Submitting in Vegas (Vegas Morellis 3) - Page 100

it.

I can’t, though. I don’t trust myself to do that.

And I don’t like to think about it, but if Mateo did stumble onto something real, I don’t want to tip her off.

I cannot fucking believe this shit.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it out to check. It’s from Rex, and all it says is, “Come around front.”

Fucking Rex. I thought Mateo pulled him aside and let him eat just because he likes the kid, but then he sent Rex with Adrian to check out Virginia’s apartment. I don’t feel good about them needing me to come around front. If they didn’t find anything, they could just come back to the party, shrug it off as undue diligence resulting in working for Mateo’s distrustful ass, and that would be that. We could all go about our evenings, and everything would be just fucking fine.

They probably found something stupid and they’re making too much of it. That’s all. As soon as I see whatever “evidence” they’ve brought me, I’ll know they’re grasping. I’ll know Virginia is innocent, and I’ll be able to breathe normally again.

When I get around front, Rex is still in the car with the passenger door hanging open. Guys up here have been repositioned. Rather than being on the lookout for trouble from outside, now they’re watching the back yard. Watching Virginia.

Fuck.

I approach Rex, waiting to see this “damning evidence.” When I look at his lap, all I see is a dictionary and a box of vanilla wafers.

“All that searching make you hungry?” I inquire.

Rex doesn’t smile. He opens the vanilla wafer box and draws out a gun. “This is hers. Did you know Virginia had a gun? Sin told me once she couldn’t shoot. Does she carry them as accessories?” he asks sarcastically.

My face goes blank. I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think Virginia knew how to use a gun either, but then I’ve never asked. I certainly didn’t think she would have one, but again, it’s not my business. It’s not damning, either. “She’s a woman living alone in Sin City. Maybe she wanted to be able to protect herself.”

“But you didn’t know,” he says, to verify.

“I never asked,” I snap. “If that’s all you have, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you—”

Rex shakes his head, sliding the gun back inside the empty box and flipping open the dictionary. It’s not a dictionary, it’s a lock box, but it’s a cheap one and he clearly didn’t struggle to pick the lock. Opening it up, he sighs and lets me have a look.

I grab the box out of his hand and look through the contents. There are tapes in here that look suspiciously like the tapes I use to record video surveillance at the restaurant. Two tapes. Beneath the tapes is a folded up piece of notebook paper. I open it up, and I’m a little jarred to see Ben’s handwriting. Addresses, first names, pick-up dates. Notes that Virginia shouldn’t have, but I guess it’s not impossible he might’ve dropped it at the restaurant and she picked it up.

She should’ve given it back, though. Definitely shouldn’t have kept it.

Underneath the paper, there are some photographs. It takes me a minute to understand what they are, because they’re pictures of nothing. Places.

One of the pictures has an address, and a dead guy’s car in the driveway. I remember it’s his car because of the bumper sticker.

Feeling like I’ve just swallowed my fucking heart, I drop it all back into the box.

It’s evidence. She collected fucking evidence.

Adrian is standing outside the car, and he finally speaks. “We checked out the tapes, but we didn’t have enough time to see why she kept them. They’re surveillance footage from the restaurant, but it’s a lot of tape to go through. We assume she must have overheard something damning on these nights. I stopped by the restaurant on the way back and checked your tapes. The ones from these dates are still there, so she must have borrowed the originals and made copies so you wouldn’t notice.”

Rex nods. “That means it’s possible there are more tapes hidden in her apartment somewhere.” Holding up the fake dictionary, he says, “This box is small and pretty flimsy, so we figure if she has anything more solid than this, she probably did a better job of hiding it. We’ll go back and do a more thorough sweep once we get her contained.”

What they said deserves a response, but I don’t have one. I can’t speak.

Seeing I’m not going to be much help right now, but understanding we need to act, Mateo places a firm hand on my shoulder and gives me an understanding squeeze. “I know you’re not in a good place right now, Rafe, but we have to take care of this. I assume you’ll want to talk to her first, get some closure. Do you have somewhere secure you can keep her at your house?”

“I don’t have a fucking dungeon, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He does. He has a fucking dungeon. I thought it was overkill, but hell, maybe I should have one, too. This isn’t the first fucking woman to betray me, so maybe it won’t be the last.

Glancing back at Sin’s house, Mateo says, “We could keep her here. Sin’s house seems to be better equipped for something like this.”

“No,” I say lowly. “We’ll take her to my house.”

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