Unlucky (27 page)

"I'm sorry for that," Mallory said. "Jake and I are doing everything we can to help win Reginald the money he needs to save the casino."

"I'm sure you are, even though I don't pretend to understand half of what's going on, but enough about all that," Glenda said, and rose from the desk. "I don't suppose the FBI is interested in my and Reginald's bedroom preferences, although it might make some interesting reading."

She gave them a smile, then looked at Jake. "You said on the phone you're trying to track someone down who might have stayed here."

"That's right," Jake said. "Probably within the last six months or so."

Glenda nodded and stepped out of the manager's office and into the hallway of the main building, beckoning them to follow.

"I checked the property records after you called," Glenda said as they walked. "Every one of our residents has been here for more than two years, and all are either elderly or disabled. But there's a couple of vacant units at the back of the building that I've been needing to rehab and just haven't had the time to get around to it. Someone could have stayed there without me knowing, I suppose. It's been months since I've been in any of them."

"Did you go in them after my call?" Jake asked.

Glenda shook her head. "No way. My great-uncle was a district attorney. I grew up on complaints of tainted evidence and mishandled crime scenes. I know better."

Jake grinned. "If only everyone had a district attorney as an uncle."

Glenda pointed to two doors at the end of the hallway and handed Jake a key. "That master key should open both doors. Do you need me to stick around?"

Jake took the key from her and nodded. "If you don't mind. You're the only person who'll know if something is out of place. Just try not to touch anything."

"Sounds familiar," Mallory mumbled.

Glenda looked back at her and motioned for her to enter. "FBI agents first."

Mallory laughed. "I'm not really an FBI agent--I'm a demolition foreman."

Glenda stared at her for a moment, then smiled. "Hey, whatever role-playing works for you, I'm okay with it."

Deciding an explanation would take too long and would be far too confusing, Mallory just stepped into the apartment after Jake and started poking her head into rooms, careful not to touch anything. As she stepped out of the kitchen into the hallway, Jake emerged from the bathroom.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Clean as a whistle," Jake said, "and the dust is about right for the length of time Glenda claims it's been empty."

Jake locked the door to the first apartment, and they took the few short steps down the hall to the remaining door. Jake unlocked the door and pushed the door open for them to enter. The difference in the two apartments was immediately apparent.

The second apartment was clean. Not spotless but definitely lacking the buildup of dust that should have been present if it had been empty for months. Jake stepped into a bedroom just off the living area, and Mallory slipped down the hall and into the master bedroom. The master bathroom had a few items on the sink--toothbrush, toothpaste and some dental floss.

"Jake," she yelled down the hall. "I got something in here."

Jake hurried into the bedroom, Glenda close behind, and Mallory pointed to the bathroom. "There are toiletries in there. Looks like they've been used recently."

Jake pulled a clear plastic bag out of his pocket and pulled on a set of gloves. "Check out the rest of the room," he instructed.

Mallory and Glenda walked the length of the bedroom, checking the closet and the built-in hamper, but the remainder of the room was clean. "This is sort of a weird master bedroom," Mallory observed. "There are no windows on this side of the apartment at all."

Glenda nodded. "That was one of the reasons I wanted the rehab. Who wants a master bed and bath with no natural light?"

Mallory looked around the room again. Something about this just wasn't right, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what. She scanned the walls again, hoping for a clue, something to let her know why this whole situation felt so off and when she reached the open door, she paused.

Frowning, she crossed the room and studied the dead bolt on the bedroom door, a shiny, new dead bolt. "Jake, get over here," she said as the realization of what was wrong with the room hit her full force.

"Take a look at this suite," she said to him. "There's no way out but this door and the dead bolt is on the wrong side." She flipped the door open to show him the hardware. "Whoever was staying here--it wasn't voluntary."

Glenda stared at Mallory, a frightened look on her face. "You think someone was held captive here? Oh, my God, what a horrible thought."

"Maybe not so horrible," Jake said. "It might mean the guy I'm looking for is still alive." He looked around the room then back at the door. "But why didn't anyone hear them?"

