She’d been made. Goddamn facial recognition software. Didn’t matter if she wore a rainbow wig.
Teddy shoved her way through the poker room, picking up speed as she went. The fat suit slowed her down, the dense foam slipping around her thighs and stomach. When she felt her wig falling off, she didn’t even bother trying to grab it. She was too terrified to care.
The theater doors flew open, releasing the late show. Teddy threw herself into the crowd, letting the flow of people carry her to the front exit. For thirty blissful, life-affirming seconds, the tactic worked brilliantly. She could see the casino entrance and, beyond it, the glittering neon expanse of the Vegas night.
Until Sergei smiled his crooked smile and blocked her way.
He really needs to see a dentist.
Teddy veered right, heading for the ladies’ room. She would ditch what was left of her disguise and make a run for it.
Just as she reached the restroom door, someone grabbed her by the shoulder. She tilted her head to see the NFL linebacker who’d been watching her so intently back at the poker table. He steered her into a service area blocked off from the general public by a tall rattan trifold screen.
Over/under on someone thinking this guy is kidnapping me if I start screaming?
Before she could open her mouth, he stopped her. “I’m not going to kidnap you,” he said, his voice even. The calmness of his demeanor startled her. She tried to twist free. If this guy was going to hurt her—
“Teddy, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her jaw dropped open. Had her fear been written so clearly on her face? And how did this guy know her name? Then it hit her: he wasn’t some pervert or hustler—he was a cop. “What do you want?” she said.
“For starters, keep your mouth shut.”
He didn’t act like any cop she’d met before. Even if he didn’t read her the Miranda, she knew that everything she said could and would be used against her. Especially since she’d broken the restraining order that banned her from entering the Bellagio. She would be wearing an orange jumpsuit for the next six months.
Teddy could already picture her mom’s face, red from crying. She could hear her dad’s “I’m disappointed in you” speech. Teddy hated letting her parents down. But it seemed like that was all she had done her entire life. She imagined them visiting her in jail and felt her stomach drop again: there wasn’t anything that could make her sink any lower in her parents’ eyes. Well, maybe something: it started with Sergei and ended with Zharkov.
As she tried again to free herself from the man’s grasp, a new thought formed: If this guy really were a cop, I’d be in handcuffs by now.
“I’m serious this time. Let go of my arm or I’ll scream,” she said.
“I wouldn’t suggest it.” He pulled her out from behind the screen, and she looked up to see Sergei heading straight toward her. The angry pit boss and his security team were close behind. Teddy took a sharp breath. She was trapped in plain sight.
“Easy,” the linebacker said, his voice low and soothing, as though he were talking to a skittish horse. “Just stay quiet and they won’t notice us.”
Was this guy delusional? Though the light peppering of gray in his hair pegged him as middle-aged, he was big, and with one good swing, he could probably knock Sergei flat. But two armed security guards and a pit boss, too? Unless . . . Her gaze snapped to his jacket, searching for some sign of a bulky holster strapped across his chest. She did not want to be caught in a casino cross fire.
Her thoughts were so tangled she almost missed what happened next. Which was . . . nothing. Sergei slowed. His grin faded. Teddy looked into Sergei’s eyes, expecting to see the same cold fury she had encountered minutes ago. Instead, his eyes were blank, pupils like black holes. Teddy looked from him to the pit boss and his crew—all wore identical vacant expressions. Her gaze swung to the linebacker, watching as the group passed by. His stare held the same pointed intensity with which he’d watched her play poker.
Her heart picked up. She didn’t want to believe, but had this guy just cast a spell? Like real-life magic? She’d have been more freaked out if she hadn’t been so impressed. As soon as the men were out of earshot, Teddy broke her silence. “What the hell was that?”
He released her. “We’ve got two, maybe three, minutes before they remember who they’re looking for.”
“How did you—”
“Later. First things first: I’m not here to arrest you.”
She took a shaky breath. “You’re a cop, though, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Ex-cop. Retired detective from the Las Vegas Metro PD.”
She tilted her chin up defiantly, despite the fact that she in no way had the upper hand. “If you’re a cop—or ex-cop—then why should I trust you?”
“I would start at the beginning if we had time, Teddy. But we don’t. I’m Clint, by the way. Clint Corbett.” He held out his hand, and when Teddy ignored it, he sighed. “I’m not here to arrest you. I’m here to recruit you.”
“For a poker game or something?” Teddy asked. “You must know by now that I’m banned from the Bellagio. As well as most casinos in Vegas. So I wouldn’t be very useful.”
“Not for poker.” He looked around the hallway. “I work for a school in San Francisco. And we want you.”
Why me?
Teddy didn’t voice her thought, one that had haunted her since she’d found out she was adopted, since she had realized she’d been given up as a baby. After her parents died, no one from her extended family, none of her parents’ friends, even, had come forward to claim her. But it seemed like Clint heard it anyway.
“You’re one of the best candidates I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m not all
