Chapter 20
BASTIAN
Iunlocked the penthouse door and strode inside. The security issue had taken longer than I’d hoped. We’d had to deal with a group of young cheaters hoping to win big at my casino’s expense.
The cheaters all seemed to be getting younger, and trying out fancier, newer technology.
I’d helped to scare the shit out of them, and then, Theo had handed them over to the police. I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be trying to steal from any casinos anytime soon.
“Lark?” My voice echoed in the living room.
She’d seemed off at Styx with Georgie and Nash. Not herself.
“Lark?” My jaw clenched. The laptop on the coffee table was dark, and her notes were strewn around. There was no Lark.
I already knew, but I strode toward the bedroom looking for her.
All I found was the faint scent of a thunderstorm.
“Fuck!”
I swiveled and headed for the elevator. I yanked my phone out.
“Boss.” Theo’s deep, raspy voice answered. “Our cheaters are now guests of LVMPD.”
“It’s not that. I need you to activate that new tracker for me. The one I had put in the bracelet clasp.” Right now, I was damn glad I’d given her the bracelet. She was not getting away from me.
“Roger that.” I could hear the tap of the keyboard. “You lost your girl?”
I grunted and the elevator whizzed downward. “How do you know about her?”
“Nash mentioned her. Said she’s tiny, but dangerous. He didn’t seem thrilled.”
“Just find her.”
“Shit, she’s in the Blade,” Theo said.
I mentally cursed. The Blade was West Tropicana Avenue, specifically the stretch between I-15 and Decatur Boulevard. It was a high prostitution area, among other crimes.
“Bastian, that’s a bad end of town.”
“She can handle herself.” But worry nipped at me. I wasn’t worried about the area. I was worried about what she was up to.
I was worried that Lark was actively looking for trouble.
“Call me if she moves.”
The elevator opened into my private underground garage. I walked down the two rows of cars, passing the Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and McLarens.
My black Ducati motorcycle gleamed under the lights.
I yanked on a black helmet, grabbed a second helmet off the rack and stowed it, then I threw a leg over the bike. I gunned the engine. The roar was loud in the enclosed space.
I pulled out. A moment later, I was on Las Vegas Boulevard, weaving through the traffic.
I’d find her, then I’d turn her over my knee and spank her.
Several minutes later, I pulled onto West Tropicana. It was an uninspired strip of road, flanked by budget hotels, warehouses, and businesses that were closed at this time of night. Sex workers in short skirts and skimpy tops wandered the sidewalks.
I pulled into a shadowed corner of a near-empty parking lot in front of an abandoned building and cut the engine. My phone rang.
“I’m right behind you.” It was Cole’s voice.
“Theo called you?”
“He did. Thought you might need backup.”
A second later, I heard the low throb of a Harley. The bike pulled up beside me. Cole, wearing a black leather jacket, lifted a hand.
I lifted my chin. “Lark ran off. I’m not sure what she’s doing here. She might have a lead on the killer we’re tracking.”
“And she’s tracking it down alone.”
“Not for long,” I clipped.
“There’s a long story.”
Cole swung off his bike. “Let’s find your girl.”
“Thanks, Cole.”
I headed off down the sidewalk while Cole headed in the other direction. I should’ve changed. Cole blended in with his black leather, my suit stood out like a damn neon light.
I didn’t give a fuck.
Where are you, little bird?
I catalogued several sex workers, watching them shiver in the cold. A few were huddled in faux fur coats of various colors. They all eyed me and my suit hopefully.
As I watched, a sedan pulled over, and one tall redhead sauntered closer, and chatted through the open window. A minute later, she got inside.
“Hey there, handsome,” a raspy voice said. “You lost? That pricey suit will get you mugged around here.”
I turned. The woman looked like she was in her forties, but she was probably younger. Life had worn her down. A blue spandex dress hugged her curvy body and her curls were dyed blonde, although her dark roots had grown out a few inches.
“I’m not an easy target,” I told her.
She eyed me. These women could assess who was dangerous pretty quickly. She cocked a hip. “Then are you looking for a good time?”
I shook my head. “I’m looking for a specific woman. She’s about five feet tall, fit, she usually has black hair, but she could be wearing a wig.”
“Darlin’, girls get lost in the Blade all the time. They don’t usually want to be found.”
“She’s not working. She’ll be asking questions.”
A flash of something crossed the woman’s face. She sniffed. “Sorry. Haven’t seen anyone who looks like that.”
I took a step closer. “I think you have.”
“No—”
I grabbed the woman’s arm. “She’s mine. She could be in danger. The killing kind of danger.”
The woman watched me steadily, and I could see the wheels turning in her head.
“Please?”
“We call her Wren. Usually, when she comes around here, she wears a blue wig. She gives us food and money, and asks questions. She was here earlier. No wig this time.” The woman glanced around. “I think Sondra called her. Had info to share. She pays us for good info.”
“Where did she go?”
“There’s a guy. He’s been freaking us all out. He’s creepy as hell. He roughed up Isabel the other day, and tonight, a new girl, Tonya, went with him. Wren went looking for them. He gives me really bad vibes.”
I cursed. Lark must be trying to find the Red Ribbon Killer and thought this was a lead. I pulled out my phone. “Theo? Have you got Lark on screen?”
“She’s in your vicinity. She’s on the move. West of your current location, two blocks.”
“Hey, rich dude,” the woman in blue said. “The asshole Wren is after was driving a beat-up old Cadillac. Brown like mud.”
I nodded my thanks at the woman and handed her a wad of cash. “Thanks.”
Her eyes popped wide. “No, thank you.” The bills disappeared into her tiny bag. “You say you’re Wren’s man?”
“Yes, I am.” That felt right. I was Lark’s man.
“Then go find her.”