Chapter Twenty-One
Bailey
When we drove by the entrance gate to the Coronado Trails condominium community, there was a horde of cameras and television vans parked on both sides of the street. The gate was closed, so they couldn’t get in, but I was guessing the other entrance on Sunset was equally as chaotic.
Coronado Trails was where the governor’s Las Vegas residence was located. I’d never been there, but I was sure it was nearly as luxurious as the mansion in Carson City.
“We’re going to have to sneak in somehow.” I glanced around for somewhere to park Jagger’s truck.
The complex was in the middle of residential neighborhoods, and I was sure Thomas was upset that he’d brought such bedlam with him to the area. It was never his intention, I knew in my gut, but of late, he hadn’t been thinking rationally. Dick-blindness was a hell of an affliction.
“How do you think we can sneak in? Is there another entrance?” Jagger appeared skeptical that we’d ever see the inside of the community, but I was a man on a mission.
I pulled down Sagebrush Way, a street just behind the fenced complex of Coronado Trails. There was a For Sale sign halfway down the block, so I parked at the curb in front of the tan stucco house. I was sure there wouldn’t be a scheduled open house on a Thursday evening.
“Maybe call Rupert and ask if there’s some way for them to get you in? I mean, short of trespassing by crawling through someone’s yard and climbing the fence. I don’t need to bail you out again.” The smirk on Jagger’s face was sexy.
“Heaven forbid the governor’s brother get arrested again.” I rolled my eyes at the field day the press would have with that disaster.
“Well, you were smart enough to use an alias, Dickie Normous.”
We both laughed at the stupid name I’d used to create the fake ID I’d used for doing shit that would probably get me on the wrong side of the law. I prayed that any blowback from my actions wouldn’t reach my brother.
My arrest in Vegas brought Jagger and me back to each other, so I’d never regret it. It was more than I ever thought I’d get.
“Hey, Dickie Normous is a creative choice. Let me call the security team.” I grabbed my phone from the console and found Rupert’s number.
He answered on the second ring. “Mr. Gregory. What can I do for you?”
“There are hordes of press at the front gate, and I’m assuming it’s the same at the Sunset gate. I’m supposed to meet with Thomas. Any suggestions for how I get in?” It was difficult to keep sarcasm from my tone.
Rupert chuckled. “Yeah, it was hard as hell to get the governor in here without a cavalcade of press, but sure. We’ll get you in. Tell me where you are, and I’ll send a car.”
I told him the address of the house where we’d parked and hung up. “They’re going to come get us.”
Jagger and I stepped out of the truck, which had my bike wedged in the back of the extended bed, locked it, and waited. Ten minutes later, a Nevada State Patrol cruiser stopped next to us, and we slid into the back seat.
“Sorry about this, Mr. Gregory. We’re still trying to find out how the governor’s residence here in Vegas became public knowledge. We chose this community because it has nothing of note to draw attention to it. Someone had to leak it.”
Jagger perked up. “I’m Jagger Hansen, Bailey’s partner. I was formerly a member of the governor’s security team. Has anyone been investigating the people who would have access to the governor’s private information?”
The driver’s eyes immediately met our reflection in the rearview mirror. He didn’t like Jagger’s question at all.
“Yes, Mr. Hansen. There’s an ongoing investigation, but that’s all I can tell you—as you should know.”
“He’s a former member of the governor’s protection team. He knows what the hell he’s talking about.” I couldn’t hold in my snap response to the pompous asshole driving the sedan.
Jagger’s hand covered mine. “You don’t need to defend me. The officer is right.”
Our car approached the gate, and there were even more people huddled there than when we’d driven by twenty minutes ago. “This is a nightmare,” Jagger said under his breath.
“I don’t know how Thomas copes with it,” I responded.
Being a younger governor had brought additional scrutiny to my brother, but what we were seeing was wildly out of context. I had the feeling there was more to the crowd than just wanting an update on the reason Thomas claimed he’d come to Vegas.
