Chapter 1

“What am I going to do with you, Brigh?”

Jake Carrington stared down the brown-eyed beauty, then bent over to wipe the floor with the cleaner and paper towels. What a way to spend his much-needed day off. The dog had a nervous bladder, which let loose every time the doorbell rang. What was I thinking adopting a dog now? Oh, he knew what he was doing. We each understand cruelty. They made quite the pair. Brigh learning to trust again, and him, trying to keep his mind occupied while dealing with the possible release of George Spaulding, the man convicted of killing his sister. Then there was Mia, the love of his life who had dumped him. He missed her though she wasn’t an easy woman to get along with. It had taken only one look into Brigh’s big, chocolate eyes, for the dog to own him lock, stock, and barrel.

The bell rang again. Jake pointed to Brigh before he started toward the door. “Go lie down.” Trembling, she inched her way to her bed. With one last look at the dog, Jake turned and opened the door.

“Why didn’t you answer the door?” his partner, Sergeant Louie Romanelli, asked.

“Me and Brigh were having a conversation on protocol.”

Louie scratched his chin, staring first at Jake then at Brigh.

This is all Louie’s fault anyway. He pushed Brigh on me. Jake studied his friend and partner as he walked in the house. With his olive complexion and brown hair and eyes, Louie was his opposite in every way except for height and weight. He was the one man Jake would go through a door with and never give it a second thought.

Brigh turned her big doe eyes up at him as if she knew what he was thinking. Not for one minute did he regret his decision to adopt her, but, it was going to take some big-time adjustments for the both of them before they got used to each other. At least the dog occupied his thoughts and pushed Mia out. And what was he going to do about her? Jake bent and gave Brigh a rub between the ears.

The two men went into Jake’s comfortably furnished living room.

“I thought Brigh and I should get acquainted with each other,” Louie said. “LJ will be over later to play with her. This way they’ll get used to each other for her walks.”

Louie’s teenage son bit at the chance to make some money. Jake hired him to walk the dog after school to keep Brigh from getting lonely. It was also insurance he’d have no surprises waiting for him when he got home from work.

“I’m glad he’s agreed to walk her every day after school. Brigh’s one skittish dog, she hates to be alone.”

“It’s been quiet, don’t you think?”

“After dealing with the last two cases, I don’t mind the quiet. I’m enjoying the down time. It’s giving me time to adjust to the addition of the Missing Persons Department.”

“Yeah, anything interesting there?”

The missing person’s case he was looking into intrigued him. He’d bet the house the guy was dead.

“A few cases I’m reviewing there.” Jake sat on the couch. Brigh inched over and laid her head upon his lap. He stroked a hand over her coat.

As Louie approached, Brigh’s body shook like a tree in a storm. “Shush, it’s all right. Louie, sit for a few minutes here but don’t touch her.”

“Have you heard from Mia?” Louie asked.

“No, and I told you, the subject’s off limits.”

Louie shrugged.

“Now start to pet Brigh while I’m holding her. Once she gets used to you, I’m going to head to the pet store.”

“You want me to babysit your dog?” Louie tossed him a pained look.

“Yes, until LJ shows up.”

“Jake, it’s a dog. She’ll be fine on her own. Besides, I need to run some errands for Sophia.”

“Then I’ll take her with me.”

Louie cocked his head to the side, studied him, and then left without another word. Alone, Jake and Brigh gauged each other.

“I’m not going to baby you.” Brigh licked his face. Crap, the dog already has me wrapped around her paws.

On the ride to the store, Brigh stuck her nose out the window. After he parked, he lowered the window for Brigh and then poured some water into the dish he’d brought along for her. Inside the pet store, he picked up a few chew toys and more dog food. If he didn’t gain control, he’d buy out the whole damn store for the dog. Deciding he had enough stuff, he got in line to check out.

A riot of red curls greeted him. He wasn’t one for redheads, but he wanted to see the face all that hair belonged to. A small boy darted between him and the woman.

“Mom, can I get this for Zelly?”

He got his first look of the woman’s face when she turned to speak to the child. Deep green eyes stared down at the boy. Her bowed mouth firmed as she spoke. “Trevor, we have enough stuff for the cat. Put it back. And apologize to the man for pushing by him.”

“He’s fine,” Jake said.

“Sorry, mister.”

The kid pushed past him. Jake smiled at the woman before she turned back to the clerk to continue checking out.

