Colby Control

Debra Webb

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Copyright

About the Author

DEBRA WEBB was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it badly enough. She began writing at the age of nine. Eventually, she met and married the man of her dreams, and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a daycare center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office.

By 1985 they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again. In 1998, her dream of writing for Mills & Boon came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at PO BOX 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345, USA or visit her website at www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.

This book is dedicated to my lovely niece, Tanya. Her many visits to Las Vegas inspired me to set this story in that unique city. Tanya is very much like my character Nora Friedman—she is determined to succeed no matter the trials that befall her.

Chapter One
Inside the Colby Agency Monday, 9:05 a.m.

Ted Tallant waited in Victoria Colby-Camp’s office as requested. This morning’s briefing had been a little wild and a lot freaky. The merger talks between the agency and the Equalizers had been going on for months. Contracts and benefits and legal technicalities had been resolved. A number of orientation and training sessions had been conducted between those in charge here at the Colby Agency and the staff members of the former Equalizers.

The deal was done and all involved would have to get used to the changes. Today the four from the Equalizers shop who had opted to make the transition had been officially introduced as new agency staff members. Ben Steele, Leland Rockford, Evonne Cassidy and the infamous Nora Friedman.

Irritation tightened Ted’s jaw even as her name filtered through his brain. Nora. The woman was a looker; he couldn’t deny that. Tall and willowy, with sleek black hair and dark, dark eyes. Her presence in a room set him on edge.

She specialized in deception.

Ted rolled his eyes. Yeah. Deception. The whole idea rankled the hell out of him. But it was an Equalizer thing. Jim Colby, Victoria’s son, had started the Equalizers five years ago, and he’d made it a point to hire the very best at going around and through the law.

Five months had passed since Victoria and her son had made the decision to move forward with the merger. Tension had been running high since. Nothing about the plan had been easy. Jim had acquiesced to Victoria’s operating rules and code of conduct for the most part, but keeping the members of his former staff in line had proven a pain in the butt.

Not that a single one of his former Equalizer team was anything other than highly skilled and admittedly brilliant. But they had their way of doing things and change wasn’t coming easy.

What ticked Ted off the most about Nora was the fact that she not only understood she was brilliant, but she also reveled in the idea.

Ted was just a regular guy. Born and raised in the heartland of Idaho. He’d spent a few years working as a skip tracer back home. After earning a criminal justice degree at Boise State University, he’d quickly learned that law enforcement—at least as a cop—wasn’t for him. Too much red tape, too often the victims were the victims on both sides of the law. So he’d committed to freelancing for a couple of P.I. firms.

Six years of experience had landed him an opportunity with the Colby Agency—the very best in the business of private investigations.

And Nora Friedman wasn’t going to make him miserable no matter if she questioned or challenged every word he said. She had, apparently, selected him to be her verbal punching bag. Maybe she was still frustrated with the change in rules dictated by the merger. After all, following rules, period, didn’t appear to be her preferred professional model.

The door behind him opened and Ted kicked Nora Friedman right out of his head. He stood and turned to greet his boss as she strode into the room. “Morning, Victoria.”

“Good morning, Ted.” She beamed a smile that only Victoria Colby-Camp could produce. The woman was amazing. Nothing stopped her. And the bad guys tried. Oh, did they try. January’s siege was a prime example of just how unstoppable the lady had proved time and time again. One of the aspects of working at this agency that pleased Ted the most was a boss who never expected anything out of her investigators she wasn’t prepared to do herself.

When she’d rounded her desk, her gaze locked with his. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Ted.” Victoria gestured to the chair he’d vacated. “Let’s sit. This may take some time.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ted dropped back into his seat while Victoria settled into the big, lush leather one behind her desk. Sounded like he had a new assignment. He would be only too happy to get away from the office while the dust settled on the merger. Nora Know-It-All Friedman was making him crazy.

The boss took a moment to organize what appeared to be notes she’d made. When she turned her attention back to him, he didn’t miss the worry in her eyes. “I had a very disturbing call this morning, immediately following the weekly briefing.”

Ted wasn’t really surprised to hear that. Since the siege back in January and the subsequent steps the agency had been forced to take, there had been a series of disturbing events. The powers that be at the Colby Agency, Victoria, Jim, Ian Michaels and Simon Ruhl, had been working overtime to sort out legal details and to smooth ruffled feathers. With the help of Victoria’s husband, Lucas Camp, most of the trouble, legally speaking, was behind them at this point. But there remained a considerable ways to go in getting all phases of the numerous changes reconciled.

Thankfully the media frenzy had calmed. The trials against former district attorney Timothy Gordon and crime lord Reginald Clark were under way. Leonard Thorp, the stepfather of one of Clark’s victims, was extremely ill and very near death. He’d already outlived the few months he’d been given when diagnosed with terminal cancer. His devoted wife, who kept the agency posted on his condition, claimed the oncologist treating her husband insisted the man simply didn’t want to die. Most of the folks here at the Colby Agency figured he had no intention of dying until he saw that Reginald Clark was sentenced to a proper punishment for his vicious crimes.

Thorp, due to his illness, had been sentenced to house arrest for orchestrating the siege against the Colby Agency. No one, including the new Cook County D.A., wanted to see the man go to prison when he would certainly be dead before his three attorneys finished their stall tactics. An acceptable plea bargain had settled the issue. Particularly since Thorp’s hired gun, Pederson, had been the one behind the two fatalities. Pederson had taken it upon himself to cross that line. For all his extreme measures, Thorp hadn’t actually wanted anyone to die—except Reginald Clark.