The meeting could have happened without the governor acting as an intermediary. That wasn’t his fucking job.
The driver, who still hadn’t identified himself, honked the horn and tripped the siren a few times to get people moving. The cameras turned toward our car, trying to get shots of those inside. Thankfully, the windows were tinted.
Additional patrol officers showed up to push the press back to let us pass. Once we were inside, the driver took us to the front of one of the buildings. “The governor is expecting you, Mr. Gregory.”
I nodded, and we hopped out, going into the lobby where a uniformed State Patrol officer sat behind the desk. Jagger didn’t glance at him twice.
“Bailey Gregory to see the governor with my partner, Jagger Hansen.”
In my peripheral vision, I noticed the right side of Jagger’s mouth tipped up, so I reached for his hand. He gave it without hesitation. My insides warmed like a teen with their first crush. Not one molecule in my body was embarrassed about our relationship and never would be.
The officer called someone and announced us, hanging up. “Go up to five. Unit five-two-five.”
We thanked the man—who, according to his nametag, was called Gallows—and we took the elevator up. When it stopped on five, a man was coming onto the elevator with a doctor’s bag, stopping in front of us to stare at me before he stepped aside and let us off.
I was sure seeing my face had startled him and made him wonder if I was the governor, but I didn’t care. I pounded on the door until Thomas opened it, wearing a T-shirt and dress pants.
“Come in, Bailey. Hello, Hansen. I must say, this is a surprise.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s a rather casual look for a governor.” I stared at my brother to see if he’d laugh or yell. It was even odds either way.
“Fuck you. I had blood drawn for testing. I took your words to heart, and the more I thought about it, I concluded maybe you were onto something.”
That surprised me. Thomas wasn’t one to concede so easily.
“Governor, is the First Lady here?” Jagger’s voice was soft, nearly a whisper. It hadn’t occurred to me that Lindsey might have flown down.
“No. She’s still in Carson City. Come out, sweetheart. You can tell my brother what you told me.” Thomas closed the front door and locked it, turning toward the hallway.
I sucked in a sharp breath when Boyd Newton appeared. He walked toward us as we stood by the door. What the fuck was my brother thinking?
“Hi, Mr. Gregory. Mr. Hansen.” He stopped next to Thomas, who took his hand.
Jagger said nothing, but I had plenty to say. “What the fuck are you doing here, Newton?”
Thomas led him over to a large sofa, and the two of them sat down, Newton tight against Thomas’s side.
“He’s here because I asked him to come. Danny Bolls is dead, and Boyd found him because Danny missed a night shoot at Glory Hole Studios.
I’m afraid it was the motorcycle club he used to deal drugs for, so I insisted Boyd come here, where we can keep him safe. ”
That was another surprise. It was no wonder the press had set up camp. The governor had lost his fucking mind and was holed up with a known drug dealer who was his lover. The headlines would reach our mother, no doubt.
“Thomas, what the hell? Anyone finds this out, and you’ll flush your career. Is that what you really want to do?” I stepped forward and fell onto a side chair, unable to speak for a moment. Thankfully, Jagger wasn’t as gobsmacked as me.
“Governor, sir, did something happen? What I mean to ask is, have you told anyone about your relationship with Mr. Newton?”
Good place to start. Wish I’d thought of it, but my thoughts were as jumbled as a word-search puzzle.
Thomas’s neck flushed. “Not exactly, but Boyd called the police when he found Bolls’s body. He was held for questioning, but they had nothing to keep him on. He told me about being a snitch for Las Vegas Narcotics Detective Spitzer.
“I spoke to Detective Spitzer earlier today, and he briefed me on the circumstances of Boyd’s undercover work for him. He further explained about the drugs Boyd was dealing, which coincided with what you told me, Bailey, so I decided to get tested for anything in my system that wasn’t normal.
“Last night, before he went to look for Bolls, Boyd resigned his position at Glory Hole Studios when Marcelo Garcia tried to force him to have unprotected sex on camera since Bolls wasn’t there.”
