Dangerous Comforts (The Ruby Danger Series Book 3) Read online

  Hari picked up his fork, trying not to stare at Oliver’s crooked features. Cars in Glasgow must pack quite a punch.

  Their twelve-hour flight included a stop at Washington’s Dulles airport to refuel. But due to the time difference, Hari and Oliver landed in Las Vegas three hours after they’d left London. Since their seats reclined into beds, complete with WWA silk pajamas, the journey had been effortless. Hari slept for six hours and awoke to a refreshing shower followed by a hot breakfast. Sipping his freshly squeezed orange juice, he couldn’t help but grin at the air hostess. If this was any indication of his accommodations in Las Vegas, working on this case was going to be quite pleasant. Perhaps he should take a few more days than necessary to solve it. Just to be thorough. Still grinning, he gazed out the window at the endless blue sky.

  Hari glanced over at Oliver, who downed another pill and looked at him, his expression unreadable.

  Chapter Sixteen

  At Henderson Airport in Las Vegas, Hari and Oliver walked across the tarmac to a black Town Car. A woman with full lips and a bemused expression leaned against the hood. Brunette hair cascaded over the sleeveless black blouse that clung to her full breasts. She straightened up and walked over to Hari.

  “Welcome back, Daniel. I’ve missed you.”

  Hari’s eyes traveled from her blouse to the handgun tucked into a holster at her waist.

  “And you are—?”

  “Ana Valenzuela. Your wife.”

  He had been in Las Vegas less than ten minutes and already things had spiraled out of his control.

  “My what?”

  Ana stepped closer, her breasts bobbing. Hari pulled his gaze up to her face, now a foot from his own. Sliding her arms around his neck, she touched her mouth to his ear.

  “Your wife,” she whispered.

  She drew her head back, smiled again and leaned in to kiss him. It was a long kiss, the kind that leads to mingled tongues and full body contact. Before he knew what he was doing, he had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. Viva Las Vegas.

  Ana pulled back, tapping his face with her hand.

  “Let’s get to work, shall we?” She swiveled on a three-inch heel and strutted back to the waiting Town Car. Hari watched her walk away, his mouth agape. Then he hustled after her.

  Oliver was already at the car, changing into a blue jacket and adding a peaked cap.

  “The hotel, please, Iain,” Ana said as she got into the back seat. Oliver nodded, and his lip curled in a smile while he held the door open for Hari. Speechless, Hari climbed into the back seat.

  As the car pulled away from the airport, he turned to Ana.

  “I’m not complaining, but what was that about?” He pointed over his shoulder at the tarmac.

  “Since you’re in Vegas incognito,” Ana said, “we thought it would be best if you and I were,” she held up her left hand to display a gold band on her ring finger, “married.” She opened her handbag, extracted a matching band and handed it to him.

  He held it in his hand a moment before slipping it on.

  “Watson didn’t mention this.”

  “Hmm.” She gave him a pitying glance. “You haven’t known him long, have you?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Look, I’m here to help you with the case, nothing else. Watson thought you might need backup. Besides Iain, I mean.”

  Hari gave the back of Oliver’s head a puzzled glance before leaning back. The Town Car passed the iconic Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign and turned onto Tropicana Avenue, then again onto Las Vegas Boulevard. An enormous lion, resplendent in gold, reposed before the MGM Grand. Across the street a Statue of Liberty replica stood guard over the New York New York hotel and casino.

  Hari stared up at Lady Liberty. Two months ago Ruby had shown him another replica of the famous statue, but that one gazed out over the Seine. That night in Paris had been the first time in years he had allowed himself to hope that her feelings for him had changed. That she might finally care for him the way he always had for her. Even his month-long affair with Leta had not weakened that yearning. The car drove on until another reminder loomed on their right, a replica of the Eiffel Tower. He shook his head. He was being ridiculous.

  “Speaking of the case, have there been any developments?”

