Rebecca stood by the service area next to the bar, growing antsy. The key dug into her palm, a reassurance she hadn't dropped it while delivering drinks and an urgent reminder she had to try it in that office door the first chance she got. It had either been too busy or too quiet and she needed to be sure no one spotted her leaving the area. Especially not Gianni. She didn't trust him. Or Steve, who she was trusting more as the night wore on. He was out of his element like a fish on a racetrack. She kept a close eye on the game where a fresh hand was about to be dealt. That would be her cue. The last thing she wanted to do was steal into Yushenko's office right when he decided to call for a break.
The dealer was about to turn over the first card in the flop when Lachlan lurched forward. He caught himself by bracing his hand on the leather table edge and bolted upright, his blue eyes blinking rapidly. Rebecca watched him heave himself up onto his feet. All the other players froze. They stared in horror as he staggered and lurched around the gaming table and up the steps to the landing. Perfect. And where was anyone to help him all of a sudden?
All the onlookers loitering near the stairs on the upper level parted for Lachlan, moving just far enough out of the way that he wouldn't be able to collapse onto them. These people sure weren't the kind to catch you when you fell, Rebecca thought. She kept her distance too as she trailed up after him, worried. He zigzagged between the tables, but fortunately he didn't knock anything over or collapse and begin vomiting. He hadn't seemed at all drunk when she'd last served him. And then she remembered that oddness with his India Pale Ale.
She scanned the lounge for any sign of Lachlan's girlfriend or the other blonde accompanying them. So many of those rich preppie girls looked the same. A member of Burkhard's entourage pushed Lachlan upright as he was about to topple, sending him stumbling toward the hallway next to the bar. Shit; he was heading straight for where Robbie and Eddie were hiding. She bolted after him and caught him as he reeled backwards. Gianni rushed up to them and helped her drag him to a leather lounge seat next to the railing while Lachlan's sister brought a chair over to prop his feet on.
Yushenko set his cards face down and hurried up to them. "I will send doctor to his suite."
Panic spiked in Rebecca. Apart from her and the bartender, all his staff in the lounge were disabled. Lachlan's teary-eyed girlfriend crouched next to him as Rebecca stood. A giant in a Zegna suit loomed over them. The kneeling brunette in twinset and pearls said, "Daddy, help him – I don't want anyone else laying a hand on him."
"We'll get our own doctor to take care of him, Princess." He shot a dirty look at Yushenko, stooped, and cradled Lachlan in his arms. Everyone – even Yushenko – watched, stunned, while the man pushed his way past the bar and out through the red velvet drapes, carrying Lachlan like a rescued damsel in distress.
"That was surreal," a youngish male voice said, echoing Rebecca's own thoughts aloud.
"I must talk to them." Yushenko trotted up to the bar. He waited for Gianni to come up to him and said, "I need landline phone."
Gianni set a phone on the counter and untangled the coiled wire on the handset for him.
Seeing her chance to sneak away, Rebecca dashed up the hall. No one paid any attention to her as she slipped and around the corner to the last door on her left. The key she'd swiped from the bar went in and the lock tumbled. Phew! Safely inside Yushenko's office, she stared around at the wood shelves and panelling, looking for anything resembling a safe.
One wall was taken up by glass overlooking the strip. Another had doors leading off to a closet and to a restroom. No room between them for a false wall. She checked behind every painting and framed certificate hanging on the remaining two walls. Nothing. The closet held only coats and a couple of bankers boxes housing spare computer parts. Circumnavigating the entire room, she tapped on the wainscoting and on the flock wallpaper above. Nothing sounded hollow enough to house a hidden compartment. She got down on her hands and knees. Nothing under his giant walnut desk apart from a dusty power bar and half a dozen cables.
At the sound of keys jingling, she ducked into the closet. She concealed herself with a long black trench coat. It reeked of stale cigar smoke and expensive men's cologne. Her heart raced like a jackrabbit as she held her breath in and listened. Through a crack, she watched Yushenko amble in and check some envelopes on his desk. What the hell is he doing in here? He peeked inside the top envelope, nodded, and headed back out. The lock shunted.
As soon as his footsteps had faded outside, she crept out of the stuffy closet. She opened the office door and peeked out into the hallway. He was gone. Those envelopes on his desk. Before being interrupted, she'd planned to investigate around there anyway. They obviously contained something important.
The topmost one was thick, white and plain. Taking care not to bend any corners, she slid out the bundle of papers it contained. That sneaky bastard. Already he'd moved the cash into an offshore account, opened under some numbered company. Yet with only an account number and a password, anyone could access it. She hadn't been privy to the details, but no one had mentioned this to her. She'd been expecting cash, millions in cash. Beneath the transaction statements were some high-denomination Eurobonds. For all she knew they were counterfeit – in her current state she couldn't remember whether there actually was such a thing – but she'd take them anyway. She snatched a roll of scotch tape from the desk, tore off half a dozen strips, and hiked up her dress.
A rumbling like faraway thunder rumbled above Rebecca's head. She froze solid, bent over, a strip of tape curling away from her finger. She eyed the ceiling above a bookshelf as the shield for the ventilation popped open. It disappeared up inside the shaft. An upside down face poked out and she held her hand to her chest to contain her pounding heart. She blew out a deep breath – she should have figured it was him.
"Jimmy – what are you doing here?" she hissed, dragging a chair over for him. With an eight foot drop she wasn't sure how the hell he'd get down from there, but she supposed a chair was better than nothing.
He stayed put and said in a raspy voice, "Change of plans. Henry radioed me, saying hotel security found their HVAC system has been tampered with and they want to find the source before evacuating. There might real be cops coming any minute."
"Fuck me," she said.
"They're trying to see if they can intercept the phone li–"
"Get back up!" she mouthed, waving both arms at him as unfamiliar voices echoed in the hallway outside.
Jimmy vanished back up in the air vent. Rebecca gawked around the office, trying to think of an excuse for being in here.