Boyd spoke up. “Marcelo knew Danny wasn’t coming.
He told me that if I didn’t let a guy I’d never worked with before have sex with me without a condom, he would beat me unconscious and let the guy do it without my permission.
I left the shoot immediately because I was certain Marcelo would carry out his threat.
I went to Danny’s apartment to check on him, and that’s when I discovered he was dead. ”
The guy was shaking to the point that I couldn’t guess if he was being honest or if he was a fantastic fucking actor.
God knew I didn’t want to believe Boyd because, since I’d found out about his relationship with Thomas, I believed he’d be my brother’s downfall.
I hated to say it, but it looked as if I might be right.
Thomas’s gaze slid from Boyd to me. “I’ve decided I may not run again after I finish this term. Lindsey’s been acting strangely, so I took it seriously that maybe there was something else going on without my knowledge.”
Jagger chuckled. “Like what, Governor?”
“Like maybe my wife is drugging me before bed with something that allows me to perform sexually, but without any memory of the encounter.” I could see the hurt in Thomas’s eyes at the thought of Lindsey doing something of the sort. In that moment, I hated that I’d been the one to predict it.
I turned to Boyd. “Why couldn’t someone else take your place during the sex part of the video? All they’d need was a blond wig. I saw plenty of candidates the day we were in the offices of Glory Hole.”
Boyd shook his head. “I suggested it, but Marcelo refused. He said none of the others looked enough like me for it to be believable—as if people believe what they see in porn videos as real life.
“Danny had called me three times, but I couldn’t answer because…” Boyd turned to look at Thomas.
“He called me, and we went to pick him up after he quit his job. Boyd called Danny back while we were in the car, and he didn’t answer, so we went to his apartment so he could check on Danny. I stayed in the car.
“Boyd made me promise to leave so I couldn’t be connected to any of it. When Spitzer arrived, Boyd called me, and I spoke to the detective. I believe word got out about us through someone at the police department, which is why I’ve decided not to run again.”
Thomas hung his head because I knew it wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he’d made up his mind, and as much as I knew it would disappoint Mom, I believed he was doing the right thing. Having a wife and a lover at the same time wouldn’t fly well with the voters, even in a swing state like Nevada.
“And what about Lindsey?” I couldn’t help asking. She wasn’t one to back down.
Thomas sighed. “I haven’t told her my suspicions yet. She’s not going to be happy at all, but, Bailey, she’ll see that we couldn’t be happy together, and she’ll do the right thing. My future is with Boyd.
“After he testifies against the Viper Kings, the Víbora, and Marcelo Garcia, we’re going back to Philly, and I’m going to work at the Dawson Foundation for a while. We’ll figure out our future, Boyd and me, one day at a time.”
“Where’s Mom’s money?” After I’d beaten the hell out of Danny Bolls the night I’d gone to dinner with Thomas and Lindsey, I’d returned with the money to the mansion and left it when I took off that night.
“You took it to give it back to Mom. Lindsey told me you took it when you came by the house while I wasn’t there. Don’t joke about that shit, Bailey. I didn’t want the money in the first place.” Thomas’s grin stumped me.
“Took the money? No, Thomas. I didn’t take the money. God, why would I do that?”
Jagger turned to me, his expression grim. “Call your mother and ask her if she got the money back.”
I pulled out my phone and hit the contact. Finally, she answered. “Hello, Bailey, dear. How are you?”
“Fine, Mom. I’m here with Thomas. We have an odd question for you. Did you get your million bucks back?” Time stood still as we waited for her answer.
“Bailey, son, I told you I was helping Thomas build a war chest. He’ll need more than my money, but he can loan that cash to his campaign as he needs it. You’ll get your inheritance when I die. Thomas needed his money now.”
“So, you don’t have that money back.” I stared at my brother, and he closed his eyes.
After a moment, we both knew the truth of the matter. The money was gone, and I’d bet my life, so was Lindsey.