  “Watson thinks this is an inside job—”

  “He told me.”

  “—so we should start with the IT employees.”

  “That’s not a new development. The IT employees have always been the most logical suspects. They can access the data without arousing suspicion.”

  “Agreed. But one called in sick today. Zeke Turner.” Ana slid on a white linen jacket, covering the holster at her waist, and fluffed her hair.

  “Has the hotel checked up on him?”

  “They’ve been phoning, but he’s not answering.”

  “That’s suspicious. If he’s home sick, why isn’t he answering the phone?”

  “I dunno, but it doesn’t affect your job. You’re here to crunch the numbers, or whatever it is you do.” She shrugged. “I don’t understand forensic accounting, sorry. I’m more the action type.”

  “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “Like I said,” Ana replied, tapping the handgun under her jacket, “I’m only backup.”

  The car veered to the right and the Starlight Hotel and Casino loomed before them, its aluminum funnels and cones extending over a hundred feet into the sky to lean in all directions. A neon sign shaped like a shooting star spanned the hotel’s facade. The words Starlight Casino raced from the star’s tail to its head, exploding in a shower of neon sparks.

  “We’re on,” Ana said when the car came to a stop.

  Oliver got out to retrieve their bags from the trunk while a bellhop trundled over a luggage rack. A uniformed doorman opened Ana’s door and extended a white-gloved hand. Ana lightly rested her hand on his and stepped from the car. Hari followed Ana and the doorman into the hotel lobby and over to the gleaming stainless steel front desk that hugged the curved wall for forty feet. He stared up at the domed cobalt ceiling with its thousands of winking lights.

  A woman behind the counter pushed a paper and pen toward him.

  “Mr. Yanez, could you—”

  Ana poked him and Hari jumped. Pay attention, Mr. Yanez. He reached for the pen. The clerk tucked two key cards into matching cardboard sleeves and slid them across the counter.

  “I hope you’ll enjoy the Andromeda Suite. It’s our finest.”

  As he turned to follow the bellhop, Hari glanced back at the entrance. Oliver stood there, tracking them both with his eyes. When he noticed Hari’s gaze, he lifted one hand and tapped a single finger to his cap in a mock salute. He didn’t smile.

  * * *

  Hari handed the bellhop a twenty and closed the door. Ana was already in the sunken conversation pit, twisting the wire off a bottle of champagne. She eased out the cork with a loud pop, and vapor curled from the bottle.

  “Can I pour you a glass?”

  “Later, maybe.” Hari slipped off his shoes. His toes sank into the plush carpet as he walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Distant mountains were barely discernible in the darkening sky while traffic streamed along the Strip eighteen floors below.

  “Tell me about Iain Oliver. If he’s head of North American security for Watson, why is he driving our car?”

  “Supposedly because it allows him to blend in. But really it’s because he’s a blowhard who likes to show off.” She filled a champagne glass and took a swallow, looking at him over the rim. “And he wants to keep an eye on you.”

  “Why?”

  “Like I said, a blowhard.” She shrugged. “If I were you, I’d keep my mouth shut around Iain. He does Watson’s dirty work.”

  “Such as what?”

  Ana shoved the bottle into the ice-filled cooler. Then she slipped off her shoes and settled into the leather sofa with her feet on the coffee table. Sipping her cham
pagne, she bent to massage her toes.

  Hari cleared his throat.

  “On the plane, when we had lunch, the flight attendant served Oliver—”

  “Mush?”

  Hari nodded. “Oliver mentioned a car accident.”

  “He was having you on. The real story has to do with their early days in Glasgow—Iain and Watson, that is. There was a street brawl and Iain was beaten pretty bad. Every bone in his face was broken. He nearly died.”

  “But not Watson?”

  “No. He wasn’t there, or he escaped somehow, or something. I don’t know much about it, only what I’ve heard. It was decades ago.” With a shrug, she settled back against the sofa. “Take my advice, though. Don’t ask Iain about it again.”

