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  Here and Gone

  Regan Harris Series, Volume 2

  Kelly Wood

  Published by Kelly Wood, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  HERE AND GONE

  First edition. January 31, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Kelly Wood.

  Written by Kelly Wood.

  Also by Kelly Wood

  Regan Harris Series

  Stay or Go

  Profit and Loss

  Here and Gone (Coming Soon)

  Watch for more at Kelly Wood’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Kelly Wood

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  To the Readers . . .

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  Further Reading: Stay or Go

  Also By Kelly Wood

  About the Author

  To my mother - pfffttt!

  To Uncle Jim and Aunt Gerry - Thank you for providing my second home as a kid. Uncle Jim, you've been my hero since you fixed my puzzle. Aunt Gerry, thank you for beliving in me and telling me you liked my writing even when it was rubbish. I love you all.

  Chapter One

  I didn’t see the person jump off of the building. I didn’t know if it was a man or a woman. I was minding my own business, sitting at a café table that overlooked the Bellagio Hotel water show and the newly remodeled Magari Hotel when I looked up and saw it. I watched the image get larger and larger, the shape constantly shifting as it fell through the air. I still wasn’t able to comprehend what I was seeing until the body hit the pavement between the Bellagio and the Magari and the screaming started. A chill ran up my spine.

  If you have ever seen someone hit the ground from a twenty-story fall, they splat. They splat hard. I turned away as the screaming started. Security rushed out of the hotels surrounding the area while barking orders into their walkie-talkies. I wondered how many of them could hear what the others were saying since they were all talking at once. Patrons around me stood up from their tables to watch the mess. I stayed seated. I had no desire to see the outcome, instead pretending that nothing had happened, but sending up a quick prayer for the person and their family. I didn’t know what to think about the jumper. Was it by choice or at the hands of someone else? Neither were good options.

  I scanned the crowd for my fiancé, easily spotting him in the crowd since he towered over everyone else. His head was turned toward the scene I was purposely avoiding. A dark cloud now hanging over our planned lunch date. I focused on him. Gray was handsome in a devil-may-care way. His hair was always a little too shaggy, curling around his ears. His standard outfit was a black t-shirt and old jeans. I eyed him now, appreciating the view. The muscles in his arms strained the fabric of the shirt. His faded jeans hugged his muscular legs. And I knew, when he turned around the tight fit would give me an excellent view of his dairy-air.

  After five years, one proposal, followed by one break-up, a make-up and another proposal, I was getting married! I found the excitement in it and focused on it, so I didn’t focus on the nerves. I knew I was making the right choice, but twenty-plus years of fearing marriage just didn’t go away.

  The wails from approaching ambulances and police cars snapped me out of my reverie. I followed Gray with my eyes as he worked his way around the crowd. I ran my hands through my hair and smacked my lips together to freshen my gloss. Just because I had snagged my man didn’t mean I couldn’t look good for him

  “Regan Harris,” Gray said as he reached the table, bending down to kiss my cheek. I raised my face toward him, feeling the flush of warmth as his lips touched me. I fluttered my hands nervously, smoothing my hair and then fiddling with the silverware on the table as he walked around the table to take his seat. I caught myself and forced my hands into my lap. I attributed today’s nervousness to the jumper. Watching the person fall sent a sense of foreboding down my spine. I realized I was very blasé about the event, but I had a shallow tendency not to get absorbed in things that did not directly affect me.

  “You’re using my full name now?” I asked with a smile before frowning and motioning toward the crowd. “I’m apparently cursed. I’m 28 and dead bodies are following me. You sure you want to marry me?”

  Gray angled his head toward the scene, taking in another look. Fire trucks and ambulances blocking the body. The lights flashing across the onlookers, the sirens now quiet.

  “I’ll still marry you.” Gray used his thumb to point over his shoulder before sitting down. “I don’t see how this could have anything to do with you. Sad as it is. Poor guy.”

  “It was a man?” I asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I just picked a gender. How are you today?” he asked.

  “I’m better than that guy,” I said as I pointed over my shoulder at the commotion. Another emergency vehicle arrived leaving the sirens on, adding to the noise and congestion. Gray raised one eyebrow at me but didn’t comment.

  “What? Too soon?” I raised my hands innocently. After five years of traveling together Gray knew my twisted sense of humor. Technically, we were homeless. Gray and I lived out of backpacks moving around wherever the urge sent us. We’d seen the world together and loved every minute of it.

  My home base was now a hotel room at the newly remodeled Magari Hotel. I shared a room with my younger sister, ‘Passion,’ an aspiring showgirl, while Gray stayed at his parents’ house. I secretly relished that I didn’t have to stay in his parents’ home. I liked his dad, but his mom was an acquired taste. Like turpentine.