Then the merger between the Equalizers and the Colby Agency had commenced. To Ted’s way of thinking, the presence of Nora and her colleagues was almost another siege in and of itself. But Ted kept his mouth shut and hoped it would all work out … eventually.

“A call?” Ted repeated when Victoria remained seemingly lost in thought.

She gave her head a visible shake. “I’m sorry. I …” Victoria drew in a deep breath. “I was so surprised when I received the call. I’m still a little stunned.”

After all Victoria had been through the past year, Ted had to wonder what could shock her as much as this call clearly had.

“I have a distant cousin—by marriage—in Los Angeles.” She paused, her expression reflecting the faraway path her thoughts had taken. “I haven’t heard from her in years … decades actually.”

“There’s a problem,” said Ted, guessing. Whatever the situation, Victoria was genuinely shaken.

“Yes.” She nodded, the movement hesitant, thoughtful. “She’s only thirty-eight. My mother’s younger sister was her stepmother. But my entire family died out years ago. Heather …” Victoria looked directly at Ted. “Her name is Heather. She never clicked with her stepmother, my aunt. In fact, it’s safe to say Heather wanted nothing to do with any of our family … until now.”

That was relatives for you. Win the lottery or let someone you haven’t heard from in decades have a problem and suddenly you’re family again.

“Her husband is a cosmetic surgeon and she believes he is cheating on her.”

Ted wanted to feel sorry for the woman but the only person he really felt sorry for at the moment was Victoria. Her pained expression told just how deeply the situation had affected her. “Does she have reason to believe he’s done this before?”

Victoria considered the question a moment. “Heather is certain this is nothing new. She says she can prove a pattern over the past several years. But this time is different.” Again Victoria’s gaze met his. And this time the pain had turned to worry. “Heather believes her husband wants her out of the way … permanently.”

“And California is a community property state,” Ted observed. He got the whole picture now. A divorce would mean the husband would have to share. A sudden, accidental death would leave him everything—including any death benefits from life insurance policies.

“Her brakes went out in her car,” Victoria went on. “Her one-hundred-ten-thousand-dollar car. The crash was minor only because of her quick thinking and sheer luck. She’s terrified to leave the house now.”

“Did a certified mechanic find evidence of foul play?” Brakes occasionally went out … even on the high-end vehicles. Usually a faulty part or system. It wasn’t unheard-of and happened to the best of automobiles. But he didn’t have to tell his boss that.

Victoria shrugged. “Her husband insisted on seeing to the repairs, so Heather can’t say for an absolute certainty.”

“Could be paranoia,” Ted suggested simply because it was a plausible possibility. He didn’t know this Heather but he did know Victoria. If she thought the situation merited looking into, there had to be more than the brake failure incident.

“She awakened to a gas leak just last week. Her husband had already left for work.” Victoria sent Ted a pointed look. “I suppose it’s possible their five-star gas range had some defective part, as well.”

He agreed. A second accident in such a short time frame was a little too neat for a mere coincidence. “I see your point.”

“Her husband also has a practice in Vegas,” Victoria explained. “He spends one week each month there. The woman he is allegedly seeing on the side lives there. She’s a manager at one of the casinos. According to Heather, her husband is in Vegas this week. She wants to find out what he and his mistress are planning, particularly if it involves her continued well-being—or lack thereof.”

“What about protection for your cousin?” Ted didn’t have to point out to Victoria that being out of town when his wife got murdered during a robbery attempt at the house was a useful alibi. Ted felt confident she had already considered that scenario.

“I’m sending Leland Rockford to L.A. to keep an eye on Heather,” she said, confirming his speculation, “but I’d very much like you to look into the husband’s activities. Your background in finding people and information will be immensely useful.”

Ted had never been to Vegas. It would be hotter than blazes this time of year, but the assignment sounded intriguing personally as well as professionally. This was his specialty. “Absolutely. I can leave immediately.”

“Good. Mildred is working on travel arrangements now.” Victoria cleared her throat, glanced around her desktop, avoiding eye contact. “As you know, we’re working to integrate Jim’s team with ours, and the best way to do that is to share assignments. Let those folks see how we do things firsthand.”

Ted had known that was coming. Victoria didn’t need to be worried about his cooperation. “Not a problem. I’ll work in conjunction with Rocky. Keep him up to speed so that the wife knows what’s going on at all times.” Leland Rockford, Rocky, was a cool guy. A team player. Ted was immensely grateful that he would be working with Rocky and not that uptight, snobby.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Victoria replied, cutting into his assessment. “Jim is briefing Nora now. I’m certain the two of you will make a great team.”

“Nora?” He couldn’t have heard that right. “I thought you were talking about Rocky.” About forty pounds of concrete settled in Ted’s gut.

“I’m aware,” said Victoria, broaching the subject gingerly, “that you and Nora don’t see eye to eye on many things. But Nora has experience in the Vegas casino world. She knows her way around that setting. Her knowledge will be an invaluable asset.”

Ted felt sick. “As long as she is aware that I’m lead in this investigation,” he said, hoping like hell that would be the case.

“Of course,” Victoria assured him. “You will be lead. No question. Nora’s job is to watch and learn. She’s a skilled investigator, but it’s very important that Jim’s staff becomes acquainted with the way we do things here at the Colby Agency. My goal is to see that each of the Equalizers who opted to come on board works with each member of the agency. An acquaintance rotation of sorts. I feel that strategy will create a deeper sense of cohesion more quickly.”

