I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary so far, but that's not to say there isn't anything there. It’s been two days. Even my most optimistic estimate of how long this job might take was a month, most likely longer. That’s why I’m sticking to my initial plan, it’s just a hell of a lot clearer now than it was before I got here.
So far, I think just knowing Justin from before has gone a long way to earn his trust and respect. The next step is meeting Decker, the legend of Marquis himself. Curiously, he’s yet to make an appearance, which just seems to add to the mystery surrounding the man.
After clocking in for my third shift just five days after first walking through the doors, I’ve been outside with Hawk and another guard for half an hour when Justin comes out, clapping Hawks back before grabbing my hand and shaking it. He doesn’t let go though, he holds on, staring me dead in the eye. “Good news, Lawrence. I talked to Decker and Hawk. You’re being promoted,” he announces.
I arch a brow, a mix of intrigued, surprised, and naturally suspicious. “Promoted to what?”
He lets me go and laughs. “No offense to Hawk and his crew, but your skill set is more valuable inside than out.”
My head swivels to the man standing beside him. Hawk just snorts. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s not wrong. You’re wasted on the door. You got over a decade on the job and that was dealing with far worse than a fake ID, entitled drunk fucks who think they’re doing me the favor, and all the other drunk, horny, and high club goers on the Strip.” He jerks his chin toward the club. “Get inside and stop looking like you've just jumped the queue ahead of me. I'm the one who told J to do it.”
“You suggested it, but you weren’t wrong.”
Hawk chuckles. “I’m never wrong, J.”
Justin rolls his eyes, his lips twitching. “Anyway, I need someone I can trust to be my eyes and ears when I'm not here, and that’s you.” His gaze scans my expression. “Don't make me force you, Lawrence. Just say thank fuck and let's go. Hawk won't hold it against you because you’re essentially the same, it’s just he’s my outside eyes and you're my inside ones. You're equal.”
I turn to Hawk, not wanting to make an enemy of him. “Only if you're OK with this.”
He bumps my shoulder with his. “Fuck, Aiden. Just get your ass inside. You're holding up the line.”
“Yes, sir,” I say with a mock salute before arching a brow Justin’s way. “What the fuck are we still standing out here for?”
He rolls his eyes at me but does it while laughing. “My point exactly. See you, Hawk.”
“Later, J. Later, A.”
I turn and walk backward. “A?”
Hawk shrugs and holds two fingers out as he lifts his hand to his forehead. “Better than L.”
“Yeah, you win with that one,” I say, waving him off. We leave Hawk working the line while Justin and I head inside.
Once we’re in the elevator heading up to the control center, I take my chance. “You want to tell me what this is all about then?”
I’m not complaining. No longer being on the door or having to stand sentry next to the dancefloor helps give me access I didn’t have before. It’s also the perfect chance to get closer to Justin and eventually Decker. That’s not to say that it isn’t a little suspicious. Why would a club with so many cameras and such stringent security promote a new staff member after a few shifts?
Is it because they see potential or so that they can keep a close eye on me?
“Man, you really are a suspicious bastard,” he says, and for a moment I wonder if I spoke my thoughts out loud. I forge on regardless.
“I’ve been screwed over before, remember.”
His lips curl up on one side, his eyes glittering with approval. “Way I heard it, it was you doing the screwing.”
I rake my hands over my face and huff out a huge breath. “Screwing myself over? Yep. Doesn't mean I can't be bitter about it.”
“I’d be worse than bitter, man. But that’s all in the past now. Working here is your chance to start over and get your life back on track. It worked for me, I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for Decker.” I make another mental note to follow up on that lead at another time. “The only thing stopping you is you. All you've got to do is man up, take it by the balls, and wring them out for all you can get, yeah?”
I screw up my face at the analogy and make a show of covering my junk with my hands. “Not too keen on wringing balls that aren't my own.”
Justin grins like a loon. “That right there is why you're the right man for the job.”
“Cause the only nuts I like are my own?” I say with a disbelieving snort.
