Sophie burst through the revolving door. Dean smiled. Watching her drop her bag, raise her arms, and tell Manny that she already felt like Vegas was hers, made him laugh out loud. It must have caught Manny’s funny bone as well, because for one of the few times since they’d left Lansing, Manny laughed out loud. A good sign.
His complex friend and resident genius when it came to reading people could take too much upon himself. A trait that haunted most workaholics, no doubt; yet he’d wager a few bucks that none of them had Manny’s heart, which probably amplified his stress level times two.
“Just what part of Vegas is yours?” asked Dean.
“Damn, you’re slow, boy. The colorful lights, the sounds of slots and screaming winners, the vanilla incense smell of this place. Hell, even the sight of working girls just trying to make a buck adds to the whole shebang.”
“What about all those germs? There could millions on the chips, the slot buttons. Hell, never mind the restrooms and bars,” said Dean, that old, uncomfortable feeling returning.
“Are you kidding me?”
Sophie then turned and kissed him full on the lips. Her mouth, like always, was a place somewhere between the third and fourth heaven. He felt warmer.
“How many germs did I just give you swapping spit? I don’t hear you bitching about that, right?” she said, hands on hips.
He grinned. “Okay. Point taken. You’ll just have to keep reminding me.”
“In your dreams. Changing out of that yellow paisley shirt and hat might help.”
“Whatever. Clothes make the man. I’m that man.”
“Whatever.”
She turned toward Manny. “And don’t give me any crap. I know what time it is, and I know when we meet in the morning, and while I do care what you think, you ain’t my mama, cool?”
Manny laughed again. “You seem to know a lot. And you’re right, there are no mamas here. But I need you working on all cylinders. Plus, you need to watch who and what’s going on around you. We have a dead agent and a psycho running to and fro who is looking for us.”
“You’re an amazing buzzkill, Williams. I can take care of myself and Dean too. We’re good to go. Besides, maybe I, we, should be turning this place upside down, you know?”
Dean started to ask why, then realized the goddess he’d fallen head over heels for in San Juan those months ago was right. He didn’t care for the ramifications, like getting little or no sleep and having his head on a swivel, but they just might find something or someone of interest. Then again, something or someone could find them.
“She has a point, boss. I’d be willing to help with this task, as unpleasant as it might be,” he said, tongue firmly in cheek.
Manny’s eyes twinkled despite being obviously tired and melancholy. “You’re such a trooper, Dean.”
Sophie elbowed him. “Unpleasant? I should kick—oh wait. I get it . . . yeah, he’s right, Manny.”
Raising his hands, Manny shrugged. “Okay. Here’s the deal. Let’s check in, get to our rooms, make a little bit of a plan, and then we’ll rotate every two hours. That way we’ll get some sleep as well as getting a feel for this place. Since three of the bodies were found near here, that makes perfect—”
Dean looked away from Sophie and followed Manny’s eyes toward the concierge desk, then over to security.
Three uniformed officers, followed by three more from the resort’s yellow-clad security team, hurried through the low door-gate, moving directly toward them. Movement from the left caught his eyes, and he watched as a man and a woman, who looked like cops, also zeroed in on the three of them. Feeling like he was banking a sharp curve on the roller coaster in New York, New York, Dean’s stomach clenched and dropped to his toes. He guessed their plans for the evening were about to be scrambled.
The two plain-clothed cops got to them fast. The black-haired, attractive woman spoke first.
“Agent Williams? I’m Detective Teachout, and this is my partner Detective Lane.”
Dean recognized the names as two of LVPD that were to meet with them in the morning.
Manny did too. Dean’s guts twisted more as Williams released his infamous “oh shit” look.
Following suit, Sophie crossed her arms and shifted her weight in expectation.
“I am. This is Agent Lee and Agent Mikus.”
Looking at Teachout, her partner, then the three blues and three security officers, he noticed Manny’s slight nod as he skipped over any greeting. Full cop-mode came quicker for Manny than him, but adrenaline is a wonderful drug. Dean forgot about being mentally and physically exhausted, and was suddenly ready for what was next.
“I’d ask you what has happened, but I suppose I know. Where’s the body?” asked Manny.
Teachout raised her eyebrows. “And I’d ask how you knew that, but your reputation precedes you, and I guess you’ve got to know something’s wrong.”
“Educated guess, I suppose,” Manny answered.
“At any rate, this homicide is bizarre. Even beyond the others.”
Manny gave her a quick, humorless grin. “I’d expect nothing less.”
“Not like this. Never like this,” she said, her voice struggling to stay calm.
“If you say so. Lead the way,” said Manny.
Indulging in one more long look, Teachout shrugged and motioned for them to follow her.
Falling in line behind Sophie, Dean joined the law-enforcement entourage as they reached the security elevators and climbed in.
He found himself hoping for the best and dreading the worst. Sophie must have been thinking the same thing. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
She was trying to strengthen him, but it didn’t work. He liked being touched by her, no question, yet her action only confirmed that another level of hell was coming their way.
As the elevator stopped and opened on the tenth floor, he wondered briefly how many levels there could be in this crazy bastard’s world.
They walked into the room, and any sense of normal expectations was quickly, and finally, ushered from his mind.
Teachout was right.