  “Point taken. Since we’re working together, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

  “There’s not much to tell. I used to own a security business here in town. Inherited it from my dad. Bodyguards, a little corporate espionage, and so on.”

  “Used to own?”

  “My business went under. Long story. Watson bought me out.” She took another swallow and placed her glass on the coffee table with a scowl. “After Iain hired away most of my staff.”

  “Did Watson give you a good price?”

  “I wasn’t in a position to bargain. What about you?”

  “I was chief financial officer for a Wall Street firm. It went under, too. Now I’m a fraud investigator. Freelance.”

  “You miss it, don’t you?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” She picked up her glass again. “Most guys would walk in here and be impressed. But not you. You’re used to this. The suite, the clothes, the private plane—it’s nothing to you.”

  Hari walked to the bar and sat on a stool, facing her.

  “We should get started.”

  “Sorry. Curiosity is an occupational hazard with me.”

  “Don’t worry about it. My partner does it all the time.”

  “Ruby Delaney, right? She’s—”

  “Not here.” Hari got to his feet. “What’s next?”

  “A change of clothes, for one thing. Then I’ll play blackjack and tease out the staff gossip. You should make yourself conspicuous. Throw a little money—hell, a lot of money—around. Make sure people notice you. Convince them you’re somebody who it might pay to confide in. Somebody who might even be their new boss.” Ana paused, pursing her lips. “Try not to act like an accountant.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ruby pulled up outside Millie’s bungalow and bent her head to peer at a broken pane in the front window. The house had been empty for only two days, but already it had attracted vandals.

  The damage made her even more determined to help the elderly woman. She had made her mortgage payments every month. Why should she lose her home? It wasn’t fair. And if it was fraud, why hadn’t someone at her bank reported it?

  Shaking her head, Ruby pulled a notepad and pen from her purse and wrote, Tinkerbelle is with Dr. Salgado at the Summerwood Clinic. She folded the note and wrote Millie’s name on the front, intending to leave it on the front door. After that, she wasn’t sure what to do.

  Hari could help her with Millie’s case, though. He might even be intrigued by the challenge. Maybe even enough to get back to work. Restoring the notepad to her bag, she pulled out her phone and keyed in his number. It rang and rang. She was about to hang up when he answered.

  “Why, hello there,” he boomed.

  She sat back in astonishment. “Hari? You sound great.”

  “Ruby?” His voice dropped an octave. “Is that you?”

  “Are you feeling better? Last time we spoke, you seemed—” she ran a finger over the Audi’s dashboard, “never mind. Have you been getting out more?”

  Ding, ding, ding, ding! The phone clanged in her ear and she pulled it away, wincing. When the ringing stopped, she pulled it back.

  “What was that racket?”

  “Ah … game show on TV. Sorry. How are things on the set?”

  “It’s great. We’ve been up to all hours. Filming, I mean.”

  “That sounds tough. Philippe Fortier must be a—”

  “A wonderful director, yes.” She bit her lip, remembering that Hari didn’t know she was in Las Vegas. “By the way, I meant to tell you … that is, I have something to ask you—”

  Ding, ding, ding, ding!

  “Ruby, I’m sorry, I don’t have time to talk right now.”

  She felt a flash of irritation. A game show on TV was that important?

  “Are you packing to come back to New York?”

  “What? No.”

  “Then what could you possibly be doing that you can’t drop for five minutes?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  She drew her head back in surprise.

  “I see.”

  “No, wait, I’m sorry. One minute.”

  The background noise dropped off—muffled, she assumed, by his hand over the phone while he turned down the television. When he came back on the line, the noise was gone.

  “What did you want to ask me?”

  “I’m working on a case, and I was hoping you could help me. How much do you know about mortgage fraud?”

  “What do you mean, ‘working on a case?’ I thought you were filming.”

  “I am. But we’re taking the weekend off, and I ran into this woman who lost her house—”

  “Email me the details and I’ll take a look when I have time.”

