She wrapped her arms around herself tight. “We’re too high up to take the stairs. The elevator will be faster. They could be coming up the staircase as we speak.”
His nostrils flared. “I’m so foolish for using a traceable phone.”
“It’s not your fault. This isn’t exactly your wheelhouse.”
The elevator finally opened, and they both breathed out a sigh of relief to find it empty. They stepped inside and Naveen jabbed the button for the lobby, tapping his foot as they began their descent.
After an interminable length of time, the doors opened, and they pushed past the people waiting to pile into the elevator. There were even more crowds now than there had been before they’d gone upstairs. Naveen scanned the floor. Because he was taller, he noticed the pair near the Concierge desk before Mira did. “Three o’clock. Same guys as before.” Except now, the blond had his arm in a sling and was holding himself funny, his Burberry coat long gone. His partner’s hair looked even greasier from here, and was no longer in a ponytail.
Mira breathed out through her nostrils. “Guess I didn’t kill anyone today. That’s good.”
“Bet you never thought you’d say that.” He wrapped his hand around her arm and gently steered them in the opposite direction. “Be casual.”
They walked at a brisk clip into the crowds. Naveen dared to glance over his shoulder once, twice. The men hadn’t spotted them yet, but they were making their way toward them. If they did run, they’d be spotted immediately.
He nearly stumbled when Mira grabbed hold of his hand and pulled them behind a bank of slot machines. She hopped onto a seat, and tugged him down as well so they were well hidden. “Let them pass,” she said quietly. “They’re between us and the parking garage.”
A waitress shot them a curious look. Naveen fixed a polite smile on his face and held out his hand. “Give me some cash. We have to blend in.”
She fumbled a fifty-dollar bill out from her dad’s jacket and he stuck it into the machine, his gaze scouring the area around them.
“Sugar pie.”
He jerked at the computer-generated feminine voice, and looked up at the machine’s logo, three hearts aflame. Heated Hearts. “What the hell?”
“The machines are different themes.” Unfazed, Mira smashed the spin button without even looking at the display.
“Honey bunch,” the machine sighed. They won nothing, and Mira hit the REPEAT BET button immediately.
“Oh, yeah.”
Through the gap in the machines, he noticed their kidnappers walk past them and he tensed until the pair passed. Mira hit the button again. And again. And again. A droplet of sweat snaked down Naveen’s back as he counted the minutes.
“Ugggggnh,” the machine groaned.
“What is this theme,” he asked quietly. “Creepy robot porn?”
Mira was stopped from answering when the lights started to swirl around them, and the machine’s cries of ecstasy grew louder. A swirl of hearts in the shape of a cyclone took up the screen at the top of the machine. “What the fuck is happening?”
“You unlocked the passion tornado! It’s the jackpot wheel.”
Naveen looked down at the tiny older woman standing next to him. She didn’t even reach his collarbone, and he was seated. “Oh.”
“It’s loud.” Mira came to her feet, her eyes darting around, and her nerves were catching, because he followed her. It was loud, and the attention was the last thing they needed.
“You can have it,” Naveen said to the woman.
Mira grabbed his arm. For the second time since they’d been down here, not that he was counting.
“What?” The woman adjusted her thick glasses. “Are you sure?”
“Yup, we have too much money.”
“Nice to be you, I guess.”
“Come on,” Mira tugged at him. He followed her away from the slot machines, toward the parking garage this time.
He dared to glance over his shoulder, and his heart jumped. From a hundred yards away, Stuart’s eyes met his and he smacked his buddy. “Fuck,” he whispered. “They saw us.” He sped up, Mira trotting next to him.
“Let me draw them away. You can keep going. Get the car.”
He didn’t know why that irritated him, but it did. This was the second or third time now, that she’d suggested they separate. Naveen cast her an incredulous look. “No. We’re in this together.” He grabbed her hand and walked even faster, dodging tourists and the elderly. He checked behind them again, and noticed the two men keeping pace.
They weren’t running, though, or pulling their guns. Of course not, for the same reason they hadn’t pursued the necklace through legal means. No leaks. They didn’t want to call attention to themselves.
An idea bloomed. It wasn’t a great idea, but it was all they had. He cast his gaze around until he found his target, then grabbed a frozen daiquiri in a tall plastic cup from where it had been abandoned next to a slot machine. “Follow my lead,” he muttered to Mira, then stopped by a woman in a red dinner jacket standing near a craps table. “Ma’am,” he said, and gave her his most winning smile. She smiled back. He tilted his head. “You see those two guys behind us? The one in the leather jacket, and the other one with the sling? We saw them acting kind of weird near the high-dollar slots. Like maybe they have something up their sleeves? The machine wouldn’t stop paying out for them, but the little lady and I tried the same machines and got nothing. You might want to check them out.”
Her eyes moved behind them and hardened. She spoke into her wrist. “Jack, I need backup. Thank you, sir. And what’s your name . . . sir? Sir!”
Mira twisted to see what was going on behind them as they power-walked away. “You think that’ll work?”
He tossed his drink into the closest trash can. “A casino won’t care if people are trying to kill each other, but they’ll definitely care if they’re being fleeced.”
She let out a breath. “You’re right. A guard stopped them.” She turned around and they sped up toward the parking garage, nearly running by the time they got to their car.
Once the lights of downtown had disappeared and they were on the highway, he stopped checking behind them consistently and marginally relaxed. “I think it worked. At the very least, it delayed them, thank God.”
“If nothing else, maybe we’ll have a chance to get to Sunil first.” Plastic ripped, and he glanced over to find Mira pulling one of the burner phones out of its packaging.
“Bless Emi and Steve Jobs,” he said fervently.
“No kidding.” Mira turned on the phone. “I’ll input the address for the strip club. I hope we can even get to Sunil. If he’s that reclusive these days, just talking to him will be the first challenge.”
“Fingers crossed.” He was doing a lot of that lately.
The GPS directed them for a couple minutes in the silence of the car. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
He gave her a sideways glance at how well-modulated her tone was. Her hands, though, they were tight fists in her lap. “Thank you. He’s a good man.”
“He sounds like it.”