Chapter 5
Wyatt barely got around the corner before his temper kicked into high gear. He’d received text messages from Agent Pickering and Cordell, along with alerts from the National Weather Service.
At least the NWS didn’t expect anything from him.
He reviewed the last three messages from Pickering, all of them relating to Evie’s ties to Cordell. The agent needed to back off, but it clearly wasn’t going to happen. Keeping in mind the reward the FBI promised him, he returned to his room.
Pickering was waiting. “I don’t even want to address how you got in here,” he grumbled.
“Good. Address this instead.” She opened a laptop and turned the screen to face him. “Cordell just promised your old pal ten thousand dollars. Hours after a casino guard is found dead.”
“Coincidence.”
Pickering swore. “The sheriff and detectives dismissed her as a suspect,” she said. “They’ll change their minds when we give them this. It’s an obvious payoff.”
“I hate Deadwood,” Wyatt muttered, stalking to the window.
He never should’ve come anywhere close to home.
It was a black hole that sucked at his soul.
The only bright spot had been Evie and now, thanks to him, somehow Cordell and the FBI had fixed on her.
“If anyone had saved her business, she wouldn’t have come in today. ”
“She had to be here to kill the guard and earn that business-saving payout.” Pickering sneered. “If you can’t see that, you might want to rethink your plans as an investigator.”
“Same to you,” he snapped. “Evie is not the killer. Whatever Cordell is up to, it’s about the robbery. The only business he’s interested in is his own.”
Wyatt was running out of time to figure out what Cordell would gain by dragging Evie into this online, or in person. He showed Pickering the texts from Cordell on the burner phone stating the robbery would go down at seven p.m. tonight.
“You have to keep him in the building,” she said.
“The plan is to drive away, to the rendezvous. That’s why you gave me the GPS tracker.”
“Have you looked outside? The conditions will be impassable by then. It’s perfect. You can keep him in the building.”
“How?”
“Use your friend,” Pickering suggested. “She knows where to hide, how to navigate around cameras.”
“That’s a tragedy waiting to happen.” There was no telling what Cordell might do, who he might hurt if he felt cornered.
“The guard’s death makes sense now,” Pickering said. She was practically glowing with excitement. “One less person on staff. He’ll use that gap.”
“A gap interrupted by a casino crawling with a sheriff and detectives. If Cordell did set up that guard, he’s a fool.”
“But he thinks it’s only local law enforcement. He’s overconfident. Wyatt, I’ve studied him and I can tell you he studied the area and the resources. He brought you on because of your experience.”
“You set that up. Made me look like the right man for his crew.” He regretted reaching out to ask that favor of his pal from the Army. They probably should’ve tapped someone like Evie, someone far more familiar with the area than he was after eleven years away. He wasn’t about to say so.
“Use your friend,” Pickering repeated. “We can end this tonight.”
Wyatt shook his head. “She’s busy working a private event. I can’t pester her.”
Pickering scowled. “If you don’t use her, Cordell will. Get ready for that. Better if you can turn her before this goes down.”
The warning just hit him all wrong. “Enough. I’m doing what you asked.” He stalked out of his hotel room and down the hall. He’d hold up his end with the FBI, but it was less about the reward and more about making sure Evie didn’t get caught in the snare intended for Cordell.
Furious, with himself and the situation he’d lost control of, he stalked all the way to the casino’s front door. The depth of the snow stopped him even before the uniformed guard could remind him he’d want a coat before stepping outside.
“Valet service is closed, sir.”
“Looks like a good idea,” Wyatt said. “The doors are operational, right?”
“Of course.” The guard puffed out his chest. “Fire code demands it.”
“Has to be three feet deep already,” Wyatt murmured.
“Yes, sir. And counting. Next update is noon, but I don’t expect to hear that Holly has turned away.”
Wyatt had to agree. “Can I step out on the portico if I promise not to wander away?”
“I can’t actually force you to stay inside, sir. Please use the side door rather than the slider.” He gestured to the single door at the far side of the automatic doors.
“Sure” Wyatt agreed. “No need to turn both of us into popsicles.”
“Much appreciated.”
Outside Wyatt took a deep breath, regretting it instantly. The frigid air was like inhaling icicles. Despite that, the stillness, the utter quiet, was refreshing. No sounds of traffic or exuberant people coming and going. A man could feel alone out here.