  I gladly would’ve shared a room with Gray, but he was insisting on keeping some separation until the wedding. My mother loved him even more for it. Since birth, she’d been drilling it into us, “Marriage first, no living in sin.” Peyton, my fraternal twin sister, had followed that rule, making our mom proud.

  Rules? They’d never been for me. I was destined for a life of never meeting my mother’s standards but her loving me anyway.

  The waitress came our way, and I wanted to order a yard of margarita, a staple in Vegas for tourists walking around, the frozen beverages bringing relief from the heat of the desert. I held back and got a Caesar salad. Gray went with a burger. He almost always ate red meat because he said it was manly.

  “I got a job today,” I offered up.

  “That’s great. What are you doing?”

  “A small article on the remodel and reopening of
the Magari Hotel. I just found out this morning. I figured I had a leg up in landing the job since I’m staying there, but I’ll take it.”

  “Staying where? I thought your sister was at the Bellagio?” Gray asked.

  “Nope. Magari. Didn’t I tell you? It’s pretty nice now, but I guess it used to be a dump. Her room is pretty amazing. Anyway, the Magari was like the ugly sister constantly standing next to her bigger, better, prettier sister, the Bellagio. I’m going to head to the library later to do some local research on it for some... um, hello?” I stopped talking when I realized he wasn’t listening. Gray sat facing me, but his expression was a million miles away. I waved my hand in front of him to snap him back to this world.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay there. Why don’t you stay in the guest room at my parents’ house? There’s a desk in there, and you could start the novel you’ve talked about.”

  “We could stay in your parent’s hotel?” I prodded.

  “Nope. Nice try. I told you we don’t go there. It’s run by a management company. We are strictly hands-off owners.” Gray waved his hands in front of him.

  “What’s wrong with the hotel I’m in? We’ve stayed in much worse places. It’s fine. Anyway, I’m heading to the library after this,” I said. I instantly pushed the thought aside about staying with him. I just didn’t think I could handle his family morning, noon and night. I was a social butterfly at heart, but only when I wanted to be. Forced interaction with people I barely knew sounded terrible.

  The waitress interrupted us by delivering our lunches. I stared longingly at my salad wishing it would turn into steak. No such luck. I gave in and picked up my fork. I had put on some weight since I’d sprained my foot back in Chicago. I hadn’t been able to run since and could feel myself pushing maximum density. Having a curvy figure just meant I was five pounds away from chubby at any given moment.

  The Bellagio water show started up, and I turned to watch it. The other diners were torn between the water show and the emergency crews. In my opinion, this was the best part of Vegas. The show was beautiful and elegant in a city where gaudy prevailed.

  I thought back to the first time Gray brought me here. I had never been to Vegas before and had been excited. We’d arrived after dark and had driven down to the Strip immediately from the airport. I was on the edge of my seat trying to take it all in. I took so much in that I had a panic attack. All of the lights and sounds and people had overwhelmed my little brain until it forgot to breathe. I had to ask Gray to pull off the Strip before we had even made it halfway down. He brought me back the next day with the sun blaring, and the neon lights turned off so I could see everything. During the day, I didn’t find it as overwhelming as in its full glory after dark. In the full sun, the Strip looked sad to me... Like an aging, truck-stop stripper.

  “Regan, I don’t think you should be doing this job,” Gray said, picking up the conversation again. He put his fork on the plate and sat back in his chair. Even eating a cheeseburger and fries, Gray made it look classy. I never would’ve been caught dead with a fork. I would’ve been shoveling the fries in my mouth by twos.

  “I’ve done a hundred of these hotel write-ups, what’s the big deal?” I reached over to sneak a fry. Gray pushed his plate toward me, offering up all of them. It was his style. Always giving.

  Gray sat back and stared at me. I resisted the urge to look away while I nibbled my one fry. I wanted to make it last. His constant scrutiny was making me itchy.

  “Ok, I’m ready. Tell me whatever it is,” I said. Gray looked around him before leaning toward me to whisper.

  “The mob still runs Vegas.”

  I laughed.

  I relaxed my shoulders and took a deep breath, holding it in my lungs until it started to burn and the need for air pushed another laugh out.

  “Oh, come on, Gray, this is ridiculous. Like an Al Capone wannabe is here hiding out from the IRS?” Another giggle escaped me as I sat up straighter.

  “You can mock me, but it’s true. I can prove it.”

  “How?” Gray ignored the question.

  “Use your imagination, Regan. Maybe that guy was pushed off a balcony?”

  “Even if it’s true, what does it have to do with me?”

  “Hopefully, nothing. Tell you what, let me give you a special tour, and then I’ll take you to the library later.”

  “I like special. Done.”

  Chapter Two

  Gray and I entered the Magari through the front doors. The sounds of the casino instantly overwhelmed my senses. I’ll ever get used to the lights and sounds. Or the ceilings painted like a cloudy blue sky. I studied psychology for two semesters in college and was astounded to learn that I could’ve made a career in planning casinos with the knowledge. The amount of money that went into the décor was amazing. Every aspect of it, and furniture placement, chosen to affect the mood of a customer to want to stay longer and gamble more.