He couldn’t fault her approach. “I’m certain her knowledge of the casino world will be useful.” The words were bitter in his mouth. Ted wanted to bite off his tongue at the reality of what his agreement meant.

He would be spending every minute of every hour for the next few days in a city he’d never visited with Nora the know-it-all, who evidently knew her way around the place. Perfect.

“I’m counting on you, Ted,” Victoria said, again interrupting his troubling tirade. “This merger is of the utmost importance to me. I want every aspect of the transition to go as smoothly as possible.”

What could he say? Ted loved working at the Colby Agency. He respected and admired Victoria. He couldn’t possibly let her down.

“Yes, ma’am,” he promised. “You can definitely count on me. I’ll get the job done and show Nora the ropes.”

If he didn’t kill her first.

Chapter Two

“You are kidding?” This couldn’t be possible. Nora shuddered at the idea of working with Tallant. No way, no how. His mere presence in a room grated on her nerves like no one else she’d ever met.

He made her … uneasy.

“This is the way we’ll be doing things for a while,” Jim Colby reminded her. “Until the transition is complete, we’ll be working in pairs. Tallant will be lead. You’ll watch and learn.”

“Learn what?” Jim had to be out of his mind. There was no way on earth she could learn one thing from good old boy Ted Tallant. No way!

He was … He was too … I’m in charge.

“The Colby Agency has a certain way of doing things. There’s more finesse involved. As a Colby investigator you will be playing by the rules.” Jim narrowed his gaze for emphasis. “All the rules.”

This was ludicrous! “I don’t need anyone to teach me that,” she snapped. “The guidelines for conducting an investigation have been laid out over and over. Does Victoria think we’re stupid?”

Nora instantly regretted the remark. The shadow that passed over Jim’s face warned that his patience was thinning. He’d almost lost his mother. He was going above and beyond to ensure he pleased her. Which ultimately made life damned frustrating for Nora and her comrades, the other former Equalizers. Former being the operative word here.

“Do we have a problem, Nora?” Jim’s face cleared instantly, his expression wholly unreadable now. “Four months ago you were given an option of coming on board with the Colby Agency or six weeks’ severance pay going out the door. If you’ve changed your mind, now’s the time to speak up.”

Her bad choice of words had left a seriously bad taste. She’d stuck her foot, stiletto included, directly into her mouth this time. “No. I …” She heaved a disgusted breath. “We don’t have a problem. I just don’t like Ted, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to like him,” Jim offered. “You just have to follow his orders.”

Well, that made all the difference in the world. “I can do whatever I have to do.” Working for Jim had given her the credibility she’d been looking for her whole adult life. Joining the Colby Agency crew would add prestige to her position. She wasn’t a fool. This was a priceless opportunity.

More than that … it offered her a way to continue helping those who needed it most. Generally when people came to a P.I. group, they were desperate because they hadn’t been able to find that help with the police. Maybe here the clientele would be a little less desperate and a lot more inclined to want discretion, but according to Jim, there were still plenty who were truly desperate for the right and fair kind of help Nora liked to provide. What more could she ask for?

She wasn’t letting a smart aleck like Ted Tallant screw this opportunity up for her. Working with him this one time wouldn’t be the end of the world. All she had to do was look at it for what it was—a bad assignment in an otherwise good job.

“I’m good to go.” She produced the expected smile. “You know I’ll do whatever I have to in order to facilitate the merger.”

“Good.” Jim passed a file across his desk. “You’ll find the details about the case there. Victoria is briefing Ted. It’s imperative that the two of you get on location as quickly as possible. We have reason to believe time is not on our client’s side. When we’re done here, check with Mildred about the travel arrangements.”

Nora couldn’t wait. Not. She scanned the dossier on a Dr. Brent Vandiver, cosmetic surgeon. Forty-four. Judging by the photos, he’d been enjoying a number of the procedures he got the big bucks for performing on his patients. Store-bought tan and personal-trainer physique, all nicely packaged in a couture suit. Apparently the man had a penchant for infidelity.

Clearly this was a case that didn’t include desperation in a real sense. Yeah.

“This isn’t the first extramarital affair,” Jim went on as she scanned the pages and photos, “but the wife feels that this time Vandiver wants his freedom with no strings attached.”

Nora’s gaze met Jim’s. “He wants her out of the way, as in dead and gone.”

Jim nodded. “She suspects so. I’m sending Rocky to L.A. to check out the wife. See if we’re getting the whole story.”

“I could do that and let Rocky work with Ted.” Why the hell hadn’t Jim laid it out that way in the first place? He had to know she couldn’t stand Tallant. Why not make this easier for everyone? She’d gone to high school in L.A. Still had a mother there somewhere.

Probably still hawking her body downtown after business hours.

Jim’s gaze narrowed once more. “Did you miss the part in the dossier that the mistress is a manager at a Vegas casino and hotel? Or that the husband is in Vegas as we speak?”

Damn. “I gotcha.” Five years ago she’d completed an assignment in Vegas for her previous employer. Nora had spent eight weeks under deep cover there. She’d made it her business to know the ins and outs of the city … the life. Of course she was the logical candidate for the assignment.

Just her luck.

“We’re square, right?” Jim stared at her with an unyielding gaze that warned he didn’t want to hear otherwise. “This goes down just the way it’s supposed to. No personal feelings getting in the way.”

