You can hear the charm just roll off his tongue. Without being there, I can only imagine his smile and flirtatious demeanor towards her. A soft chuckle leaves her lips before there’s a moment of silence.
“Give me a moment, I’m going to see if she’s available since she’s the only one who could give permission.”
The sound of her heels clink against, I assume, the hard wood floor. I can only hear distant mumbling as she walks away from him. I wonder where and who Celeste has a meeting with. I would have assumed she would hold them there but maybe she has a separate location for meet-ups. My thoughts wonder back to when Monroe suggested that she’s more than just an owner of this club. Her last name sounded so damn familiar but I never truly asked as she never came forth with the information. The only thing personal I know about her is her best friend's name and that her father had passed away not too long ago.
“Guys?” Beckett whispers. ”This place is so damn nice. It’s clean, smells of vanilla and lavender. You could practically lick the floors. Vegas strip clubs have nothing on this place.”
“I didn’t even know you left the house other than work. How the hell do you even know what Vegas is?” I laugh, taunting him.
“Don’t be me an ass, Solace. Just because I don't go out with lots of you, doesn’t mean I don’t have fun,” he scolds.
Monroe snorts from the seat beside me and I catch herrolling her eyes. She flips through her phone, scrolling through her photos as if she’s looking for something specific. Once she finds what she’s looking for, she holds it up to me. It’s a picture of Beckett with sprayed green hair, suspenders, and a tight speedo. She’s in the photo next to him with a green wig.
“When the hell was that? And please, for Christ’s sake, do not show me him in a speedo ever again. I can never unsee that.” I push the phone away.
“Last Saint Patty's day when you were sicker than a dog. We almost felt bad for leaving you but we had so much fun.” She winks at me before we hear a clearing of a throat.
“I spoke with Celeste, she said you can have access. She’ll have one of her techs send you a link and code. If you would, please write down your email and they’ll get this over to you by Friday morning. Will you be attending the event?”
There’s a pause for a moment as if he’s writing down his email. Is that interest I hear? Is Beckett, of all people, getting hit on? My eyebrows shoot up as I gawk at Monroe.
“Sorry, darlin’, I won’t be inside like the others, but I’ll be watching. Can always throw me a little wave and say hi though. Maybe we can have lunch one of these days?”
“I would love that, Agent Beckett.”
And that's when I shut off the radio. Holy shit, he got hit on and a date all in one encounter.We wait the next ten minutes until my phone rings. I answer by connecting it to the car.
“Did you see that big fucker outside guarding the door? There’s more of them inside. Some guard the exits and others sit at the bar eating. I want whatever juice they’re taking. Our guys aren’t shit compared to them. I swear they can snap me in two by just looking at me,” he spits out with awe.
“Didn’t keep you from getting the girl though. Atta boy!” I cheer him on.
“Y’all are idiots. I got a text from Stevens. They’ll besending a limo to pick us both up and drop us off. We can’t arrive in our own vehicles and we have to look the part. Before we leave, Beckett, I need those devices so we can attach them to our attire before we go. We can’t be seen with you or anywhere near the station for the next couple of days,” Monroe reports back.
“Make sure to bring your laptops home and any files to re-review. We need to make sure we brush up on everything before we head in,” I add on.
Once we have everything set in stone, we head back to the station and return the SUV’s. Ava has our attire ready in a matter of hours which leaves me quite impressed. Monroe is handed a long, tight green dress with matching heels and accessories for her hair and also the mic and camera. She’s also given a really nice brown wig to wear. I watch as they show her how to put it on and arrange it to look realistic. I’m given a nice black-on-black suit and polished shoes. This will pair perfectly with my gold Rolex at home.
Like it or not, the games are about to begin and all I can do is hope that it ends in our favor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ALARIC
“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” - William Shakespeare, As You Like It
The last few days went by quickly. The next thing I know, I’m waking up Friday morning of the event. Celeste has been extremely busy during the day which leads to not being able to see or speak with her much. She did make an effort to call me at night briefly but had to cut the calls short as she had to tend to the little cries I heard in the background. I have no idea where she will be located in the club, but I won’t be able to speak with her anyways.
Shoving the comforter to the side, I make my way into the bathroom, taking care of my needs and turning on the shower to get freshened up. The hot water beats against my skin causing my tense muscles to loosen slightly. The weight of the case and tonight's event has been weighing heavy and the sooner we catch this asshole, the faster I can take a much-needed vacation and spend more time with Celeste.
There’s always going to be other cases with intensestress and with the obsession I have with catching and closing the case, but this one feels different. This one has me haunted as we continue to fail each and every time. We won’t fail tonight, we can’t afford to.
After about twenty minutes of standing under the pouring water, I lather and rinse and shut the knob off. My body protests against the protection of the heat. Pulling the curtain to the side, a puff of steam whirls around the bathroom and I grab a towel to dry off and tie around my waist. Stepping in front of the clouded mirror, I swipe my hand across it and meet blue eyes with dark circles hugging the bottom of them. Tonight, I’ll be a different person, stepping into the role of a millionaire with the name of Elliot Parker. Owner of the Black Hawk Industries, joined with his wife, Christina Parker. I’ll have to school my features when I see Celeste. I’ll have to act like she’s nothing to me and give all my attention to my makeshift wife, looking to spice up our relationship.
Grabbing the shaving cream, I smear it over my beard before bringing my razor to my face and shave off the evidence of who I am. It’s been years since I’ve had a clean, shaven face besides the trimming and maintenance. It’s true when they say that your identity can be determined by a beard and once I clean off my face and add after shave, I don’t recognize the man who stares back at me. I’ll do anything for my job, especially when it comes to keeping everyone safe when there’s a psychopath out there who knows who I am. As stupid as it sounds, it’s like a piece of me is washed away. I find the set of contacts I was given and place them into my eyes covering my blue shade. Brown is my new color for the night, apparently. They said my blue color was too prominent and would be recognized right away, even with a bare face.
After getting dressed, I head into the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee and sit at the island going over the plansfor tonight for the fifteenth time, as if I don’t already have it burned inside my mind. A notification lights up my phone making me to put down my papers and pick it up. It’s a text from Monroe with a linked article, and under it is a message from her.
Monroe: Are you still so sure you know her as you claim to?
