Chapter 8

"Ashley, you're up." Gatsby said through the walkie-talkie. Ashley's hair was in a French bun and she was wearing glasses.

"Got him," Ashley replied as she walked beside Doyle. "Mr. Doyle." Ian looked at her as he continued walking. "Hi, Susan Chester, Nevada Gaming Commission. I'm afraid I need a couple minutes of your time." Doyle looked at her and smirked.

"Anything for the NGC," he replied.

"Thank you, will you accompany to pit five, please?" As they walked to their destination, Emily was walking toward the restaurant. Unknown to her a pair of hazel eyes watched and followed her. And unknown to him, two huge men were following him.

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"When do you make the deposit?" Gatsby asked Shawn and Eliot.

"When we get your signal," Eliot replied.

"What do we look like a couple of idiots?" Shawn asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Gatsby replied.

She was talking about "she-who-would-not-be-named." That quickly shut Shawn up as Parker began to get into the casino cage and Gatsby handed her an oxygen tank.

"Parker, how does it feel? You alright? You want something to read? A magazine?"

Parker gave Gatsby the finger and Gatsby looked taken aback and sighed.

"You don't have to be so mean," she told her. "Alright," she said aloud. "Counting down. Thirty minutes of breathing time starts now." Gatsby quickly closed the lid to the casino cage.

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"This just came to our attention this morning, Mr. Doyle," Ashley told Doyle as they watched the casino hands bring Derek over. "Apparently, he's got a record longer than my…well, it's long." Doyle sighed and opened his black case as a test for Ashley, which she failed when she looked into it. Doyle smirked.

"If he is who you say he is," he replied as he looked at Ashley who looked away. "You've been at the commission long?"

"About 18 months."

"You know Hal Lindley? Worked with him at all?" he looked at Ashley with curiosity. This would be the ultimate test.

"Not since he died last year," she said solemnly, which put Ian at ease as Derek and the casino hands walked up to them.

"Carl Buford? Susan Chester, Nevada Gaming Commission." She flashed a badge.

"What's going on here?" Carl asked, confusedly.

"It has come to our attention that…"Ashley abruptly stopped when Doyle started to speak.

"I think it would be better if we speak off the floor." He then led them away to a private conference room as Shawn and Eliot stepped out of the elevator in security outfits with the casino cage.

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Spencer walked into the restaurant like a man on a mission just as Emily was about to be seated. When she looked at him, she quickly got up and marched toward him.

"Spencer, no; I want you out of here."

"Would you just give me a moment?" he asked desperately. She wasn't listening to him.

"I've had it! I want you gone!"

"Emily, come here," he pulled her into a secluded place.

"You're up to something, Spencer, what? And don't say you came here for me. You're pulling a job, aren't you? Well, know this: no matter what it is, you won't win me back." She finally stopped speaking.

"Emily, I just came to say goodbye." Emily bristled at the comment as she didn't think he would say that.

"Goodbye," she whispered to him, a bit sadly. Spencer hesitantly kissed her on the cheek; a nervous, sloppy kiss which would always remind them of their younger years, their college years.

"You be good," he told her sadly as he walked out of the restaurant. It took Emily a few seconds to regain her composure and she sat back down at her seat.

Spencer found his exit blocked by the two huge men that were following him.

"Dr. Reid," one said.

"Mr. Doyle wishes to see you," the other said.

"I thought he might," Spencer said with a small smirk.