“Sure.” She closed the file. Lifted her chin in defiance of the protests screaming in her head. “I’m a professional. Just because I’m better than Tallant doesn’t mean I can’t step back and learn—” she lifted one shoulder in a shrug “—something from him.”

“You might just learn something, all right,” Jim tossed back, his tone pointed.

Nora frowned at what was clearly a not-so-subtle reprimand. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“When you stop learning,” Jim explained, “that’s when you no longer have a place in this business. No exceptions.”

Enough said. “I understand.” She stood. “Anything else?”

Jim moved his head from side to side. “Just remember, none of this changes what I expect from you, Nora. You’re damned good. Don’t let me down.”

Nora’s smile was real this time. “Now, that’s one guarantee I can make without the first reservation. I will get the job done.” For an Equalizer, failure was not an option. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you down.”

“Keep me posted,” Jim said as he turned his attention to the mountain of files on his desk.

Jim Colby was in the process of reviewing every case the Colby Agency had worked for the past five years. His team, including Nora, was doing the same. The decision had been made, and he would do whatever it took to fit in … to make this merger work.

Nora would do the same.

All she had to do was get through this one assignment.

She exited his office and headed for Mildred Ballard’s desk at the other end of the corridor. Her office was actually the small waiting area outside Victoria’s office. Jim had taken an office at the opposite end of the corridor from his mother.

Space had been made for everyone.

As long as Nora had her space, she could deal with anything temporarily.

As she turned into Mildred’s area, she came face-to-face with Tallant.

A truckload of frustration laced with a hint of disdain instantly drowned out her determination to play nice.

Maybe she was wrong … but she highly doubted an entire city block—or two—would be enough space between her and this guy.

The idea of spending the next few days with him, forced to submit to his lead … Well, maybe they would both survive.

One thing was certain, Nora would.

She had been equalizing situations long before she’d hired on with Jim Colby.

Tallant was the one who needed to be worried.

Chapter Three
Palomino Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas 4:00 p.m.

At least it wasn’t the Copacabana.

Nora kicked aside the nasty memories that accompanied the thought. Five years was a long time. She hadn’t heard a peep from the sick bastard in more than four of those years. Chances were she had nothing to worry about on that old score.

Still … she was back in Vegas.

There was always the possibility.

“That’s her.”

Nora blinked and followed Tallant’s gaze. A tall, lithe blonde floated across the gaming floor, then paused to chat with a guest.

“Camille Soto,” Tallant went on. “Twenty-eight. MBA from UCLA. She—”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Nora, interrupting his narrative. “I read her dossier.”

Tallant shot her a look.

Yeah, yeah. He was in charge. She was supposed to listen. Even if she already knew exactly what he was going to say.

“She was hired as an assistant manager for the casino one year ago. Promptly promoted to manager just six months ago.”

Soto had grown up in Brentwood, a whole different world from Nora’s North Hollywood roots. And Nora had barely finished high school, much less gotten a foot in the door of a fancy university.

“Our client’s husband started …” Nora considered the best way to put it “He started interacting with Ms. Soto six months ago. Ironically about the same time she was promoted.”

Tallant sipped his club soda as he watched the blonde schmooze with patrons. “That’s what the wife says, but we have no documented proof of the allegation.”

Nora had a feeling there was more to this than she knew. Jim had gone over the file with her, but something about the client had sounded personal to him on some level. When she’d asked, he had dismissed the question by moving on to the next topic.

A little jaunt on the Internet last night hadn’t provided Nora with any sort of personal connection between the client and the Colbys, but her instincts were buzzing with the idea that there was something beneath the surface. This was more than just another case. A lot more.

Maybe her new partner had a little inside info. At this point she didn’t see any reason for him not to share. “Does the Colby Agency generally take cases with such a personal connection?”

Tallant turned from his surveillance of the blonde to stare with no small amount of frustration directly at Nora. “We’ve gone over the strategy for this assignment.” He thrust his half-empty glass at her. “Don’t ignore check-in time,” he reminded as she took the glass. Then he walked away.

Nora glared at the glass, then at his back. She was to check in with him every hour when they were separated. No exceptions.

This … no, he was going to be a major pain in the butt.

Nora caught a passing waiter and placed the tumbler on his tray, then smiled appreciatively.

Time to interject her own strategy into this game. He hadn’t specifically said she couldn’t.

When Tallant was fully engaged in conversation with the other woman, Nora headed for the bank of elevators in the glamorous lobby.

The Colby Agency had their way of doing things. But in Nora’s opinion there were far more direct methods. She stepped onto the elevator and selected the twelfth floor. Leaning against the back wall of the empty car, she clutched her satin purse close to her chest. Traveling via commercial airliner these days made it difficult to carry one’s tools of the trade. But she had devised methods for getting around the possibility of her checked bag being inspected. Incorporating various listening devices and breaking-and-entering tools into her jewelry, cosmetics and such worked like a charm every time.

On the twelfth floor she exited the elevator car and strolled to room 1221. Dr. Vandiver was having a drink with friends in the lobby bar downstairs. According to the waiter serving his table, the group had ordered an appetizer from the restaurant next door. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Nora surveyed the door to his room. He would never know she’d been here. With a quick glance right, then left, she gingerly plucked the access card from her purse and slid it into the electronic lock. A small wireless scanner about the size of a makeup compact flashed red, then yellow and finally green. The light on the door’s lock went to green. Nora opened the door, simultaneously removing the access card from the locking mechanism.

