Why?
Why wouldn’t she tell him what the hell happened back then? Where had she gone? What happened to her family? Why didn’t she tell him after everything they promised each other.
He plopped down in the chair by the window and hit Blaze’s name in his contacts. He knew it was late, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman who kept denying who the hell she was.
“What’s up, dude?” Blaze said in way of greeting. “I thought for sure you’d be hitting the poker tables or into your third drink at the bar by now.”
“Yeah, well…” Elvis ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I know it’s late, but I need you to do me another favor. I need you to run the name Delaney Rhodes. She works for Obsidian Analytics, founded the company actually.”
“Sure thing. Does this have anything to do with the lady you wanted me to find earlier?”
“Yeah.They’rethe same woman. I just need to know why she’s denying it. Let me know what you find.”
“Always do,” Blaze assured him, and then hung up.
Elvis slipped into some pajama pants and slid under the covers, leaving a light on for Hawk when he finally returned. Elvis only hoped he’d be asleep by then, even though he doubted it.
He tucked his hands under his head as he stared up at the ceiling. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but memories and fantasies of Julia Moretti filled his dreams. He saw them in high school, saw them getting married, having kids, growing old together. It was the way he had always planned his life going.
“Hey, Elvis, wake up.”
He felt someone shaking him, felt his body rolling back and forth on the bed, but he didn’t want to wake, didn’t want to leave Julia again.
“Come on, man. We need to join the others before this nonsense starts up. Levi’s already called twice.”
Sleep still fogged his brain. “What? What time is it?” He glanced at the curtain, noticing that no light peeked through the part between the two halves. “It’s still dark outside. Why are we starting so damn early?” He plopped back down on the pillow, pulling the covers up to his neck. “Now go away.”
“Nope,” Hawk said as he shoved Elvis one more time. “Gotta go. Levi wants to go over everything for the day before we head to the meeting rooms.”
Elvis growled as Hawk yanked the covers off him. “What’s there to go over? We stand against a wall and stare at a bunch of geeks.”
Hawk chuckled. “Remember, one of those geeks is someone you’re trying to talk to.”
Elvis shot out of bed.
CHAPTER SIX
THE CASINO FELT DIFFERENT in the morning. Quieter. Less desperate. As if it was a new day with a new chance of riches for those who dared to dream and hope. Of course, most would go home with empty pockets, but that was the risk a person took when dreaming in a casino.
Delaney balanced two paper cups of coffee in one hand as she pushed open the door to the temporary security command room with her shoulder, the scent of espresso still clinging to her clothes after breakfast. Roman and she had made quick work of the buffet downstairs—scrambled eggs, fruit that had seen better days, and pastries Roman insisted were “criminally underwhelming.” He’d stolen an extra banana on principle, but she highly doubted he’d eat it.
Now they were back where she felt most comfortable, hiding behind glass and computer screens and layers of data she had to sift through.
She handed Roman his coffee without ceremony and slid into her chair, setting her own cup beside the keyboard. The monitors wrapped around them in a wide arc—camera feeds from every entrance, badge scans of employees coming andgoing, elevator access points. It seemed like a living organism of surveillance, breathing in pixels and timestamps.
She rolled her shoulders once, chasing away the stiffness that came from a combination of sleeping on an unfamiliar mattress and anxiety over Bobby Jenkins.
Okay. Focus.
Her fingers moved automatically as she pulled up the overnight logs, eyes skimming lines of activity. Nothing major jumped out at her. A drunk guest arguing with a dealer at two a.m. A false fire alarm on level three. A VIP who’d forgotten his key card and tried to charm his way past security only to be sent back down to the front desk.
Just normal chaos for a casino and hotel.
Roman leaned back in his chair and took a long sip of coffee. “If I ever design a casino, the buffet will be the first thing I overhaul. That scrambled egg situation felt more like egg soup than anything else. I’ve always hated that part of continental breakfasts in hotels. They make it too liquidy.”
“Is liquidy a word?” Delaney huffed softly. “And I noticed you ate three croissants to make up for it.”
“Stress carbs.”