Glenda cleared her throat, still looking a bit horrified.

"This building is really old and solid. You wouldn't hear anything through the outside walls, and with the apartment next to this one empty..."

"What about across the hall?" Jake asked.

"Directly across the hall is storage and no one's been in there in months. The next door down is Mr. Wilson, but he's dam near deaf."

Jake nodded. "Is it all right if we talk to Mr. Wilson? Maybe he saw something."

Glenda glanced once more at the dead bolt and exited the bedroom. "Come with me," she said as they walked out of the apartment and a little ways down the hall. She knocked on the door, and they heard some rustling about inside. It took a while, but finally the door opened and a man who must have been about a hundred years old stared out at them.

"I ain't buying nothing," he yelled, and started to close the door again.

Glenda placed one hand on the door, preventing him from closing it and said in a loud voice, "Mr. Wilson, it's Glenda--I own the building, remember?"

Mr. Wilson stared down at her for a moment, and Mallory wondered just how bad the mind deteriorated if you had trouble remembering a three-foot-tall person. Finally his face cleared, and he smiled. "Oh yeah. I remember now," he said, the volume on his reply not decreasing in the slightest. "How's that cat of yours?"

"Fine, Mr. Wilson," Glenda said. "I was wondering about your neighbor across the hall. Have you seen him lately?"

Wilson stared at Glenda for a moment. "You want to put Berber in the hall? Well, hell, that's a stupid idea, but go ahead."

"No, Mr. Wilson," Glenda shouted. "Have you seen your neighbor across the hall?"

Wilson looked across the hall at the apartment door and scratched his head. "You mean the cripple? I don't know. Maybe yesterday, day before. That man who tends to him said he was having surgery. I guess he's not out of the hospital yet."

Glenda stared at Mr. Wilson, obviously a bit surprised. "How long has the man lived there, Mr. Wilson?"

The old man stared at her like she'd lost her mind. "Well, how the hell should I know? You own the building." He slammed the door and they could hear him muttering on the other side of the door.

"How reliable is he?" Jake asked.

Glenda considered this for a moment. "Fairly reliable when it comes to certain things. For instance, if he says a cripple lives in the other apartment, then I'm positive he's seen one there. And since that apartment has been empty since before Mr. Wilson moved in, I'd say it's a good bet that he's seen your guy--assuming it was your guy being held there." She shrugged. "Of course, my cat has been dead for over a year."

Mallory looked over at Jake. "If they had him drugged, a wheelchair would be the easiest way to move him. And in a place like this, no one would even think twice about it."

"True," Jake agreed. "I think we've covered everything we can here. I need to make a dash to New Orleans and get this to the lab. They should be able to put a rush on it. Maybe get me some results by tomorrow."

He turned to Glenda and stuck out his hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I appreciate all your help."

Glenda took his hand and shook it. "It was a pleasure--this time."

Mallory let out a laugh. "When this is all over, Glenda, we're going to sit down and talk over a bottle of scotch--just you, me and Reginald."

Glenda smiled. "Now, that is definitely a plan I can get behind."

The trip to New Orleans took a couple of hours, and it was late before they arrived back at Mallory's cabin. Jake's spirits were running high, and Mallory knew he was hoping for the best concerning his partner. But although she'd been happy with the discovery and the possibility that Mark might still be alive, the drive home had given her too much time to think.

About the voodoo doll.

She knew Jake had other plans once they were behind closed doors, but she couldn't let those plans go forward without telling him. It wouldn't be right.

They pulled up in front of her cabin, and she jumped out of the car and hurried to unlock the door, not wanting to look Jake directly in the eyes, afraid she'd lose control if she made contact with him. She looked back as he climbed out of the car, his dark hair glistening in the moonlight. God, he was good-looking.

And
he'll leave town as soon as he catches his bad guy
.

She watched him walk across the lawn, admiring the way his T-shirt clearly defined the tone of his upper body. She'd even bet he had the legs to match. Thank God he hadn't worn shorts. If he had legs to match those arms there would be no holding her back regardless of the cost later on. Legs were no small matter.