He paid the kid at the counter, headed to his car, and put his all purchases, except for the chew toy, in the trunk. He unwrapped the rubbery toy and placed it in front of Brigh. Once he was sure Brigh was okay, he walked across the lot to the grocery store. He had to eat too.

* * * *

Kyra Russell brought Trevor back to his father’s place. A depressing action—it ripped at her heart as she left him there.

“You’re welcome to come in,” Tom Russell said.

“Trevor, give Mommy a kiss. And I’ll see you on Wednesday.” She wrapped her arms around her son.

“We could be a family again if you’d get help.”

She swallowed the barb that jumped to her lips. Instead she said, “We’ve been over this, Tommy. Leave it be.” She released Trevor and left with a broken heart.

She didn’t remember when she’d given her soul to the devil. But she had. Leaving Trevor behind proved it. Her life, her son, her marriage had been destroyed by no one but her. She pulled the car from the curb. Thoughts of her cold, empty condo pulled her mood lower. Without her son, the place always reminded her of the morgue. Noise and people were what she needed. Turning the car around, she headed to the casino.

Stepping into the lobby from the garage elevator, the cheap glitz, the noise, the smoke seeped into her bones, and relaxed her. Ah, she was home and better yet, her favorite machine stood empty. Slot machine therapy is better than any shrink, she thought.

* * * *

“Son of a mother,” Kyra whispered, two hours later.

Life’s not fair. Since she’d been here she’d dumped over three thousand dollars into the freakin’ machine. I can’t believe this bitch sat right down and hit the jackpot on the first spin. I’ll never get Trevor back this way.

Kyra Russell pushed her long hair back over her shoulder. Why couldn’t she hit the jackpot? Ten grand would pay for the lawyer to fight Tom for custody. Taking another hundred-dollar bill out of her purse, she stuffed it into the machine and banged the maximum-credit button. Her stomach jumped with excitement as the wheels spun. Each time, her mind cheered, This is it!

As the wheels rolled into place, a cold chill raced through her veins. One by one, they landed. By the time the second symbol stilled, she realized she’d lost again. Her heart hammered in her ears like a jackhammer on concrete, spiked her anger. It’s the next one, she told herself, banging the maximum-credit button again. She needed to take a pee break, but didn’t dare leave her machine for fear someone else would hit the jackpot after she’d primed the machine.

Kyra counted along with the attendant as he paid the woman next to her, seventy-five big ones. The attendant turned to leave. Kyra waved him down.

“Excuse me,” she called.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I need to use the restroom. Can you watch my machine or lock it down?”

“I need to call a supervisor over. It’ll be a few minutes.”

He pressed the button in his earpiece, whispered into it. After ten minutes, the supervisor came over and locked down the machine for her, and informed her she had to be back within the hour or they’d release it.

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem, Kyra,” the supervisor said.

He read her name off her reward card, addressing her as if he knew her. Well, screw him.

She pushed off her seat and rushed to the ladies’ room. Kyra didn’t want to stay away too long, giving them a chance to reprogram the machine against her or reset it. She hated the new system with the tickets. Since they’d installed it, she hadn’t won like she used to. Why else would she lose all the time?

Winning used to be the norm when she had started. One night she’d won eight thousand dollars, and the next night there she’d won twenty-five thousand dollars on one spin. The feeling was indescribable when those wheels rolled into place and the bells went off. The noise the machine made when it hit a jackpot had crowds surrounding her. On the night of her big win, she’d gone home with twenty thousand dollars—she’d blown five grand trying to win more. Greed always took over. Winning excited her but not as much as the rush, the euphoria she got waiting for the wheels to fall into place.

The casino had treated her like royalty and had given her a host. He got her into the popular shows or restaurants anytime she wanted. Nothing was too good for Kyra, as long as she showed up and put her money into the machine. She became a regular at the players’ lounge—eat and drink for free. Yeah, free, her ass. The cost was extreme. Somewhere along the line, she’d lost her self-respect—along with her marriage, her son, and her savings.

As time went by, she put more money into the machines, hoping for bigger payouts. How it got out of control was anyone’s guess. But soon everything she loved would be gone. The bastard doesn’t want custody of Trevor—he wants to bring me to my knees.

