Miranda Vaughn Mystery 01.00 - Chasing the Dollar (9 page)

Jake parked the bike in an alley at a casino parking garage a couple blocks from the Mandarin Hotel. I climbed off and tried to compose myself, pulling off the helmet and reaching up to feel the damage to my hair. My carefully coiffed hair was now suffering the effects of helmet head—smashed flat and matted. I peered into the side-view mirror of the bike and let out a yelp of horror.

"It's not that bad," Jake said, his voice amused.

"
I have to walk back through that lobby like this. How is this not bad?"

"
A little vain, are we?" He cocked an eyebrow.

I glared at him.
"Trying not to attract too much attention."

There was no way the desk clerk wasn
't going to remember me now. I'd tried to keep a low profile, but this just wasn't part of the plan. Not that I had a
great
plan, but I did have a rudimentary scheme that I was determined to follow. Of course, that plan had relied on meeting with Bill Macias. I needed to recalibrate my next move, and I needed to do it alone.

I fluffed my hair back up as big as I could make it and wiped the smudged mascara from under my eyes then started toward the hotel. Jake Barnes was at my side, and I wondered how I could ditch him. He seemed to read my mind, handing me my purse and putting an arm around my shoulder as we entered the hotel
's opulent lobby.

I smiled at the concierge as we passed the desk on the way to the elevator. He didn
't give me a second glance, so I must not look as disheveled as I felt. We took the elevator up to the
ninth floor in silence, alone in the mirrored box, a piano concerto playing softly in the background.

As we walked to my hotel room door, I tried to remember how I had left it. But unlike last time Jake Barnes had barged into my life, this time I wasn
't worried as much about stray undergarments. Had I left my computer out? The papers I'd compiled? The hard drives?

My heart was in my throat as I unlocked the door. Jake opened the door, keeping me from entering the room until he
'd scanned it, then pulled me in and locked it behind me. I also looked around the room and then exhaled a sigh of relief when I saw that my computer and other items were safely out of view.

"
So, what's with the get-up?" he asked, looking me over.

"
What are you talking about?" I tried to sound offended. "And what are you doing here? Isn't this a little out of your jurisdiction?"

God, I hoped it was out of his jurisdiction, but I honestly had no idea how far the FBI could travel to investigate a crime.

Jake strode across the room to look out the window and ignored my question. "Nice place. Have you stayed here before?"

"
No."

I watched him, unsure of what to do. Was he here to investigate me? Arrest me? Did he know what I was doing here? If so, he would surely cuff me, and not in a fun way. But how could he know my plans? He turned and studied me and I shifted in my high heels, uncomfortable in the scrutiny. Then I took a deep breath and moved toward the closet to get a change of clothes from my suitcase.

Pulling some comfortable clothes from my bag, I thought about the flash drive in my bra. My laptop was in the locked safe below my suitcase, but I couldn't very well open it in front of the FBI agent. Not without raising a lot of questions I didn't want to get into.

"
I'm going to go change my clothes," I said. "Try not to violate my Fourth Amendment rights while I'm gone."

I saw a hint of a smile on his face before I raced to the bathroom and slammed the door. I quickly discarded the designer wrap dress, now a wrinkled mess, for a pair of jeans and a red and white striped
T-shirt. I slid the flash drive into my pants pocket, and then washed my face and removed the stupid false eyelashes. When I was done, I looked in the mirror and saw my familiar face—not the Texas beauty queen I had been just a couple hours earlier. The brown hair was still a shock every time I passed a mirror. It made my blue eyes stand out, and I hoped was enough of a change that any Patterson employee who'd briefly met the blonde Miranda Vaughn two years ago wouldn't recognize me when I met with Martin Templeton.

When I emerged, Jake was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed.

"We need to talk," he said.

"
Fine. You first," I said, closing the closet door, as if that would keep him from seeing what was in the safe. "Why are you in Macau?"

He didn
't respond right away, keeping his gaze on the window. The sun was setting and the slanted light beginning to fade. I didn't move to turn on any lights.

"
I'm looking into a missing person."

"
Bill Macias?"

He looked back at me with narrowed eyes and nodded.

"Why is the FBI interested in him? How long has he been missing?"

Jake gave me a tight smile and then shook his head.
"No. That's not how this is going to work. You tell me why you're here."

I frowned and tried to come up with something that I could tell him that wasn
't technically a lie. My mind drew a blank.

"
Are you going to arrest me?" I blurted out.

He studied me again.
"Should I?"

"
No! I mean, what are you investigating? Is it Bill Macias? Or his disappearance? Why is the FBI so far from home?"

A long pause and I shifted, my toes digging into the plush carpet. Jake stared at me, his eyes hard.

"I'm not here on official business," he said.

"
Then why are you here?"

"
If I tell you, you have to come clean with me."

I nodded, reluctantly. There was no way in hell I
'd tell him everything, but I could dole out some truthful information to placate him.

"
Bill Macias has been missing for several weeks. The local officials aren't taking it seriously," he said.

I sat on the settee across from the bed and met his very direct gaze, then reached for a pair of socks to put on.
"So, the U.S. government is investigating?"