And she was in.

When the door had closed with a soft click behind her, she surveyed the suite. Same layout as the one she had two floors below but far larger and grander. Management likely ensured that Vandiver always got a VIP suite. Unlike Nora’s small sitting room, this one was immense, with a generous balcony overlooking the famous Strip. The first of three telephones sat on a table next to an elegant sofa. Less than a minute was required to place the bug in the cordless handset.

A dozen steps across the plush carpet and she entered the well-appointed bedroom with its enormous bed piled with lush bedding. Vandiver’s luggage stood near the walk-in closet, untouched as of yet. The luxurious bed, flanked by wide tables and proud lamps, and a distinctive highboy-style chest of drawers lined the walls not adorned with exquisite art or imposing windows. Two lush chairs, separated by another gleaming ornate table, stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall window framing a gorgeous view of the miles of bold, brash architecture and exotic lights that set Sin City apart from any other.

The second phone, on the table to the left of the bed, was the next target. Her fingers moved deftly as she installed the tiny device. The third phone was in the en suite bathroom. Yards and yards of sleek marble and state-of-the-art fixtures cloaked the room. Thick white towels hung on warming racks.

A few seconds more and her work was done.

Nora made her way back to the sitting room and paused long enough to sync her cell phone with those in the room by putting a call through directly to the room. She slid the phone back into her crowded clutch purse and headed for the door.

Tallant would be wondering where she’d gotten off to. She was supposed to be hanging out in the bar, watching Vandiver.

Her accomplishment here would do a hell of a lot more good than watching the guy sip Scotch and nibble at finger foods.

She had no intention of spending any more time than absolutely necessary on this assignment with Tallant. The sooner she was back in Chicago, the happier she would be. Her rotation with him would be over and her next assignment would be with someone else.

Anyone else would be fine by her.

The shadow of his tall frame flitted across her mind’s eye. She shook off the distant yearning that accompanied the image.

No man had ever gotten to her in such an annoying manner. The vague idea that she was deeply entrenched in denial frustrated her all the more.

She didn’t like him. End of story.

At the entry door she reached for the handle; the distinct hum of the electronic lock stopped her dead in her tracks.

An even more distinct click warned that someone was about to enter the room.

She flattened against the wall just in time for the door to open. It stopped mere centimeters from her nose. Nora held her breath.

“Yes, I’m aware of the consequences.”

Vandiver strode across the room, his cell phone pressed against his ear in one hand, the other working his tie loose from his throat.

Nora remained stone still, her lungs bursting to draw in more air, as he wandered left toward the bedroom, still struggling with the knot in his tie and speaking firmly to the person on the other end of the line.

“That’s out of the question,” Vandiver snapped as he disappeared into the bedroom.

Nora dared to breathe.

She had to get out of here before he came back into the sitting room.

Tallant would kill her if she got caught.

Holding her breath once more, she reached toward the door handle.

The spray of water in the bathroom stalled her escape once more.

Vandiver was preparing to take a shower.

That could work to her benefit in a very big way. If he’d left his cell phone in the bedroom … she could add a device to it, as well.

What a break that would be ….

Tallant’s voice rang in her ears. Don’t make a single move without my approval.

Okay, so maybe he had warned her not to formulate her own strategy.

Nora blinked. She’d certainly already barged past that line in the sand.

What was one more infraction?

Especially if it served to resolve this case.

The move was a risk, no doubt.

If she was caught, she would simply have to wing it. She’d done it before. Would likely do it again.

Go for it.

She slipped off her stilettos and left them at the door. Her steps silent on the thick carpet, she moved quickly toward the bedroom. As she drew nearer, the water sounds grew louder.

Vandiver started to sing.

Not well and certainly not in tune, but providentially loudly.

Three steps into the room and she hesitated. The door to the bathroom was open.

A couple of her favorite curse words flitted through her mind.

Along with a pair of black trousers, a white shirt and a red power tie, the cell phone lay on the bed, as if he’d tossed it there … as if he had nothing at all to worry about.

Adrenaline moved through her veins. Nothing but Nora Friedman. A smile tilted her lips.

Seven feet stood between her and the phone. She glanced at the bathroom door. The glass-enclosed shower had fogged with the billowing steam.

She could do it.

Piece of cake.

Feet wide apart, she braced for the move.

Her purse vibrated. Her fingers clenched around it as if that would somehow stop the insistent tremor.

Her muscles tightened.

Tallant was checking up on her.

Another glance toward the bathroom.

Just do it.

Three long, soundless strides put her at the foot of the bed. She snatched up the phone and backed up, taking the same number of steps.

The off-key melody wafting from the bathroom assured her that Vandiver remained occupied, allowing her to focus on removing the back from the phone. She dug through her clutch for the tiny device required to do the job. With the purse under her arm once more, she installed the electronic splitter in the phone.

Oxygen didn’t fill her lungs again until the back was on the phone and she prepared to toss it onto the bed.

It rang.

Her eyes widened and her heart practically stopped as the phone’s raging tune blasted a second time.

Heated oaths resonated from the bathroom.

Move!

Nora tossed the cell phone onto the bed just as it erupted into musical notes again. Without a glance in the direction of the shower, she dashed back to the entry door and snatched up her waiting shoes.

“Yeah.”

Vandiver’s voice. He was out of the shower and on the phone.

If he heard the click of the door latch disengaging …

His voice grew muffled.

He’d walked back into the bathroom.

