An Unexpected Clue. Elle James
her holding the bag, answering the questions, living the lie, facing raising a child alone.
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she slapped money on the counter in front of a ticket agent.
“Which movie?”
“I don’t care. Surprise me.” What was one more surprise in this crazy night?
The kid behind the counter gave her a strange look and pushed a ticket and her change through the window. “Enjoy the movie, ma’am. Theater number seven.”
Ben had followed her to the ticket window, but Ava didn’t dare look around. If she did, she might fall into his deep dark eyes and cave right there in front of the pimple-faced ticket clerk. She needed time away from him to think. To collect her thoughts and figure out what she should do about her marriage to a man she’d thought she loved. A man she wasn’t sure she could trust anymore. The hurt of the past few weeks was too fresh, too deep to forget in a moment. Not that she wanted to forget.
“Ava, don’t go in. You know I can’t follow you.”
“That’s your problem. You’re so resourceful, you figure it out.” Not that she wanted him to, not yet. She really needed time out of his overwhelming presence. When he didn’t move out of her way, she ducked around him and headed for the ticket taker.
“At least lend me your phone. I have no way of contacting the unit to let them know where I am.”
She hesitated. Should she do anything to make his life easier? If she granted this one request, would she cave altogether and fall back into his arms like the naïve child she’d been? Ava fished in her purse for her cell phone and tossed it to him. She made the mistake of looking at him then.
Ben gave her a sad smile as he deftly caught the cell phone in one hand. He did look tired and thin, his face haggard and long overdue for a shave.
Ava fought the urge to throw herself into his arms. She’d missed him so much. “I want it back.” Was she talking about the cell phone or their relationship? She didn’t even know.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can trust me.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I’m not so sure.” She’d heard her father ask her mother to trust him so many times. All lip service. Ava turned and handed her ticket to the teenager wearing a theater uniform and she made her way to theater seven. Not until she settled in her seat did she remember she hadn’t called Emily. Ava would wait fifteen minutes and make her way back to the lobby and a pay phone.
FATIGUE DRAGGED AT BEN and the smell of popcorn nearly brought him to his knees. With nothing to eat and no money to enter the theater, Ben leaned against the wall inside the lobby, half hidden by a giant pot filled with a ten-foot tall, fake ficus tree, feeling completely exhausted and thoroughly sucker punched. Yet he kept a vigilant eye on the door, waiting for signs of any of Nicky Wayne’s goons. Not that he’d know all of them. They could be as thick as rats in a sewer on the streets of Vegas as far as Ben knew. That man walking in now, with the black polo shirt and black trousers could be one of Nicky’s men.
Ben straightened, automatically reaching for the Sig Sauer in his waistband before he remembered he’d left it in Ava’s car in case the theater had metal detectors at the entrance. It hadn’t, making Ben more certain he should have carried the gun with him.
A trim young woman joined the man, hooking her arm through his elbow and smiling up at him.
Okay, so maybe he was just being paranoid. Ben rolled his head around, attempting to loosen the stiff muscles in his neck.
Damn the woman! If she’d just come with him when he asked, he wouldn’t be standing in the lobby of this theater worrying about every person walking through the door. Ava didn’t know what was good for herself or their baby. And Ben did? He laughed out loud, the sound more a hoarse croak. His wife had managed just fine without him, a sobering thought.
He stared down at the phone, his vision blurring. Now what was Tom’s number? Lack of food made his brain slower than normal as he punched in the number and hit Send.
“Ava?” Tom’s voice came across the speaker.
“No, it’s Ben.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I have a man on the way over to Emily’s with a rental car and some cash.”
“Can you call him and tell him to meet me at…” Ben looked up at the theater and gave Tom the address.
“Hold on just a moment while I pass the information.” The line went completely silent for a minute. During which time, the aroma of popcorn had Ben in a near-faint. He couldn’t give up now. Hunger, plus the added anxiety of Ava being in the theater, in a public place where any one of Nicky Wayne’s people could get to her, had his stomach knotting painfully. He stepped out of the theater lobby into the warm, Las Vegas night air.
“Ben?” Tom’s voice broke through his gloom and doom thoughts.
Ben couldn’t answer right away as he struggled to stand upright.
“You doing okay, buddy?” Tom’s tone sharpened.
“I’m okay.” Ben didn’t feel okay.
“My guy should be pulling up in front of the theater about now. He was just around the corner when you called.”
Ben sagged against the wall. “Thank God.”
“You want me to come to Vegas?” Tom asked.
“No. I have to get Ava out of here. She’s not safe.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ll call and let you know as soon as I get the situation in hand here.” As soon as he got Ava in hand. That would be the day. “By the way, where’s Ortiz? Why did I get you instead of him?”
“Ben, Ortiz is dead.”
“Damn, Tom, what happened?”
“It’s a long story, Ben. When you get here, we need to talk. Maybe you can help us figure that one out.”
Ben’s breath caught in his throat and held, while he tried to wrap his tired brain around that piece of news. He’d reported to Ortiz throughout his undercover mission with Del Gardo. Had Nicky Wayne figured out that Ortiz had sent Ben into the Del Gardo crime organization and killed him for knowing too much? And how much did Tom and Dylan know about his undercover assignment? At this point, did he tell Tom what he’d been doing? No. He needed to be there in person to tell Tom what he’d been working on and why. Anyone could intercept a cell phone call. “Yeah, we need to talk in private.”
“And Ben, Boyd Perkins is dead. We’re pretty sure he’s the one who actually killed Julie.”
Ben’s chest tightened as an image of Julie’s body lying on the hard ground rose in his mind. “Why? Did you find out why he killed her?”
“We think he wanted the medals. Julie had them until she stuffed them in the mail to each of us.”
“I should have been there earlier. I knew she was getting in too deep with the Del Gardo family.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Ben. It won’t bring her back.”
No, it wouldn’t. Julie’s death had been a terrible blow to Ben, Tom and Dylan. They’d gone through the FBI academy together. They had been inseparable. Now one was gone.
“Boyd wanted those medals,” Tom continued. “Someone stole mine and Dylan’s from the criminal lab. Yours is the only one they haven’t managed to steal.”
And Ava had it somewhere, making her a flaming red flag in front of the raging bull of Nicky Wayne’s crime organization. “Nicky knows that Del Gardo’s bank account numbers are inscribed on the backs of all of the medals Julie gave us. Whoever can put them together will have Del Gardo’s fortune.”
“Yeah.