He paused, his lips tightening.
"Bill used to be married to my sister."

That wasn
't what I was expecting to hear.

"
Is that why you were taken off my case so early? Because your brother-in-law worked for Patterson Tinker?"

"
I was only brought in for support that day. The lead agent knew I had a tenuous connection, and I was barely involved in the investigation," he said.

"
So you flew halfway around the world to investigate? Are you sure this isn't an official investigation?" I slipped a pair of running shoes on. What they lacked in style, they more than made up for in comfort. And I had done enough walking in high heels for one day.

"
I wouldn't be here if it were at anyone else's request, but my sister asked me to find out what trouble Bill's in. And if this were an official investigation, I'd be here with a partner," Jake said, crossing his arms across his chest. "Now you. What are you doing here? And why were you in Bill's office?"

I bit my lip and tried to think of a good reason for any of that. There wasn
't one. So I went with the simplest explanation.

"
Someone set me up."

The phone on the desk next to me rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. My hand trembled as I picked up the receiver, the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Miss Vaughn?"

The caller ID on the phone showed the call was coming from the concierge, not the front desk. The caller
's voice was distinct and low.

"
Yes," I said.

"
Your guests are on their way up."

"
What guests—?" Before I could finish my question, Jake's hand cut off the call.

"
We're checking out," he said.

I stuffed the clutch purse into a leather messenger bag and followed Jake toward the door, wondering if I
'd be able to return to the hotel room.

"
Wait!"

I dove into the bottom of the closet, fumbled with the combination on the safe and then withdrew my laptop and the hard drives and slid them into the bag. A folder of papers and a notebook full of my handwritten notes went on top. Then Jake Barnes yanked me up off the floor and out the door, and we were running down the hall toward the stairs.

We rounded the corner at the end of the hall, and Jake grabbed me and pulled me against him, both of us up against the wall. He peered around the corner, just as we heard the ding of the elevator. He pulled his head back and cursed under his breath. I reached into my bag, fumbled with my clutch and pulled out a compact and handed it to him.

Jake took it, but gave me an uncertain look. I took it back, opened it and tapped the mirror with my fingernail. He nodded and used the mirror to watch down the hall outside my room. From my position, I couldn
't see anything in the reflection except the gold baroque wallpaper.

The sound of a hard knock on a door startled me. A moment later, I heard the sound of a door opening, followed by muted voices and a door closing. Jake closed the compact, slipped it into my purse and nodded toward the end of the hall, where there was an exit sign over a metal door.

Great, more stairs.

"
They're going to know we saw them go into the room," he said quietly, nodding toward the corner of the ceiling at the black glass bubbles that concealed the security cameras. They'd also know we were taking the stairs. I was just happy that it was a mere nine flights this time. But at the end of the staircase, where would I go?

I stayed close on Jake
's heels in the stairwell—an easier task with sneakers on than in the expensive heels I'd just abandoned in my hotel room. The messenger bag banging at my hip now contained everything I was going to have until I could get back into the room, which was probably being tossed by the Macau police.

At the bottom of the last flight, Jake pushed the door open, peered in both directions, and then pulled me into the hallway. Hand in hand, we walked briskly toward the main entrance, down the wide corridor flanked by doors that opened into business conference centers and well-appointed sitting areas for travelers.

The tall, slim figure of the concierge rounded the corner and made eye contact with me. He hesitated and his face briefly registered shock, then he gave me a quick shake of the head and continued into the first open door. I yanked on Jake's arm, and ducked into a sitting alcove.

"
What?"

"
We can't go that way."

The alcove was empty, but didn
't have any door except the wide entrance to the hall, making us trapped and exposed. I peered around the corner and down the hall in time to see a half-dozen men crossing the hall and walking briskly toward the elevators. I jerked my head back and bit my lip.

"
Who did you see?"

"
Six men, heading to the elevator."

"
Uniforms?"

I shook my head.

"Could they be guests?"

I paused and thought about what I
'd seen. Something about them had a law enforcement vibe. Was it the nondescript suits? The short haircuts? The walk—fast, as if they were trying to hurry but not draw attention to themselves by running. The way they walked in pairs, almost like military formation.

"
Pretty sure they're cops."

"
Chinese?"

"
No, they were white."

"
Probably Patterson's security," he said, moving me so he could look out in the hall. "It's clear. Is there another exit?"

I had walked down to check out the pool this morning. It was hard to believe that was just a matter of hours earlier. It seemed a lifetime ago.

"The pool area has a fence, pretty high. I don't remember an exit. We'd have to cross the lobby to get to the pool anyway," I said. "What about the kitchen? There must be a service entrance."

He nodded.
"Which way?"

"
This way," a soft voice said behind me. I jumped and suppressed a scream, finding the concierge standing three feet from me.

He nodded to a door that blended into wall, and after a brief hesitation, we followed him. He shut the panel behind us, and I realized that it wasn
't a secret entrance, just a way for the hotel to expand a meeting room to accommodate a larger group. The other side of the door was another alcove, but it opened to both the hallway and another conference room.

"
Stay behind me," the man said.

Jake gave me a questioning look, and I shrugged. I had no idea whether to trust him or why he was helping us.