And a thief carrying millions of dollars worth of diamonds could get lost and freeze to death in a hurry.
He waited for any sound of plows or salt trucks working the highway.
Now the silence worried him. He knew they wouldn’t run constantly, but he expected them to run.
Maybe the guard inside would know the schedule.
Standing here, his feet and hands chilled through, Wyatt understood why the FBI refused to grant their agents permission to travel in these conditions.
If he had any hope of getting Cordell, his men and the loot into Pickering’s custody, he had to be the driver.
Baker didn’t have enough experience with these roads, he wouldn’t know how to navigate the unseen dangers in these conditions.
Wyatt walked to the edge of the portico that some poor employee was trying to keep clear and swiped his hand through a drift to get a feel for the snow’s texture.
Heavy and wet. Snow like this would weigh down tree limbs and power lines, add in ice when the peak winds set in and they were in for one helluva risky drive out of Deadwood.
“The odds are not in our favor,” he whispered into the falling snow.
He had to convince Cordell to wait. Moving today was suicide.
Wyatt hadn’t survived his mother’s antics, his father’s denial, or an improvised explosive in Afghanistan just to throw his life away here.
Not for the sake of justice or his fledgling business.
And Evie had just opened the door for them to reconnect.
If he died out here, the FBI wouldn’t bother to clear his name.
No amount of reward money was worth the risk that Evie would believe he was on the wrong side of the law with Cordell’s crew.
He walked back toward the door, halting when the Cordell phone buzzed. The two words on the screen left him shell-shocked. One hour.
One hour? No way. The countdown had been adjusted once already. He scrambled to reply and thanks to his chilled hands, he bobbled the phone. Fortunately, the snow caught it before any real damage could be done.
He shoved it inside a pocket, his heart racing. This was a huge mistake.
“You okay, sir?”
“It’s brisk,” he said, trying to pin his reaction on the weather. “Take care, man.” He hurried deeper into the casino, taking momentary refuge at a slot machine. What the hell was Cordell thinking? Juggling the plan like this was dangerous.
Granted, Wyatt wasn’t an expert in the field of jewel theft.
Pretty much the opposite. He’d been working his way through the ranks in as an Army MP when the injury ended his career.
The FBI had given him plenty of background on Tate Cordell, touting him as one of the best when it came to parting stores from their priceless gems. So far, the man wasn’t living up to Wyatt’s idea of an elusive criminal mastermind.
Several replies dashed through Wyatt’s mind, none of which he entered into the phone.
Tate didn’t want advice or opinions. He expected full cooperation from everyone, including Wyatt who was only here to guide them north to the rendezvous point in a ghost town where another driver would be waiting to help them escape.
Except Wyatt’s job was to make sure the FBI was in place well ahead of the rendezvous time so they could gather up Tate, Baker, and Karl along with the driver waiting in the ghost town.
And the FBI was definitely not going out in the teeth of the storm.
Still, he sent the required text update to Pickering.
The rendezvous point, less than ten miles away, was an intermediate level cross-country hike in good weather.
The drive could take over an hour on the twisting two-lane road on a clear day.
In these treacherous conditions there was no way to give an accurate estimate on drive time. If the road was even passable.
They’d find out for sure soon enough. He should probably be happy this entire mess would be over sooner rather than later. Wyatt couldn’t muster enough relief to smother the trepidation.
With precisely forty-five minutes to the robbery, he moved into position, following the plan Cordell had assigned him. He entered the casual dining restaurant, grateful it was still open, and sat down at a table closest to the gaming floor. He ordered a cup of coffee and waited.
Baker and Karl would be close, though Wyatt hadn’t spotted them yet.
His coffee arrived and he thanked the waitress.
The only bright spot was that Evie was out of sight, working in that ballroom and nowhere near the retail area.
She wouldn’t see him commit a crime. He couldn’t help wondering if she’d believe it when the casino security linked him to the robbery.
She’d have to when they showed her the camera feed.
Despite Cordell’s plans, it would be impossible to avoid every camera.
He could already imagine Sheriff Russell interrogating her about Wyatt and their recent conversations in and around the casino. If he wasn’t already double-crossing Cordell, knowing Evie would suffer would be enough to turn him against the thief.