Smiling, he held open the door for her to enter the cabin, then stepped inside behind her and took a seat in the recliner. "Heck of a day," he said.

Mallory nodded, and decided to wait a while before spilling the beans. After all, this was the first good mood he'd been in since she'd met him. "I forgot to ask earlier if any of the marked cards turned up today?"

"No, so obviously Silas was cheating yesterday." He looked over at her, a puzzled expression on his face. "But I don't get why he backed off. If it worked for him before, why didn't he continue today?"

"Do you think he noticed the mark on the cards?"

"Maybe." He shrugged. "I don't know."

He leaned back in the recliner and blew out a breath. "This entire tournament has tossed me more curves than I ever imagined or was prepared to deal with." He gave her a smile. "I appreciate all your help this evening. You've gone above and beyond in more ways than one."

You should tell him about the doll now.

"No problem," she said.

If you tell him about the doll now, it will just be one more curve he's not prepared to deal with.

"Maybe the alarm situation at the hotel made him nervous," she suggested. "Maybe he wants to buy a new deck just to be sure."

Maybe you're a chickenshit and you're not telling
the truth
because you don't want him angry at you
.

"Maybe. But still, it didn't even feel the same as before. Yesterday, he was confident, almost cocky. Today..."

"What?"

"Today, he almost looked puzzled. But that doesn't make any sense. If he was cheating yesterday and not today, then why any confusion at all?"

Mallory rose from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Now was the time. She had to tell him the truth. "You want a beer?" she asked as she opened the refrigerator and stuck her head inside, stalling.

"No," his answer came from directly behind her, and she jumped upright. Before she could turn, he'd wrapped his arms around her shoulders and lifted her hair from the nape of her neck. She could feel his breath, hot and sexy, even before his lips pressed against the sensitive flesh on her neck. "But there is something I do want."

You can't do this without telling him.

"If you keep doing that, you can have anything you want," she murmured.

Traitor.

"Anything?" He ran one hand down over the front of her shirt, lingering over her breast. "That's a mighty bold offer."

She turned slowly around, wrapping her arms around his waist and dropping both hands to squeeze his butt. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a shrinking violet."

You're a lying fool.

But at the moment, it simply didn't matter. At the moment, all that mattered was Jake's hands on her, all over her, and returning the favor. Definitely returning the favor.

Somehow they made it back into the living room. It was only a couple of steps away, but when it felt as if your entire body was tangled with another, those three steps were an eternity. As Jake backed into the roll-out bed, Mallory smiled at him and took advantage of his position and pushed him back. He fell onto the bed, a look of surprise crossing his face.

Mallory laughed and tugged her T-shirt over her head, changing his surprised look to a much, much more intense one. As she shrugged out of her jeans with equal enthusiasm, he gave her a smile. "I knew you didn't wear underwear."

"I do on Sundays," she said, and leaned over to unbutton his jeans. "Are you going to just stare at me? Because I had a lot more activity in mind."

Jake kicked off his shoes and shed his jeans and underwear in a flash, taking a few precious seconds to take care of the contraceptive end of the fun and games.

"I'd be happy to help you with that," Mallory teased as he rolled on the thin skin.

"If you touch me now, it's over," Jake said, and grinned.

Mallory laughed and Jake reached up to pull her on top of him. Mallory fell onto Jake in a tangle of arms and legs and hoped like hell the bed would hold. She had intended to be on top, take charge, but Jake apparently had other ideas.

He pulled her down for a crushing kiss, then flipped her over, pinning her beneath him. His breath was short and ragged, and she could feel his heart pounding against her chest--her own heart pounding in her throat. "I want to kiss every square inch of you," he whispered, "but it's going to have to wait. I hope that's okay."

Okay? It was more than okay--it was required. Her skin didn't need kissing, it was already on fire. There was only one thing that would put out the flames they'd started and that was Jake inside of her. "I want you in me now."