Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“How’d you end up in security anyway?” Sienna asked Gavin in an attempt to move her mind away from obsessive thoughts about children she’d done all she could for in her role and now must entrust to others.
He glanced at her, seeming surprised by her question. They hadn’t spoken much on the ride, which was fine with Sienna as it had allowed her mind to go over what she hoped—believed—were intentional clues, but it hadn’t been strange or awkward, either, Gavin using his phone to answer messages or send texts or whatever he was doing as he stared down at it, punching keys.
She was grateful to him and glad she’d put her pride aside and asked for his assistance. The Anna Kournikova thing . . . she never would have caught that in a million years, and it could have easily flown under the radar of even someone who knew card games well. And she had this feeling it was going to bear fruit.
“When I moved back to Reno, I needed a real job. I spotted the ad at the Emerald, and with my military background, it made sense,” he answered her.
Interesting. She had some idea of how much he’d won in the tournaments he’d played. She’d heard passing numbers anyway. If he’d been wise with his earnings, he was rich. Beyond rich. She doubted he needed a job at all, “real” or otherwise. “I’d think you could retire early,” she said. “Live the life of luxury. Sleeping in until all hours, lunches at posh clubs, afternoons at the spa, and swanky, caviar-laden parties until the break of dawn.”
He groaned. “God, that sounds miserable.”
She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. It did sound miserable. Plus, Gavin had always been a hard worker. She didn’t remember a time when he hadn’t done odd jobs, even as a young kid—small repairs to neighbors’ trailers, pet sitting, dog walking—and then later he’d worked delivering pizzas, anything to bring in a few extra dollars to take the burden off Mirabelle.
“What do you know about swanky, caviar-laden parties anyway?” he asked teasingly.
“Absolutely nothing,” she said. “The crème de la crème of New York City don’t consider public servants part of the elite.” She stretched her neck out and delivered the last part of the sentence in her best hoity-toity voice.
Gavin laughed but then went serious. “You love it, though, don’t you? Being a detective.”
He’d posed it as a statement, not a question, but she nodded as she turned in to the parking lot of the complex where Reva Keeling had lived. Past tense. “I do.”
“Where are you living right now?” he asked. “Did you buy a place?”
“No. I’m just renting. A condo over on Arlington with a questionably shaped cactus out front,” she said on a short laugh. “It’s not bad but definitely nowhere near swanky.”
Gavin chuckled. They got out of Sienna’s car, and he followed her up the steps to the door on the second floor that had caution tape stretched across it. She glanced around as she stuck the key in the lock. It was too bad this apartment faced the side of a building and the unit directly next door was currently unoccupied. A nosy neighbor or ten might have come in handy.
Sienna opened the door, then ducked under the tape and indicated that Gavin do so too. It smelled just as pleasant as she remembered, which was to say it stank to high heaven, and she noticed Gavin drawing back slightly at the stench.
To his credit, he didn’t complain.
“A kid lives here?” he asked, his eyes on the broken action figures lying on the floor.
“He did. He’s with social services now.” She didn’t note his reaction but went for the tennis ball amid the mess.
She’d put a couple of pairs of gloves in her pocket, and she took one out now and donned it before picking up the ball. She shook it, but no sound came from within. It felt like any ordinary tennis ball. But now that she thought about it, what was a tennis ball doing in this apartment? This one looked brand-spanking new, so she doubted Trevor played with it. She knew very little about the victim so far, other than what she’d done for work and how she’d lived. But even so, the woman didn’t strike Sienna as someone who had played tennis in her leisure hours or socialized with those who did. Peering at the ball more closely, she swore she could see a hairline slice that encircled the middle of the ball. Holy shit. If she hadn’t brought the ball to a few inches from her face, she’d have never seen it. She gripped both sides and gently pulled, and the ball came apart with a cracking sound as the glue that had been used broke, one half held in each of her hands. She looked up at Gavin, who had stepped closer and was now staring at the opened ball in her hands.