The Collectors

billion-dollar properties? It’s like they’re printing money.” She paused. “And they are. And helping their country at the same time.”

He sat down behind his desk and stared at her with, for the first time, just a hint of interest. That was all Annabelle needed at this point.

“And did you ever wonder why none of the Vegas players have been investigated by the feds in the last ten years? I’m not talking Mafia prosecutions, that’s old news. But you and I know what goes on there. And yet like you said, the Justice Department is all over your butt.” She paused. “And I know a man as smart as Jerry Bagger can’t believe in that much luck.” She laid her card down on his desk. “You can call anytime. People in my business don’t keep regular office hours.” She glanced at the big men who still hovered next to Leo. “And we can see ourselves out, fellows, thanks.”

She and Leo left.

When the door closed behind the pair, Bagger snapped, “Tail ’em.”

CHAPTER 19

ANNABELLE AND LEO WERE IN A cab; her gaze had never left the rear window.

“They back there?” Leo asked in a whisper.

“Of course. Where else would they be?”

“For a second there, I thought those damn goons were gonna toss me out the window. How come I always have to play bad cop to your good cop?”

“Because you play bad so incredibly good.”

Leo gave a shiver. “The guy’s the same nightmare I remember him being. You see him crack that nut with one hand?”

“Come on, he’s a walking cliche from a bad mob movie.”

The cab pulled in front of their hotel, and they got out. Annabelle walked down the street and then crossed it. She rapped on the window of the Hummer parked there. The glass slid down, revealing one of Bagger’s burly men.

She said pleasantly, “You can tell Mr. Bagger that I’m staying in room 1412. Oh, here’s another card for you in case he threw the other one away.” She turned and rejoined Leo, and they walked into the hotel together. Her phone buzzed. It was Tony, calling to confirm he was in position. She’d bought him a very expensive pair of surveillance binoculars and had him check into a room of a hotel right across the street from the Pompeii, which had a fine view of the window line to Bagger’s office suite.

The call to her room she’d been expecting came ten minutes later. She signaled Leo, who was standing by the window. He did a quick text message to Tony on his BlackBerry.

Annabelle poised her hand over the phone and motioned with the other one to Leo. “Come on, come on.” The phone rang five times, six, seven.

On the ninth ring Leo got a confirming reply right back and nodded. Annabelle snatched up the phone. “Hello?”

“How’d you make my guys so fast?” Bagger bellowed.

“When it comes to surveillance, my . . . employer really can’t be beat, Mr. Bagger,” she informed him. “It’s merely a question of thousands of assets on the ground and unlimited money.” The truth was she knew he’d order them to be followed, and kept her gaze out the rear window of the cab. She’d seen on their earlier recon of the casino that Bagger’s personal security all drove yellow Hummers. They weren’t that hard to spot.

“Meaning I’m under surveillance?” he snapped.

“We’re all being watched, Mr. Bagger. You shouldn’t feel singled out.”

“Cut the ‘Mr. Bagger’ shit. How do you know so much about casino scams that you were able to spot two going on in my place? Makes me think you’re way too close to the con world.”

“I didn’t spot them. We had three teams in your casino today who were trolling for something I could use as bait to get to you. The members of those teams are experts in casino cons. They relayed the intel to us, and we told your pit bosses. Simple.”

“Okay, we’ll just let that go for now. What exactly do you want?”

“I thought I was clear in your office about my intentions—”

“Yeah, yeah! I know what you said. I want to know what you meant by it.”

“This isn’t something I’m prepared to discuss over the phone. NS—,” she began, and then said quickly, “Hard- line phones aren’t very secure.”

“You were going to say NSA, weren’t you?” he shot back. “The spooks, I know all about them.”

“With all due respect, nobody knows all about NSA, not even POTUS,” she said, dropping one more carefully scripted initialism.

There was a silence on the end of the line.

“Are you still there?” she asked.

He snapped, “I’m here!”

“Do you want to meet at your office?”

“That’s no good. I’m, uh, I’m already headed out of town.”

“No, you’re not. You’re sitting in your office right now.” This information was what Tony had e-mailed Leo.