  She shook her head, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

  “That’s okay, it’s not necessary. I just thought you might be interested.”

  “I’ll help you, I just can’t do it this minute.”

  “When, then? Tomorrow?”

  “Ah … I’m not sure.”

  “For God’s sake, Hari, I don’t understand you at all. You’ve been moping about for weeks and now suddenly you’re busy? What’s her name?”

  “What?” Hari’s voice rose. “What kind of a question is that?”

  Ruby winced. What had possessed her to say that? “I’m sorry—”

  “What do you care anyway? I could be dating the entire Rockettes chorus line and it wouldn’t make any difference to you.”

  “Hari—”

  “I have to go.” He clicked off the call.

  She flung the phone down on the seat beside her, staring through the car window at Millie’s house. If Hari didn’t want to help her, the hell with him. She’d show him that she could solve a case all on her own. With the note in her hand, she marched up the walkway to Millie’s front door, ignoring the loose paving slabs that wobbled under her feet. She tucked the paper under the foreclosure notice and turned back to the car. Reaching for the Audi’s door handle, she stopped.

  A flicker in the window of Millie’s neighbor caught her eye. The curtain again. Maybe this time that woman would be willing to talk. Ruby waved. The neighbor stood with her arms crossed, staring. She must have called the police yesterday, so obviously she was interested. Maybe she knew where to find Millie. Ruby strode up the walkway and pushed the buzzer. Chimes played a melody set to Blue Danube. She waited, trying not to laugh, as the notes faded.

  The door opened. A formidable woman, five-ten and over two hundred pounds, stood in the entrance. Her mouth pursed and a frown creased her forehead.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Ruby thrust out her hand, smiling broadly.

  “Hi. I’m a friend of Millie’s.”

  “Who?”

  “Millie Havelock, your neighbor?” Ruby pointed at the neighboring house.

  The woman leaned out of the door to look in that direction.

  “Oh, her.”

  “I’ve been helping Millie, but she’s disappeared, and I have her dog. I thought you might be able to answer a few questions. Do you know where she is?”

  Running her tongue around her lips, the woman glanced up and down the street.


  “No idea.” She held the door open. “You can come in if you want, but only until my story comes on. I missed it yesterday.”

  Ruby stepped across the threshold and the woman closed the door behind her. The feeble glow from a light sconce over a mirror failed to lift the gloom in the hallway. From the living room came the sound of a game show.

  ‘I’ll take Stupid Answers for two hundred dollars, Alex.’ The studio audience applauded. The woman crossed her arms and stared at Ruby.

  “So? What did you want?”

  “I thought you might like to know that Millie was taken to the hospital yesterday after … she was hit by a car.” Ruby swallowed. Surely there was no need to mention whose car. “After the sheriff had foreclosed on her house.”

  The woman considered this, rocking on her heels.

  “That’s a pretty rough day.”

  “I know, right? But she’s left the hospital, and no one seems to know where she’s gone.”

  “Did you talk to her son?”

  “Do you have his address?”

  “I used to.” Her brow furrowed, deepening the crease in her forehead. She walked down the hall into the kitchen and stopped at the fridge which was covered in take-out menus, reminder notices, and shopping lists. Ruby held her breath.

  From the living room came, ‘Players, you’ve got thirty seconds. Good luck,’ followed by loud ticking.

  The woman detached a magnet and took down a slip of paper. She walked back down the hall and handed it over.

  “This is all I’ve got.” The paper was yellowing and curled at the edges. Havelock’s son was scrawled across it with a phone number underneath.

  “How long have you had this?”

  “No idea. Years, I guess. I hardly ever see the guy to be honest. I think he visits her at night. He’s a little … rough around the edges, if you get my drift. Not all that sociable.”

  “He never comes by in the daytime?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed.” She took a few steps to the door and stood, crossing her arms. “But I don’t keep tabs on my neighbors.”