Chapter 9
Audra finished her crepe and disposed of her trash on their way out of the café. Sam laid a hand on her back and guided her through the light crowd as they walked toward the Horseshoe to go downstairs to take the monorail. He wanted to get off the Strip, and now that they were together and looked like a couple, she’d be less conspicuous than a woman alone.
They boarded the train and rode it one stop to the MGM Grand. From there, they snagged a taxi for the short trip to a hotel adjacent to the airport. Normally, he’d walk, but Audra was limping. The trek to the train station had been enough.
“What’s your plan?” Audra asked as they exited the cab and walked toward the hotel’s front doors.
“We’re going to check in as a newly married couple. Put that Claddagh ring you always wear on your other hand.” He glanced down at her hands. Audra tugged the ring off and put it on her left ring finger.
“Once we get into a room, I’m calling my friends. I know you don’t want the details out, but one, I need to tell them where I am. And two, I think they can help.”
She frowned. He could see that she wanted to ask more questions, but her curiosity would have to wait until they were alone.
He smiled at the young man working the front desk while Audra hung back. She looked a little ragged from her ordeal, and they didn’t want to rouse the clerk’s suspicions. “Hello. We need a room for the night.”
“Of course. One bed or two?” the young man asked.
“One. We just got married.” If Audra didn’t want to share a bed, he’d sleep in the chair, but they needed to keep up appearances. Newly married people didn’t typically ask for a room with two beds.
The man smiled. “Congratulations.” He turned to the computer screen. “Let’s see what we’ve got here.” His fingers fluttered over the keyboard. “I’m afraid all I have right now is a double queen suite with a balcony.”
“That’s fine. Do you have anything on the first floor?” He wanted to be able to make a quick exit if need be.
The clerk’s hands moved over the keys again. “I do.”
“Great. We’ll take it.”
“Okay. I just need your license and a credit card.”
Sam handed both over. The clerk entered his information and ran his card, then passed over a paper for Sam to sign. He scrawled his name on the page, acknowledging the charges, and handed it back.
“You’re in room one fifteen. Breakfast is served in our dining area from six-thirty until ten. Enjoy your stay, and congratulations, again.” The young man passed a small folder with two key cards across the counter.
“Thank you.” Sam took the keys, then Audra’s hand, and headed down the hall.
Their room was just off the main lobby. He let them in with a soft snick of the lock, and flipped the light switch, then threw the bolts once they were inside. A yellow glow illuminated the entryway, and the lamp between the beds cast dull shadows on the beige carpet.
“Okay, explain how your friends can help. I know they’re all former military, like you, but what can they do?”
“Actually, they’re not all former military.” He set his bag down on the red, gold, and copper bedspread of the bed closest to the door. “We have a former CIA analyst as part of the group. Asher Horn. He’s a whiz at finding information. If it’s online, he can find it. Anywhere. And my friend, Ford, has contacts all over the world. So do the others. And me, for that matter. We can help.”
She pursed her lips and studied him. “I don’t know, Sam. I could lose my job. I could get charged with disseminating classified information if I read them in on this. I still could because I told you.”
Sam wrapped his hands around her upper arms and peered into her face. “I won’t let that happen.”
She scoffed and tipped her nose up. “How do you plan to prevent it?”
A crooked smile tipped his mouth. “Like I said, we have contacts all over the world. I think the most they’ll do to you is give you an official reprimand.”
“That’s enough. I’ll get stuck behind a desk.”
“Would that be so bad after the last two years?”
Her brows knit together. She shrugged off his hands and fluttered hers. “Don’t be logical on me. It’s not helpful.”
He barked a short laugh. “What?”
She sighed and ran her hands over her face. “Sorry. I just feel very—out of sorts. Part of it is not knowing who I can trust and part of it is I feel like my brain is scrambled.”
“That’s your concussion.” He stepped closer and reached out to push a lock of her hair back. His fingers traced the soft skin of her cheek. A pang of longing shot through him. He’d missed her. It had been ten years, but everything they’d had, everything they’d experienced, all rushed back. “Do you want to rest? I can make my phone calls outside so you can sleep.”
“No. I’ll sleep better knowing we have a solid plan in place. And you might have questions for me.”
“Does that mean I can call my friends and get them up to speed?”
She rolled her lips in and sucked in a deep breath, then nodded. “Yes. I hope I don’t regret it, but I don’t know what else to do. Something’s not right.”
Sam reached for her hand and squeezed it briefly, then let go and took his phone from his pocket.
Finding Dean’s name in his contacts, he called him.
“Where are you?” Dean didn’t even bother with a greeting.
Sam winced. He should have called sooner.
“Martina said you sent her a message in the middle of the night asking her to cover for you, then you never answered my texts or calls,” his friend continued.
“I’m in Vegas.”
A short pause came over the line. “Why?”
“It’s a bit of a long story. Can you get the others rounded up and call me back?”
Dean groaned. “We’re going to get shot at again, aren’t we?”
Sam chuckled. “I hope not. Round everyone up and call me back.”
“Fine.” Dean hung up without saying goodbye.
Audra huffed as he lowered the phone. “That’s it?”
“For now. It’s easier to explain it all at once.”
She grunted. “True, I guess. Does that mean we have time to find me some more clothes? As comfortable as my I Love Vegas sweats are, I’d rather not look like a tourist who partied too hard and was forced to buy the first available clothing she could find because she vomited all over herself.”
Sam barked a laugh. “I see your concussion hasn’t dulled your sense of humor.”
“It’s enhanced my sarcasm. I’m not in the mood for anyone’s bullshit.”
“Noted. Why don’t you take a—” He broke off, the word getting stuck in his brain. An image of her showering had crossed the wires and held up the word he wanted to say. He clenched his teeth and rolled his hand. “Go bathe. I’ll get you some clothes.”
A tiny frown formed between her brows. Sam could see the question in her eyes, but she didn’t voice it. He was glad. He didn’t feel like explaining his brain injury. He preferred she remember him the way he used to be, and not as a man who occasionally struggled to vocalize his thoughts. Eventually, he knew she’d ask. But he was glad it wasn’t now.
Stepping around her, he headed for the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t you want to know what size I wear?”
“I can… guess.” The words “figure it out” stuck, so he went with the simpler term.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” He turned the door handle and left, eager to escape before his mind locked up on him again.