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Thinking for a moment of the money that could be made by Las Vegas wedding chapels that sold photos of celebrities making very bad marital choices, Hank laughed. “Uh-huh. Wedding chapels must make excellent pickings for…burglars.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Whatever the reason you use the camera, I need to see the tape.”
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, actually, it does. You see, this is my chapel and here, I am the king.”
“No pun intended.”
“Of course not. Now, why do you want it?”
Hank sat back. His seat sat lower than Armstrong's, allowing the two men's eyes to be at the same level. Neither's gaze wavered. Taking in the other man's placid, wrinkle-free forehead, Hank realized he had no power here. He couldn't demand the tape or threaten him with jail. Shit, he was lucky Armstrong was even talking to him. Gut churning, he did what no cop liked to do, he told a civilian about his case.
Except for a few raised eyebrows, Armstrong's face showed no reaction to Hank's tale. “So you’re acting knight to the breathtaking senorita’s damsel in distress? How very noble of you.” He paused for a moment. “Why?”
The vein in Hank's temple began to throb. Like everything else that involved Beth, the process of gaining the video evidence wasn't going to be easy. “Because in Nebraska, that's how we're raised.”
“Bollocks.” He slapped his hand down on the desk. “Tell me the real reason.”
Heat rushed up Hank's back and his muscles tensed. This was going all wrong. “What do you care?”
“I am passionate about two things in life: Elvis and love.” He spread his arms wide to encompass the room. “The Elvis I have. The love, unfortunately, I do not. It's not my stature that seems as off-putting to the ladies of Las Vegas. Strangely enough, it's my devotion to Elvis Presley. Sadly, I will not give up one for the other. So, I satisfy my passion for romance by helping others achieve it. I saw the way you two kissed last night. There is no doubt in my mind that you two should be married, and I'd like to be the one to officiate at the event.”
Armstrong's mouth kept moving but all Hank could hear was a loud buzzing, as if bees had dive bombed both ears.
Of course, he’d happily walk down that path again with Beth. Unfortunately, she had made her views perfectly clear this morning about moving from flirtation to a relationship. Still, his stomach vibrated and not with an about-to-lose-lunch way but with an at-the-top-of-the-roller-coaster-about-to-speed-down kind of excited anticipation.
“Sheriff, you've gone a bit green around the gills.”
“She's my little sister's best friend. That's all.”
“Mmm-hmmm. So then, there's no harm in giving me your word that the wedding will be here if you two were to ever get betrothed, since, of course, it will never happen?”
Sweat slicked the inside of Hank's palms. It was fourth down, time for the former big college quarterback to turn on his game face. Hank smiled, but made sure the grin didn't reach his eyes. “Sure, of course. How could I not share that moment with the man who was kind enough to share his surveillance tape?”
Armstrong's upper lip curled in a perfect copy of Elvis' rock-n-roll snarl. He tapped his fingers on the desk and gave Hank a considering look. His narrow shoulders shrugged and he pushed away from his desk before stepping down from his chair.
“Follow me, Sheriff.” Little Elvis started humming, I Can't Help Falling In Love With You, as he strolled to one of the white bookshelves. A click sounded when he pushed one of the books forward and two shelves swung open to reveal a flat-screen TV, a tall stack of DVDs and a DVD player.
“I'll be damned,” Hank muttered.
Armstrong pulled out the one on top of the pile and popped it into the DVD player. A menu appeared on the screen. Pointing a remote at the player, he clicked on Scene Selection and selected a black-and-white photo of Hank and Beth.
“The camera is connected to a motion sensor that detects when someone comes into the lobby. It whirs into action and records as long as the lobby is occupied. When there's no movement for five minutes, it turns off until the next time.”
“You're full of surprises aren't you?”
Pride gleamed in Armstrong's eyes. “Yes, appearances can be deceiving.”
They turned their attention to the screen. Hank came through the door first, followed by a weaving Beth. He watched himself scope out the lobby. When he saw Beth rub his cock through his pants, it was as if he could feel her long fingers wrapped around him and his dick twitched to life. Damn. This wasn’t the place and definitely not the person he wanted to watch this with. He snatched the remote from Armstrong's stubby fingers and hit fast-forward, ignoring the man's chuckle.
He hit pause when the two thugs appeared on the screen. “You got zoom on this thing?”
Armstrong held out his small hand. “The remote, if you don't mind?”
Hank handed it over without looking away from the screen. The men's faces became larger on the TV. He searched for something familiar about the two men. Nothing. He'd never seen them before, but Beth may have.
“Can you burn me a copy?”