Her knees wobbled just a little with relief.

She held her breath, wrapped her fingers around the door handle and pushed downward.

The click of the lock disengaging echoed like an explosion in the air.

Nora slipped into the corridor, slowly let the door close and the lock reengage. With a liberating sigh, she backed up a step.

Clear. She’d accomplished her mission.

Strong fingers wrapped around her forearm.

Her gaze collided with furious gold eyes.

Tallant dragged her several strides down the corridor before leaning his head close to hers and demanding, “What the hell were you doing in Vandiver’s room? No.” He shook his head. “I don’t even want to know.”

Busted. “Looking through his briefcase.” Sounded good. But from the ruthlessness of his grip and his continued march toward the stairwell exit, he wasn’t buying it for a second.

When he’d pushed through the stairwell door, with her in tow, he surveyed the landing as well as the stairs going in both directions. Confident they were alone, he pointed an outraged face at hers. “I don’t know what the hell you were thinking, but we had this talk, Friedman.”

They had indeed.

“And I clearly remember thinking it was totally ridiculous at the time.” Not the right thing to say, judging by the way his jaw clamped hard and his lips thinned into a flat line of fury.

He was totally ticked off.

The cool tile floor beneath her bare feet served as a harsh reminder that she had taken a huge risk.

He would likely report her to his superiors. Who would in turn convey the entire incident to her boss, Jim Colby.

She was dead.

The great idea didn’t seem so great at the moment. Except she had accomplished her goal … assuming he gave her the chance to explain.

“I’m lead on this assignment,” he said, his voice low and lethal. “You will follow my orders or you will go back to Chicago.”

Funny, she’d never noticed how those thick curls of his swept across his forehead. Gave him an almost boyish look. But there was nothing boyish about his grip or his gaze. He was madder than hell.

“You were tied up with the blonde,” she offered humbly, innocently. “The opportunity presented itself and I jumped at it. Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” She widened her eyes, tried her best to look sincere. “Did I misunderstand?”

“Yeah, right.” He released her arm only to grab the purse dangling from her right hand.

He opened it.

There would be no explaining that away.

“You just happened to be carrying all this—” he opened the clutch as wide as possible to display the contents for her perusal “—when that lucky break occurred?”

Nora leaned to the right and tugged one shoe on, then leaned the opposite way and pulled on the other. “I like to be prepared, Tallant. Don’t they teach you that at the Colby Agency?”

She doubted breaking and entering was a part of the orientation at the Colby Agency. The whole staff was a little uptight for Nora’s taste.

He shoved the purse back at her. “Let’s go,” he ordered.

Her gaze narrowed with suspicion. “Where?”

“Time for a conference call.”

The man didn’t waste any time. She’d give him that.

“Look here, Tallant.” She had no idea how she would do it, but she had to convince him to go with the flow on this one.

“What?” he growled.

Her purse vibrated.

Surely it was too soon for … She opened her purse, stared at the screen on her phone.

A call to Vandiver’s room phone.

Nora held up a hand for Tallant to wait as she opened her phone. Two more rings buzzed before Vandiver answered the call.

“Ten p.m. Your contact will meet you at the Parisian Hotel, under the Eiffel Tower. Bring half the cash and a photo.”

Male voice. No detectable accent.

“What does this contact look like?” Vandiver wanted to know. His voice sounded strained … nervous.

“Don’t worry,” the unidentified man said. “The contact will recognize you.”

The caller dropped off the open line.

Vandiver swore, then hung up.

Cash and a picture.

Nora closed her phone and lifted her gaze to Tallant’s. “Ten o’clock tonight. He’s bringing cash and a photo to a contact.”

Understanding dawned in her partner’s eyes.

It was going down.

And she had gotten the heads-up.

She savored his stunned expression. “That, Mr. Play-by-the-Rules, is how it’s done.”

Chapter Four
6:50 p.m.

Friedman was out of control. Ted paced his room.

His so-called partner sat on the sofa, acting as if he was the one who’d done something stupid.

For the last half hour he’d contemplated calling Victoria.

But … Friedman had garnered a major lead.

Less than twenty-four hours on-site and she had a serious lead.

He’d scarcely made any headway with the alleged mistress.

But then he hadn’t broken two laws, one being federal, in the process.

“You’re overreacting.”

When he whipped around, he fully intended to glare at her with all the frustration and impatience twisting inside him. Didn’t happen. Instead his traitorous gaze zeroed straight in on those long, toned legs, one crossed over the other, where the hem of her sleek black dress rested provocatively at the tops of her thighs.

“I am not—” with effort he shifted his focus to her face, which was every bit as distracting “—overreacting.” Ted took a breath, ordered his respiration to slow to a more reasonable rate.

He was ticked off, that was all. As if to defy his assessment, his errant gaze wandered back to those shapely legs. Gritting his teeth, he forced his attention upward. He blinked when his eyes committed mutiny once more and stalled on her breasts, encased tightly beneath that slinky black fabric. “We have a certain standard and protocol at the Colby Agency.” He managed to look her dead in the eye at that point. “It doesn’t include breaking the law unless it’s a matter of life and death.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin in defiance. “Isn’t it? Vandiver is planning to off his wife, right?”

Another deep breath. Stay calm. He needed patience here. As much to get his head on straight as to tolerate her attitude. “But the danger is not imminent,” he countered, “and the wife is under our protection. Those terms set the tone and pacing of our movements.”