Losing Trevor would kill her. He needed her. She needed him. A big win would solve everything. Tears rolled down her face as she sat on the toilet. Not caring who heard her cry, she whispered, “Please, God, give me one big win and I promise I’ll never gamble again.”

She listened, but He didn’t answer. She washed up and hurried back to her machine. Three hundred dollars left, her Visa card maxed out. Worse, the payment on her loan was due soon. Tommy—the asshole—had drained their bank account. Her debit card no longer worked.

Kyra tried to stay away, honestly, she did. But after a day she’d get antsy. Her fingers itched. More than anything, she needed to get to the casino. She couldn’t explain it to anyone. Hell—she couldn’t explain it to herself. No wonder the nuns at school always preached against the evils of gambling.

Head down, she sat at her machine, waiting on the supervisor to come back—to unlock the machine. Her fingers itched, she wanted to play again. She needed the win. A hand landed on her shoulder, startling her. Jerking away, Kyra turned to see mean muddy eyes looking at her. Joe Dillon’s dark eyes matched his greased back hair. Small in stature, he lorded over his people. Crap, not the supervisor. Joe Dillon, not the person I want to see right now.

“Kyra.”

“Joe.”

“How’s it going?” Her host sat down next to her.

“Not good,” she whined.

“I’m sorry to hear it. Your payment is due this week.”

Double crapola. “Yes, I know.”

“Why don’t you leave the machine for a while? Come have something to eat with me?”

“Why?” What did he want, besides money?

“Let’s discuss your loan payment over dinner, explore your options.”

What options? There weren’t any. All week she’d racked her brain trying to find a solution. Though a quiet guy, Joe scared her. He wasn’t a person she’d want to cross. He worked for both the casino and the loan company. When she got in trouble and owed the casino the money, he had gotten her the loan when her bank wouldn’t give her one. Deep inside, she understood he could destroy her.

He might be the final nail in her coffin.

* * * *

Well, we got what we wished for, Jake thought as he pulled to the curb. He noted Louie hadn’t arrived yet. As he climbed out of the car, he spotted the uniform. Kudos to Russo, he’d cordoned off the scene and had the bystanders pushed back. Russo, a twenty-year veteran, understood his job. At five-eight, the guy packed a solid punch, Jake knew. A few times he and Frankie had sparred in the gym.

“How many people trampled my scene, Frankie?” Jake asked, studying the body and surrounding area.

“No one, I got here before the EMTs, Lieutenant. When I arrived I found the body, not the caller. Nothing’s been touched. It was obvious he was dead a while. I didn’t let the EMTs near him.” Jake nodded for Russo to continue. “At first, with all his track marks, it looked like an overdose, but…”

“Give me a minute,” Jake said. He liked to form his own impressions before the uniform gave his. He walked over to the body, leaned down, and studied it. Russo was right. The wound on the head hadn’t been created by his fall. Someone had whacked the poor kid hard on the noggin.

Louie walked up to him with a coffee in his hand.

“You got one for me?” Jake asked.

“No, but I’ll share. What have we got?” Louie asked as he sipped his drink.

Damn, that coffee smells good, Jake thought.

The medical examiner pulled up behind Louie’s car. The crime scene boys were scouring the area outside the scene until the M.E. got a chance to examine the body.

“How’d we get the top dog on an O.D. victim?” Jake asked.

A tall, lanky man, Lang always looked in need of a meal. The doctor carried his one hundred and eighty pounds on a six-foot-four frame. His skin gave off a translucent glow, the same color as the corpses. Lang worked ridiculously long hours, not seeming to care if he saw daylight or not.

“Been a wild night, Jake. The team’s spread all over the state,” Doc Lang said.

Jake stepped away from the body to stand beside Louie. “After Doc Lang finishes up, I’ll look for cash, needles, or his stash. But I’m betting it’s gone,” Louie said.

“Hopefully, they left his I.D.”

“You smell like alcohol. Where are you coming from?” Louie asked.

“I was at a party. Is it that bad?” Jake wasn’t on call tonight but dispatch had notified him when the lieutenant on duty had been tied up on another homicide.

“Yeah, I better take the lead on this one. We don’t want to compromise the case,” Louie said.

Jake nodded.

The department was a political landmine at the moment. He stepped away from the scene. At his car, he wrote down his impressions. Diagramed the angle of the body, and proceeded to make notes about the wound and needle marks on the body. He’d compare them to Louie’s and the crime scene team tomorrow.