“Actually, it was kind of fun having some female company again.”
Skye felt a twinge of regret. Conn still missed his ex-fiancée. Rebecca was never right for him, which she had finally figured out and Conn had reluctantly accepted. But living by himself in a house that size had to be lonely.
The call ended, and Skye tucked the phone into her purse.
“With Mahler in jail, that’s one problem solved,” Edge said. “Too bad the cops didn’t round up Harley Purcell along with him.”
Skye thought of Purcell and the threat he still posed to the woman he considered his wife. “I hope Molly’s okay.”
“Yeah. I wonder where Purcell went after he left Chamaya? No sign of him among Petrov’s crew so far.”
“From what Molly said, he was Daniel’s man all the way. With Daniel under arrest, he could have gone anywhere.”
“Let’s hope Molly keeps her head down long enough for Harley to lose interest.”
Skye felt a chill. In her work as a private detective, she had known men like Harley Purcell. Brutal and unrelenting, some of them stalked their wives or girlfriends for years, just waiting for the chance to make them pay for whatever imagined crime they had supposedly committed.
She felt Edge’s hands on her shoulders, turning her around. “You can’t save everyone, Skye.”
She looked up at him. “I know.”
“Come on. Let’s get something to eat. Maybe by the end of the day we’ll hear from Petrov.”
Skye just nodded. Petrov was their target now.
Her resolve strengthened. Sooner or later, they were going to bring him down.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
IT WAS LATE IN THE AFTERNOON WHENEDGE GOT THE CALL. THEYwere walking along Las Vegas Boulevard, on their way back to the hotel. Tourists packed the sidewalks, a sea of people flowing from one casino to the next.
Mixed into the crowd were jugglers and mimes, dog walkers, and showgirls in skintight costumes and silver, thigh-high boots. Bright feathered plumes on their headdresses waved in the breeze. There were street people dressed as animated characters and a guy in a spiderman outfit.
Since it was too loud to hear the phone ring, Edge had set it to vibrate. When he felt the buzz, he grabbed Skye’s hand and hauled her around the corner, into an alcove where he could talk. “Logan.”
“Mr. Petrov wants to see you. You and the woman.”
Recognizing the voice, Edge flicked a glance at Skye and mouthed the nameDutch.“All right. How about supper? We can meet him at his place.”
“You don’t give the orders, Logan. Mr. Petrov does.”
“Sorry.”
“Be at the Four Winds at eight p.m.”
“For supper?”
Dutch grunted his agreement, and Edge almost smiled.
“Fine. We’ll be there.” The line went dead, and Edge turned to Skye. “Petrov wants to see us. Dinner at his place, eight p.m.”
“That should make Cross happy.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t leave us much time. Or should I say, it doesn’t leave Agent Cross much time.”
As soon as they got back to the suite, Edge called Cross’s cell. “We’re on for tonight,” Edge said. “Eight p.m. at the restaurant. Will your people be ready?”
“We’ll be ready. Just get him talking. We’ll do the rest.” The call ended, and Edge turned to Skye. Their eyes met. Both of them were hoping it wasn’t some kind of trap.
