The Survivor - Cristin Harber Page 0,58
way, too. The corners of her lips quirked. “It’s been quite the morning.”
Hagan managed to shower and dress before Amanda had blown out her hair. While she put the finishing touches of her outfit together, he mapped out where they would go from the list of items she needed to review.
They played baccarat and blackjack, then took a break near the cashier’s booth. She and Hagan split up before lunch, studying shift changes and the behavior patterns of dealers, bosses, and floor managers. They reconnected with mental lists of what might need a second glance. They weren’t on the premises to uncover the mechanics behind the crime. They only needed to spot areas that needed thorough mining for data. Intel forensics always led Amanda the right way.
After a quick meal of overstuffed pitas, they swung through the business hub of hotel operation. Amanda hadn’t seen anything unusual, and that in and of itself piqued her curiosity. That, and a peculiar feeling that someone was watching her.
Obviously, someone was watching her, and likely Hagan also. Even if their behavior hadn’t triggered a security system’s red flag, there were hundreds of cameras and sensors tracking everyone within the building. She’d get the specifics from Mr. Nasrallah once she and Halle had a good idea what they needed.
They played craps and roulette. Amanda couldn’t shake the shivers. But her stomach growled as well, and if she was ready for dinner, Hagan was starving.
Only slots remained on their list, and luckily, they wouldn’t have to play. There were too many variables with row after row of blinking, singing machines that promised quick payouts. The gaming commission would have specifications that she could reference when cross-checking for problems.
Amanda leaned into his side, tired and ready to take her shoes off. “I’m ready when you are.”
“You sure?”
She nodded and laced her fingers with his. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Always.” He snickered. “But you look like a bloodhound on a trail.”
Hagan had noticed her reaction, not the sense of a tail. She didn’t like the way that felt. What did it mean if this uneasy sensation that still needled her was wrong? She’d done nothing different except loosen the hold on the rules and contracts she lived by.
It’d be ridiculous to think that spending time with Hagan had dulled her abilities … right? Her hand pressed against the bottom of her throat. Rules allowed for her safety. They protected the ones she cared for—like Hagan. “I think I need to go to the room before dinner.”
“Amanda—” He caught her arm and pulled them from the busy flow of people. “You okay? You’re a little pale.”
“Low blood sugar.” Paranoia made her suspicious. She tried to focus on Hagan but couldn’t stop searching those who walked by. “I think I screwed up.”
“How?”
“I …” She shook her head, not knowing and terrified of losing control. “I just want to lie down for a few minutes.”
His jaw ticked, and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “No problem.”
Simply walking toward the elevators was a relief. She’d confide in Hagan upstairs. It wouldn’t be easy. Hell, it’d be embarrassing. But she’d made decisions that had repercussions, one of which meant she’d have to ask for help.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Hagan punched the elevator call button, then returned to Amanda’s side. He’d lost track of the afternoon while walking the slot machines. Their constant, calling whine and lights had given him a headache. Too many people milled through the corridors, like they were part of a never-ending churn.
An elevator on their far left arrived. But they’d wait for one going upstairs. Several casino guests got out, and all but two who’d been waiting took their place.
“I’m so tired.” Amanda snuggled her way under his arm.
Hagan held her close and kissed the top of her head. “We’ll order in.”
“Good plan.”
Their elevator arrived. The man to Hagan’s side walked in first, never glancing from his phone. The other man held out his hand, politely offering for Amanda to go ahead.
“Thanks,” she said.
The elevator bounced when he followed her in, reminding Hagan of how he’d jump right before an elevator would stop with his sister and brother. Their mother had sworn they’d break the cables. One day, they had jumped. The elevator had gotten stuck. They’d never done that again.
The other men didn’t look like they’d be jumpers. Amanda would be too tired to surprise him with a move like that. Still, apprehension shivered across his skin.
Amanda rolled her shoulders back and stood tall, glancing at the man with his