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Jane let out a soft chuckle. “You mean the vast dating pool in a town of three thousand? You are aware the average age in Redemption Creek is a hundred and fifty, right?”
He forced a grin. “I don’t know, those cowboys can be charming.”
“The only men charming me lately are the Jensen brothers. They’re eighty-one and eighty-two. They think it’ll get them a deal on new irrigation equipment,” Jane said.
He concentrated on not letting his relief show. No dating. That was good.
She gave him a sideways glance he couldn’t read. “What about you? Any ladies catching the eye of the infamous Captain North these days?”
He shook his head. “Nah, been kinda busy with, you know, trying to take down secret global conspiracies and all that.”
Jane smiled. “Maybe when this is all over, we’ll have time for real lives again.”
“Maybe.”
Not that his life had ever been normal. He wondered if that day would ever come. And if it did, whether he’d have the courage to reach for that life—and that woman—beside him.
Because right now he didn’t…have the courage, that is. They were still an hour from Vegas. If he didn’t have the courage to let her know he was interested, when would he?”
He blew out a breath, opened his mouth, and reached for the dial on the radio, tuning in a country station.
Not today.
16
Though the doorsto the Desert Palms Theater were tightly closed during the Amazing Romero’s show, the cacophony of sound from the casino outside bled through. Slot machines clanged as coins poured into metal trays overriding the lively chatter of excited patrons. Even the strains of a bad cover band from the bar at the far side of the vast casino floor seeped in. Bridger found the fake party atmosphere grating. And plenty annoying. He shifted in his seat in the two-person booth. Between the darkened showroom and the background noise, he’d never hear an attacker coming.
“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! And now, for my final act...” boomed a deep voice, resonating throughout the room. The Amazing Romero, a tall and imposing middle-aged Black man with salt-and-pepper hair. His commanding presence demanded attention as he raised his arms, the spotlight casting dramatic shadows across his strong features.
“Where does he hide those doves?” Jane whispered, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Probably up his sleeve or something,” Bridger muttered, scanning the crowd as the magician continued his act. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched.
“Always the skeptic,” Jane teased, nudging him playfully.
A smirk tugged at the corner of Bridger’s mouth, despite the tension that knotted his stomach. “Alright, maybe it is kind of impressive,” he conceded.
The music rose to a crescendo. The magician held up a sliver of white paper and a match. An instant later, the paper blazed into a flame that quickly died, leaving the magician holding a white dove. The crowd roared.
Romero bowed to thunderous applause.
Bridger couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of connection to the performer. Both of them were masters of deception, skilled in the art of misdirection. But while Romero used his talents to entertain, Bridger had honed his skills in far more sinister arenas. He’d never considered that a stage magician might be excellent cover for a former operative. No wonder Pegs thought the world of this man.
“How are we going to approach him?” Jane asked, raising her voice to be heard over the clapping.
“That was his last show for the night. Pegs told the guy we’re here. He’ll find us.”
The applause died as the curtain closed. Bridger’s shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the tension in his muscles easing as the house lights brightened.
All around them, people gathered their things and made their way to the exits. He motioned for Jane to stay in her seat. “Let’s wait until the aisles are clear.”
“Here we are, folks!” A cheerful waiter approached their table with a tray of drinks balanced effortlessly in one hand.
Bridger tensed, slipping his hand inside his jacket to touch the butt of his gun. “We didn’t order anything.”
“Compliments of The Amazing Romero,” the man replied with a grin, setting the tray down anyway before walking away.
Bridger exchanged a wary glance with Jane before picking up a napkin from the tray. On its underside, a handwritten note read: MEET ME BACKSTAGE.
