Debra Webb - Colby Control

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.

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.