  The remodel of the main lobby and guests’ suites had been completed, but the grand opening for the ballrooms and shopping areas were scheduled for the next week. It was all very posh and metropolitan. I shared a room with my little sister here. She worked odd jobs in Vegas to make a living. Right now, she was working as a showgirl, taking pictures with tourists who walked through the lobby. Every time I saw her, I wanted to throw a blanket over her body. Dental floss would cover her better than her ‘uniform.’ I used the term ‘uniform’ loosely since I could see her fanny and hoo-ha rather clearly.

  Passion changed her name from Marie three years ago when she moved out here. Peyton and I swore that she was the mailman’s baby. Peyton and I were complete opposites, but Passion was out of this world. She was our hippity-dippity sister. She had the mind of a saint and the body of a sinner. I wanted to feed her a sandwich whenever I saw her. Nobody should be that tall and thin and statuesque. I’d hate her if I didn’t love her so much.

  Gray and I continued through the chaos of the casino. Even during the day, there were a respectable number of gamblers here. With the remodel, the crowds had been drawn in. Everyone wanted to check out the new look.

  I wanted to lean against a wall and take a break. Walking through a casino was hard work, especially with a healing foot. The doctor had warned me it would take forever to heal, but I hadn’t believed him. Since the injury, I was supposed to ‘take it easy’ and ice it as much as possible, but that wasn’t really my style. I could feel my butt getting wider because I wasn’t able to run to work off the junk food I preferred.

  I spotted Passion smiling and talking to some customers. I waved and slowed down to look around the casino. Frank Donato owned the Magari. He was a popular figure in the hotel, known for walking the casino floor and greeting people personally while his entourage followed behind. Frank would grace those he touched with free gambling chips, free five-star meals, and tickets to shows in his theater. Everyone who stayed here knew who Frank was and hoped for a chance to meet the man in person. I had never seen him up close or spoken to him, but I had witnessed the moment of awed silence when he walked through the casino this morning. Frank lived and worked on the top floor of the hotel, giving him the opportunity to keep a close eye on it and everyone in it. Gray tugged on my hand to get me moving again.

  “Where exactly are we going?” I asked Gray.

  “Watch and learn, woman.”

  “I think that seems unlikely,” I said but continued to follow him.

  “Have you started to wonder yet why everyone calls Frank ‘Dickweed’?”

  “No, since I didn’t know that was his nickname. My guess? Doesn’t every employee talk a little smack about their boss?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Gray conceded, “but that’s not the reason.” A hotel security guard and a man in a suit exited the elevator as we walked up. Gray bumped the man as he put his arm out to hold the elevator doors open for me.

  “It’s his mob name,” Gray whispered in my ear as the doors closed with barely a sound.

&n
bsp; “Oh, please, that is the most ridiculous mob name I have ever heard.” I rolled my eyes at myself in the mirrored ceiling. Gray studied the floor selection buttons before pushing one on the bottom that wasn’t marked.

  Nothing happened.

  He pulled a white card out of his pocket that looked similar to the room key I had, but this one didn’t seem to have any markings on it. My room key had the hotel logo on one side and a black swipe on the other. Gray stuck it in a slot below the unmarked button and then pushed the button again. A green light came on next to the card. Gray pulled it out but kept it in his hand. The elevator started to rise in response.

  “What was that and where did you get it?” I pointed at the card.

  “A security card and I pinched it off of the guy when I bumped into him.”

  Gray’s grin reminded me of a wolf about to pounce as he backed me into the corner. I couldn’t help but smile to cover the fluttering of my heart. He could always make it race.

  “You ‘pinched’ it? How very bad guy of you.” I looked away and giggled nervously. I felt trapped backed up against the elevator wall, but I didn’t want to push him away. I wanted to throw myself at him. Now just wasn’t the time.

  “Do you like that?” My lips tingled from the quick peck he planted.

  “Your overconfidence isn’t going to leave much room in here for us,” I said.

  “Don’t go changing the subject.” He pressed his body against mine. The heat from his body warmed me while the coolness of the elevator wall helped keep me focused. Until his lips touched mine again. I lost all thought and control. I threw my body against his and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  The elevator dinged, and the door opened. Gray broke the kiss, planted one more quick peck and then moved away from me. I brought my hand up to fan my face before exiting, heat from the kiss making my cheeks pink.

  The elevator opened to a small room with a desk and waiting area. The room was well-appointed with an oriental rug and muted artwork on the walls. Two doorways led to other spaces. One was closed, but the double doors stood slightly ajar. The desk was a beautiful walnut and looked more like a showpiece than an actual functioning desk. The whole room felt like a magazine shoot set-up. I expected a photographer to come in any minute and start snapping shots of the office.