Free Nightwalker by Heather Graham Page A

young. And afraid. Hell, she was afraid. And she really hated that.
    “Who’s the hottie?” April Brandon, one of her fellow pirates, asked, grinning.
    “Pardon?”
    “Tall, dark and super cool,” April said, sliding into her own chair in front of the long mirror.
    “Oh, just a friend. No, not a friend. Not really.”
    “An enemy?” April teased.
    “No, no, I mean, I just met him.”
    “Oh. Well, if you decide not to be his friend, introduce him to me, huh?” April winked at her, pulling her plumed hat from her head.
    “You’ve got a boyfriend, remember?”
    “Maybe, but I’m not blind,” April said. She pulled off her earrings, then turned around suddenly to survey the room.
    Jessy felt as if a million goose bumps broke out over her body and asked, “What is it?”
    “Footsteps on my grave, I guess,” April said, shrugging. “Sorry. I just had this creepy feeling. Ice along the spine or something.”
    Jessy looked around, as well. She didn’t see anyone, but she felt uncomfortable even so. She had to get herself under control. How was she ever going to lead a normal life if she was suddenly afraid of invisible danger at every turn?
    April gave a shrug and reached for her makeup remover. “Anyway, friend to friend? I’d go after him if I were you, if only just for the sex. And I’ll be wanting details when you do.”
    Jessy groaned. “I prefer not to kiss and tell.”
    “He’s an Indian, isn’t he?”
    “The correct terminology these days is Native American.”
    April rolled her eyes. “I call you an Indian all the time. People think I’m crazy, cuz you’re so light.”
    “Timothy’s half Lakota,” Jessy said.
    “So there you go. You are an Indian. Sorry, Native American.”
    Jessy shed her boots and put them in the box under the table, then shimmied out of her pirate apparel, and quickly slid into her own sandals and knit sheath. “Gotta go,” she told April, giving her friend a pat on the shoulder.
    “Take Mr. Creepy with you, okay?”
    “What?” Jessy froze, turning around to stare at April.
    April laughed. “Just kidding. That feeling of being watched, you know?” She shuddered. “Maybe it’s because of the newspaper.”
    “The newspaper?”
    “The front page is all about that guy who was killed last night.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He worked for our boss, you know. Emil Landon, the guy who owns this place. So in a way, it was a coworker who was killed. He died right on top of some poor woman.” She looked more closely at Jessy and gasped. “What’s wrong? You’re white as a ghost. Hadn’t you heard about it?”
    “No, I knew about it.”
    “I’m sure it has nothing to do with us. It was probably someone he used to know before he took up the bodyguard business. Still, I guess none of us should go walking to our cars alone these days. Vegas has never been number one in the low-crime sweepstakes.”
    “No,” Jessy agreed.
    “You’re not walking to your car alone now, are you?” April asked her, concerned.
    “No, I’m meeting—I’m going to the Strip. You have someone to walk you to your car, right?”
    “I’m going to the Strip, too. Now get out of here. I’ll be right behind you!”
    Jessy left the dressing room, unnerved. As she closed the door behind her, she guiltily hoped she was shutting “Mr. Creepy” in with April. She hurried past the empty theater, anxious to get to the casino floor, where there would be bells, lights and lots of people.
     
    Dillon wondered if she was really going to show, or if she would find a way to avoid him.
    But it was almost exactly half an hour from the time she had left him that she walked through the front door of Chen’s.
    Vegas was filled with beautiful women. Most of them not only had killer bodies but glorious faces and legs that went on forever. And in this city, where a good showgirl was pretty much guaranteed a high-paying job, most of them came with enhanced breasts, as well.
    As he watched