“Look, I don’t care whose junk you're touching--or not touching. Whatever floats your boat. But you’re a good fit because you're real. You've done wrong and been wronged, but you're still standing and pushing ahead. That is the kind of man Decker and I want working with us.”
We step out into the corridor, one side is taken up by the control room, the other is lined with art works, photographs, all edgy designer shit that doesn’t take my fancy. Right at the end are Justin and Decker’s offices.
“See, you keep mentioning the man but I’m really starting to think the elusive Decker James is a mirage,” I tease. “How would he even know who I am?”
Justin’s lips curl up. “Don't worry about that. Deck knows everything that goes on. If he's not here to see it himself, he makes sure to hear about it, ask about it, or watch the cameras to find out about it for himself. Believe me, he knows all about you.”
That makes my hair stand on end. “Since I’m still here and now being promoted, I’ll take that as the mystery boss man’s approval.”
Justin lifts a brow. “You sound surprised? You’re not being promoted because I like you, Aiden. It’s because you're good, you've got an eye for detail, and an instinct you can't train. You've either got it or you don't. I'd be an idiot not to utilize you here. That’s what Deck has seen too.”
I lift my chin. “There's not much else I can say about that. If he likes what he sees and thinks I’m good at my job, I’m not about to argue. Stranger to me or not. That would kind of go against everything I'm trying to achieve here.
“Good. Now can we finally get on with actually working?” he muses.
“Yeah. Just hear me when I say thanks, J.”
“All good. For the record, tonight must be your lucky night because Decker’s coming in soon for a meeting he wants us to sit in on.”
I nod, feeling the anticipation build in my chest. It's the next step I was waiting for, even if it is happening a hell of a lot faster than I had anticipated. But the best way to find out everything I need to know about him is to meet him and get close to him. If I'm to have any chance of getting the evidence my client needs, then a face to face with the boss is a great place to start. At least then I can get a read on him and work out whether he’s the prime target I suspect he is.
“You going to tell me what this new job of mine is all about then?” I ask as we stop outside the control room door.
“You're going to be another me,” he states matter-of-factly. Justin has either just made my life a hell of a lot easier, or it’s a 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' situation. “I'm busy already and that’s just going to get worse when I take on all the things Decker wants me to do. That means I need someone to be me when I can't be—that’s you.
“I appreciate that, I do. You can understand why I'm a bit shocked though. We only met up again a week ago.”
“You forget. I know you, Aiden. I know the man you are and the kind of cop you were. You'll handle shit the same way I would. That's what I need. It's a no-brainer. Why do you think I hired you on the spot?”
“Ah, so you were looking for a workhorse all along so you can sit back in the VIP lounge drinking whisky and smoking cigars?” I say with a laugh.
“Fuck, I wish,” he says. “But you didn’t realize that your first two shifts when you were working your way around the club and being hands on, that was me testing you. And you passed with flying colors. This is your reward. The next step, Aiden. Just need you to tell me I can trust you.”
Getting my head back in the game, I plaster the most earnest grin I've got in my arsenal and hold out my hand to shake his. “You know you can, Justin. I'm honored.”
“Good. Now let's check on the crew in here and do the rounds before Deck gets here.
“Understood,” I say simply. Justin claps me on the back before we step into the security perched high over the whole club. Camera feeds play continuously on the wall full of screens that fill half the room. It's overkill but from a security and business standpoint, it's smart. Everything that happens inside the four walls of Marquis is our responsibility and in this room, almost all of it is visible and recorded. So whatever happens, it’ll either be seen as it happens or can be looked up after the fact.
“Everything OK tonight?” Justin asks the two guards on duty.
“Yeah, boss. All quiet. No funny business so far,” Ben says without looking away from the screens.
My head drops with a groan and I don't miss the guy's wide eyes as he realizes he's committed the one faux pas we all know you shouldn't make. Never say it's quiet.
