The black Ford SUV pulled up to the wide, glass triple doors of the Las Vegas International Airport. Manny watched as the tall blonde wearing blue jeans and a green blouse and her burly, bald companion, dressed in kakis and a plaid shirt, exited the vehicle. They flashed their credentials to the security guards and then stepped into the private-flight section of the terminal.
Reaching for his bag, Manny turned to motion for Dean and Sophie that the FBI’s personal escort service had arrived, only to discover that they had left his side for the slot machines some thirty feet away.
He shook his head. He’d been so wrapped up with watching for the local agents to arrive, and the facts of the case, that he hadn’t noticed them leave.
Argyle’s possible existence seemed artificial. Made up. Like some way-out plot in a made-for-TV series where the bad, evil villain escapes death and capture only to return to torture, and eventually kill, the protagonist. The good guy. Him.
He ran his hand through his hair.
The antagonist was alive and held but one purpose: to take out the good guys. Period. Except this wasn’t a book or a movie; this was real life and that meant real problems. The thing is, he’d known it for a while. Argyle’s final words had echoed in his mind a million times since Galway. Maybe two million. Each time the conclusion showed itself in a most despicable way, right into his heart of hearts.
Enough talking, Williams. Enough whining. Enough denial. Let’s get on with it.
“You bastard! I’m going to kick the hell out of your shiny case.”
The angry yell caused him to reach for his Glock, and then he stopped as he recognized the voice.
Sophie had just shook hands with her first Las Vegas one-armed bandit.
“Come on, Sophie, I think our ride’s here,” said Dean, pulling at her arm.
“Come on, my butt. This cheating slut just stole twenty bucks from me. I’m taking it out in whoop-ass trade,” she answered, straining to reach the machine.
“Please try again. Please try again,” said the electronic yet seductive voice of the slot.
His partner’s face grew even redder. “What? Oh, you heifer. That’s it. You’re mine.” She continued to try to break free from Dean, who, to his credit, was keeping a straight face. Manny guessed that if Dean wanted to stay out of the local urgent care facility, he’d do well to keep that demeanor.
The truth, however, was that his partner wasn’t upset at the money lost in the machine. Hardly.
In three strides, Manny stood beside her, then he was in her ear, whispering. “Not now, girl. You can take revenge later, but we’ve got bigger problems, yes?”
She stopped struggling, then began to point at the machine, stopped, opened her mouth to speak, stopped, then stood still, slowly removing Dean’s hand from her arm, her composure on the way back.
Manny motioned for Dean to back up as he stayed close to Sophie, speaking softly.
“Listen. I know why you’re pissed. I’m not feeling any better. We have to keep clear heads. If he’s alive, we have to get beyond that and do what we do, okay?”
She nodded, reaching her mouth to his ear. “I’m mad, but I’m scared too. I hate being afraid. Been there, done that. Argyle gave me sleepless nights, and no one does that to me. Now he’s back from the damned River Styx, and I’m trying to figure out, exactly, how that happened.”
“I understand that. I’ve had to check my underwear a couple of times myself. But if we don’t keep it together, we’re dead meat.”
Her smile was electric. “Oh, Lord in Heaven, I’ve got to get that image of you crapping your pants out of my mind.”
When Manny returned her smile, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Manny. I love you, you know? And for the record, I will kick that mechanical bitch’s ass before we leave this town, if I’m alive to do it.”
“I’ll help.”
By then, the local female agent was only a few feet away from them. She hesitated, took another step, and then stopped completely, her smile widening ever so slowly as she looked from Manny and Sophie to Dean.
She’d scanned the CSI thoroughly, her eyes lingering at his bearded face—perhaps a little longer than she intended, Manny noticed.
She abruptly thrust out her hand. “I’m Agent Kimberly Wilkins. This is Agent Ryan Frost.”
Shaking their hands, Manny smiled. “I’m Manny Williams and this is Sophie Lee. I’d introduce Dean Mikus, but you obviously have met before.”
“Great to meet you, Agent Williams and you too, Agent Lee. I’ve heard a lot about you, and it’s good to have the BAU aboard for this case. And you’re right. Dean and I go back to LA.”
She glanced at Dean. “How have you been?”
Dean reached past her and shook Agent Frost’s hand, then stepped back. “I’m doing just fine, Kim. Much better than the last time I saw you. I didn’t know you’d been transferred to Vegas. And I didn’t know you and Josh were in the military together.”
“Yep. We were MPs on the same base. And I transferred almost a year ago. Talk about surprises. I had no idea you were with the BAU, or the FBI, for that matter. I guess I should read the staff roster information a tad closer.”
He nodded. “It was time to leave LA. For a lot of reasons.”
Her smiled faded ever so slightly. “I understand how staying could have been tough.”
“Tough? Like how?” asked Sophie, her eyes narrowing as she stepped closer to Agent Wilkins.
“Ahh, well, that’s a bit personal, and you’re not here to discuss that,” Agent Wilkins said. “We should go. We have a meeting with four folks from the LVPD. They’re anxious for the BAU to do what you do and get them a profile. We get some doozy cases out here, but nothing like this one. Frost?”
She then spun on her heel and headed for the SUV.
“Okay. We’ll load you up and get you checked into the Egyptian, then head for the office and get this investigation started,” said Agent Frost.
He motioned for them to follow. Manny, Sophie, and Dean picked up their bags. Sophie and Dean were walking in front of him, talking low.
“What the hell is that about, Mikus?”
“Old history, Sophie. We can talk later, okay?”
“Ya think? I’m not blond, like your ‘friend’ up there. It didn’t look like old history to my Asian ass.”
“It is. Let’s drop this until later. Besides, who compares to you?”
“Oh. Good answer, but you still got some ’splainin’ to do, Lucy. She doesn’t even have slanted eyes like mine.”
Then Sophie strode ahead of Dean, stepped out into the Nevada heat where an FBI vehicle waited and threw her bag in the back before she climbed into the rear seat.
As they reached the SUV, Dean glanced at Manny and shrugged.
“She’ll be fine, you just need to talk to her,” said Manny softly.
He shook his head. “Yeah. You’re right. Besides, we’ve got more pressing matters than my old love life, right?”
Manny nodded, and then watched as Dean joined Sophie in the back seat.
“More pressing matters indeed,” he whispered, the perspiration already forming above his lip as he slammed the rear door of the SUV and climbed into the air-conditioned truck.