The Colby Agency had definitely broken laws in the past; just a few months ago breaking some major ones had been unavoidable. But those instances were the exception, not the rule. “As long as the goal can be accomplished the right way, that’s the way we do it,” he added.

He started pacing again, mostly to prevent staring at any part of her. Around the office she wore slacks and blouses. Not once had she worn anything that drew such attention to her … shape. Was it really necessary for her to be decked out like this now? Clearing the thoughts from his head, he said in conclusion, “I don’t understand why that concept is so difficult for you to comprehend.”

Standard field operating procedures, client relations, all of this had been gone over time and time again since the merger between the Colby Agency and the Equalizers began. Friedman seemed to be the only one who refused to embrace the ultimate objective.

She stood, planted her hands on her hips, accentuating the perfect curve from that narrow waist to gently sloping hips. “Fine,” she announced with obvious disdain. “I got it. Are we going to put together a strategy for tonight or not? Time is wasting.”

The set of those full lips told him she was only saying what he wanted to hear. She had no intention of changing her MO, any more than she planned to acquiesce to his lead.

But she was right.

Whether this involved the wife or not, Vandiver had a clandestine rendezvous tonight, and it was his and Friedman’s job to determine the nature of the meeting.

“Unless another call is intercepted,” he informed her, “we’ll attempt to get close enough to eavesdrop on Vandiver’s conversation with the contact. We’ll snap a few photos and forward those to the agency for analysis and to Rockford, in case the contact shows up at his location.”

Friedman strutted across the room to the wet bar. While Ted struggled to evict from his head the way her hips swayed, she poured herself a double shot of bourbon, neat. He opened his mouth to remind her that Colby investigators didn’t drink on the job, but she started talking first.

“That could work.” She shrugged. “But if we want to ensure success, we intercept Vandiver. I’ll act as the contact. Get the story straight from the horse’s mouth while you keep an eye out for the real contact. Distract him or her if necessary.”

She was unquestionably out of her mind. The flash of fury in her eyes warned that he’d stated the thought out loud.

“You have a better plan?” she challenged, then took a long swallow of her drink.

He crossed the room to stand in front of her, took the drink from her hand and set it aside before parking his arms over his chest to match her stance. “First of all, we’re here unarmed. We don’t know who this contact is. If he or she is local, chances are he or she is armed. In view of the fact that we haven’t been able to assess just how desperate Vandiver is, maintaining a cautionary distance is the proper step. We will prepare for that strategy.”

Though they weren’t armed with weapons, Ted was prepared with the usual intelligence-gathering equipment. All he needed was the place and time—those he had thanks to Friedman—and a proper vantage point for watching and listening. Today’s technology provided ample means to gather the necessary information without face-to-face contact.

She glared at the drink he’d set aside and then at him. “That’s an option, I suppose.” She tilted her face up to his, making him all too aware of just how close they were standing. “But I like my plan better.”

“That’s irrelevant.” He turned away, headed for the bed, where his luggage still lay unpacked, other than the black trousers and shirt he’d selected for making contact with Camille Soto. He dug through the bag and picked out the equipment they would need for tonight. Binoculars. Personal parabolic bionic ear. The lighting in the area would be sufficient so as not to require night vision.

“I should change,” she called out to him.

That would definitely make life easier for him.

He strode back to the sitting room as she reached the door. “Give me five minutes and I’ll go with you.” No way was he letting her out of his sight. She would ditch him and do this her way. He had her number already.

She leaned against the still-closed door and studied him a moment. “I had no idea, Tallant.”

Suspicion narrowed his gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She lifted a shoulder and let it fall suggestively. “Considering the way you’ve been staring at my legs and breasts, I suppose seeing me naked would be entertaining for you.”

Fury tightened his jaw. Unfortunately, the images sparked by her statement tightened other areas of his anatomy. “We stick together until this is done.”

“Whatever.” She pushed off the door, executed a catwalk strut to the nearest chair and plopped down in it, stretching those long legs out in front of her.

He’d asked for that one. Shifting his focus back to business, he gathered the equipment and reached for a summer-weight black sports jacket. The super ear clipped on his belt like a cell phone. He slid the parabolic microphone into his right jacket pocket, the compact binoculars into the left.

Good to go.

He stalked right past her and all the way to the door. When he opened it and paused for her to precede him, she rolled her eyes and pushed out of the chair. He stared at the ceiling as she waltzed past him. This new turn of events was obviously a very bad cosmic joke.

Or maybe it was merely her determination to ensure he stumbled, giving her the lead.

She could forget about it.

He was in charge.

She would learn that lesson one way or another.

Her room was next door to his. She shot him a look as she inserted the key card and shoved the door inward. Something about the look in her dark eyes warned that she wasn’t giving up just yet.

Reluctance miring his step, he entered enemy territory—her room.

The whir of a zipper jerked his gaze upward—just in time to see the black dress slide down the gentle curves of her body and puddle around the matching black stilettos, which she promptly kicked off.

“I’ll only be a minute,” she called over her shoulder.

Wearing only a lacy black bra and perfectly coordinated thong, she disappeared into the adjoining bedroom.

Sweat beaded on his upper lip. So she was going to play it that way, was she? His unexpected preoccupation with her feminine assets had given her a whiff of weakness in the competition.

Not going to work. He was only human and certainly not blind. Looking at what she flaunted wasn’t a weakness. To the contrary, it was a natural instinct. His being male would not override his professional sense.

He had his orders. She would learn to play by the Colby rules or she would be out the door.