Justin chuckles. “Guess who just bought himself a week of check-out duty.” Something I discovered during my first shift is that the job nobody wants is working at the coat check/locker check out post.
“Yes, boss.”
“And Chris,” he says, turning to the other guy. “That means you get another week up here.”
“Not complaining about that, sir,” Chris replies. “It’s entertaining as hell watching all the guys get shot down by women that are out of their league.”
“Good man. Aiden here is going to be taking over most of my duties once I bring him up to speed. So, if I'm not here, he's me.” Both of the men turn toward me and nod, instantly giving me their respect. It's a heady feeling, something I haven't felt since I was back on the force. It's empowering to know that they trust me implicitly. Let's just hope that when all is said and done, they don't feel like they've been screwed over and betrayed.
For the next few hours, Justin and I do the rounds, checking in on the rest of the security team. Covering for breaks and dealing with a few reports of disturbances, one of which is a dealer trying to drum up business in the restrooms.
As the night wears on and Decker still hasn't shown up, I start to think he's not going to turn up after all. Justin and I sit at the bar and I watch as the vibe in the club slowly switches from the witching hour for mating to the slow, seductive roll of 'any companion will do,’ something I’ve noticed always seems to happen around two a.m.
“You liking being back in Vegas?” Justin asks as the bartender whose name I now know as Brandi slides me a club soda and Justin a whisky sour.
I take a sip of the soda, feeling the fizz dance on my tongue before answering. “Yeah, it's been...interesting so far.”
“I can imagine,” Justin chuckles. “You always did have a way of finding yourself in the middle of things.”
“It's a gift,” I reply dryly, taking another sip of my drink. “But in all seriousness, I'm grateful for this opportunity. It's not often you get a second chance.”
“I hear that. Been there, lived the tale, written the book,” Justin agrees with a wry smile as he swirls the liquor in his glass. “I’m glad I can help you out and pay it forward, as they say. Having someone I can trust by my side and at my back is a bonus.”
I hold up my glass between us. “Happy to be trusted,” I reply, meeting Justin's gaze.
“That mean you're here for the long haul?”
Tilting my head, I arch a brow. “You mean will I marry you? Nope. But if you’re asking whether I’m looking to put down roots and not blow my life up again? For sure. I have a feeling this job is just what I need to get me back on my feet, something I haven't had a reason to do since I left the force.”
“Ah. Now that's something I can help with. If you want security and prospects, stick with me. Deck likes to look after his people. If he likes you, if he trusts you, you're in with him for life.”
“Yet he's still a stranger to me, so as good as that sounds, you've got to let me be the judge of that.” This isn’t Aiden the security guard talking, this is the real me. Not that there’s much difference between the two right now. Even still, I can tell Justin is impressed.
He grins before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out his phone. “The man of the hour finally arrives. C'mon, Lawrence. Looks like you'll get your chance to judge the boss now.”
My lips quirk up. “Thought you were the boss?”
Justin snorts and slides off his stool. “Yeah, not when Deck's in the building. Let's go. He wants to meet you.”
I don’t miss the spike of adrenalin coursing through me as we move across the club toward the VIP stairs. I realize that it’s the feeling I’ve been missing, the one you can’t replicate unless it’s in the moment. It’s akin to the thrill of the chase, or the anticipation of trapping someone in a game of chess. This time, the target, the prey, the person I’m looking to outsmart is the man behind Marquis.
I look around, my brows bunching. “How did I miss him come in?” I ask.
Justin chuckles. “Deck’s not the kind of man to walk through the front door if he doesn’t want to. If he wants to make a scene, he’ll do it. But he’ll do it on his terms.”
As we climb the stairs, I can feel Justin's gaze on me. Taking a discreet deep breath when we reach the VIP floor, I fall in step behind him.
But as we approach the huge purple velvet booth with two people sitting in it waiting for us, I realize that this case has just gone sideways.
Because sitting next to Decker is the very last person I'd ever expect to see, and going by the death stare in her eyes, she's just as thrown as I am.