That would make his professional life far less stressful and annoying. Back to normal, to the way things were before the merger.

Then why did he feel as if a rock had just settled in his gut?

No. No. No. He absolutely refused to admit, even to himself, that the woman was growing on him in any capacity whatsoever.

“Ready?”

Ted blinked. The slinky black dress was gone. As were the pointy stilettos. But the new outfit was every bit as disturbing on a purely primal level.

Black formfitting slacks with a matching black scoop-necked silk blouse that molded to her breasts as if she wore nothing at all. Could a person actually wear anything under something that tight?

“You ready or what?” she demanded when he didn’t immediately react.

It took two seconds too long for his tongue to catch up with his brain. “Yes.”

He opened the door, wondering where the heck she’d managed to stuff her cell phone.

As she sashayed past him and into the corridor, he got an answer to the question. The sandals she sported weren’t stilettos, but the chunky heels were sky-high. Leather straps and silver chains wrapped around her ankles. Clipped to a strap on the inside of her left ankle was the black slimline cell phone.

Chances were anyone—males in particular—who caught sight of her wouldn’t be looking at her feet. Not by a long shot. Ted mentally kicked himself for staring at her swaying backside.

This was going to be harder than he’d imagined.

Chapter Five
Parisian Hotelx 9:30 p.m.

The location was perfect for privacy, slap in the middle of the Strip. Lots of patrons as well as tourists. Easy to get lost in a crowd this size.

Nora strolled along the sidewalk running parallel to the miniature river Seine re-creation. The Eiffel Tower replica, half the size of the original, provided numerous locations for a clandestine rendezvous. Talking Tallant into splitting up for better coverage had been a major pain. He didn’t trust her one iota to stick to his plan.

He was smart.

He shouldn’t trust her to follow a strategy she wasn’t convinced was the best course of action.

She was smarter. Or at least not as attached to the rules.

“Still no sign of the target,” Tallant’s voice murmured in her earpiece.

“Affirmative,” she responded. Tallant hadn’t bothered to thank her for the device she’d installed in Vandiver’s phones. At nine o’clock sharp a command had been sent to the software to block all communications directly to his cell phone and his hotel room. The move wouldn’t prevent a caller from calling his room from a house phone; it would block only calls from outside. But that was no longer an issue since he’d left his room more than half an hour ago.

Nora scanned the crowd. Glitzy evening dresses, jeans and tees. Young and old. Vegas was the hot spot for those from all walks of life seeking a thrilling vacation. Or simply a wide assortment of casinos at which to gamble away their hard-earned cash.

She gave her head a little shake. Never play a game unless you know how to hedge your bet. That was her motto. She’d spent enough time here in the past to know how to win. Observe, analyze, then strike. Any other way that resulted in a win was pure luck.

She had never once depended upon luck.

Her gaze zeroed in on the man with the thinline briefcase making his way through the crowd clustered near the entrance to the Eiffel Tower. For a minimal fee one could take the elevator to the top for the best views in the city.

But the only view Nora cared about was of the man dressed in black trousers and a white shirt. The red power tie was like a beacon. She purposely hadn’t mentioned to Tallant the clothes she’d seen arranged on Vandiver’s bed. She wanted to spot him first.

Removing the earpiece and stuffing it into her pocket as she hustled in the target’s direction, she understood that it would take Tallant mere seconds to spot her and realize what she was up to.

Timing was everything.

If she got to Vandiver first, Tallant would have no choice but to back off, however reluctantly, and allow her move to play out.

But if he intercepted her before she reached the target … she was done. He would have her on a plane back to Chicago first thing in the a.m., and by the p.m. she would be facing a Colby firing squad.

Nora didn’t get another good breath until she was right on Vandiver’s tail. So close she could smell his exclusive cologne.

She had counted on him being early.

Matching his pace, she moved up beside him and slid her arm around his. “Hello, Doctor.” She smiled. His eyes widened with uncertainty. “Let’s find a nice, quiet place.”

She guided him toward the pool deck and small adjoining café du Parc. The spot came with a phenomenal view of the Eiffel Tower and plenty of distractions to avoid drawing attention.

A waiter cruised by and Nora ordered drinks.

“I thought you would be a—” Vandiver cleared his throat “—a man.”

Nora smiled. “Don’t be fooled, Dr. Vandiver. I’m very good at what I do.”

As in the photo included with his dossier, Vandiver looked young for his age. Not a sign of gray in his full head of hair and not one wrinkle on his tanned face. She imagined that he kept a personal supply of Botox, along with a state-of-the-art tanning bed. No wasted time at a spa for this man.

He glanced around nervously. “I’m not sure how to begin.”

Nora waited until he’d made eye contact once more. “I’m certain you explained your needs to my employer. I’ll require the photo and the cash, as promised.” He reached for the briefcase at his feet as she continued. “We’ll review the most relevant details.”

He passed the briefcase to her. “It’s all there,” he said. The line would have been cliché if not for the fact that this was clearly his first time being involved in a deal such as this. He was far too nervous to be anything but a novice. “The photo’s there, too.”

A quick peek at the photo confirmed that his wife, Heather, was the mark. Confusion lined Nora’s brow as she glanced at the envelope containing the cash. Not exactly a beefy bundle.

She set the case at her feet, then scooted it forward, out of sight under the table. “You’re sure the money is right?” A guy like him could surely afford the best when it came to hiring a hit man—or woman—for the job of offing his wife.

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