Dead Man's Hand (8 page)

“
I know you better than anyone, Linda
,
and
you have to admit
that deep down you love this
. But we
’
ll be together soon.
”

“
I
’
ll do it for you.
”

“
No, you
’
ll do it for
you
and
that
’
s why I love you. Go have a shower
and
I hope you think of me when you do.
”

“
I
’
ve already started.
”

Chapter 7

Doug Grant
was
mentally and emotionally drained.

That little slut Linda.

H
e had to admit that it felt right to think of her that way
. She
thought he was fooled. But he didn
’
t get to run the second
-
largest
,
highest
-
earning casino in town, or deal with the mob, or deal with the new Vegas
as
a
Disney World and retirement theme
park by being stupid or rigid. He did fall for her, but at the back of his mind
,
he had no illusions about the nature of his appeal to a woman like her.

Divorced for almost fifteen years, he
’
d met Linda when he decided to upgrade the
c
asino
e
ntertainment. Linda had been one of the dancers.

They
’
d been married for six years, with no children. He was too old and Linda had never shown any interest in being a mother. Linda was always too concerned about keeping her dancer body trim and fit. Doug
’
s fatherly love remained focused on Shawn and his other child, Shawn
’
s younger sister, Melanie.

The shock and unexp
ectedness of Linda
’
s infidelity
had
almost caused a heart attack.
He
’
d never been the same
since.

Shawn was almost
ready.
Doug had been training his son and showing him the ropes for the last fifteen years.
As
the Vice
P
resident of Operations
,
he
had the respect and loyalty of the key staff at the casino. He was all business, but fair and hands-on without being a micromanager. Shawn was smart and could be ruthless.
Retirement was near and he
’
d turn almost everything over to him.
Sh
awn would be a great CEO. Doug c
ould
c
hair the
b
oard, with veto power over only a few essential matters. That suit
ed
him fine.

Shawn would receive an additional thirty-six percent of voting stock
,
giving him
fifty-six
percent majority ownership and voting control of the company.

Melanie would not feel slighted. Doug
’
s only daughter was in med school
and headed for a career as a top surgeon.
Non-
voting shares plus
a stock a
nd cash inheritance would almost
equal Doug
’
s bequest in value, so neither child would feel that the other was favored.

The remaining
twenty-four
percent of non-voting shares were divided in half between his ex-wife Beth and Linda. He didn
’
t want to give Linda a dime, but as his wife she was contractually privileged, even if she ha
d
been
“
stepping out
.
”
That was more than enough for two women who, he had to admit, had never interested him as much as his business did. What was wrong with him? Too late for that. Making the best arrangements and having easy years seemed like the best he could expect.

Because his ex-wives both had nonvoting shares, Shawn in the end would have
one-hundred percent
voting control, with certain decisions that would have to be approved by Doug, for as long as he was chairman.
He still hadn
’
t told Shawn that yet.

Linda was about to lose her entire part-owner share of
t
he
Greek stock, because Doug was meeting with his attorney to discuss the processing, filing and serving of the divorce papers. It was her own fault, because Linda had known from the time she signed the prenup that divorce would lead immediately to that loss of ownership. However, she
’
d found that
“
car salesman,
”
Ace Sanders, more attractive and important than all the love and everything else that Doug had given her.

He should have acted sooner, but filing for div
orce required too much energy.
Now, he was forcing himself, tired as he was, to finalize the divorce, get it over with
and
get his life and emotions in order again.

He slumped deeper in his chair. He was done for the night. He
’
d already spent too much time thinking about his personal problems.

There was a rap on the door.

“
Mr. Grant, have you signed off on those papers?
”

He
looked up to find one of his night-shift
p
it
b
osses
standing just outside the door.

“
Darryl, come in.
”

The casino employee entered
and D
oug handed him the papers.

Doug walked toward the big office window that looked down on the casino main floor.

“
How does it look tonight?
”
h
e asked.

“
Philip called in sick
,
s
o I moved Joey to
t
able
g
ames
s
upervisor and Nancy is the
s
tickman tonight.
”

Doug nodded but didn
’
t speak.

“
Is everything al
l
right, boss?
”

He
sighed.
“
I watched my father build this building with his own hands. It has grown from
a small, nickel and dime outfit
to what it was now, an operation that generates hundreds of millions of dollars annually
and i
s still growing. I just don
’
t know how much I have left.
”

He saw the employee
’
s reflection in the window, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

“
What
can
I
do?
”

He
turned around and smiled at his employee. He wasn
’
t going to burden this young man with his troubles.

“
I
’
m done for the night, Darryl.
”

“
Yes, sir.
”

He
said his goodbyes on his way out of his casino as he did every night, making sure every employee at
t
he Greek felt appreciated. He gave Shawn last
-
minute instructions
.

“
Have you thought anymore about our expansion idea?
”
Shawn asked.

Doug nodded.
“
I
’
m going to look at some prope
rties tomorrow. See you in the morning
.
”

“
Bye, Dad.
”

He left the casino thinking about his appointment with the lawyer
tomorrow afternoon.

There was an outside chance that Linda knew he was playing her, but it was all about the money—even if she knew. She
’
d be on the way out of his life by nightfall tomorrow
.

Ace Sanders sat in his trademark black Ferrari outside
t
he Greek Casino
, a few blocks from his destination. He
couldn
’
t believe the long hours that
the sixty-three-year-old
Grant still put in a
t work
. Everyone knew
t
he
man
was a grind
.

N
ot a
big
-
picture guy like me.

Ace
let his staff do the dirty work. Everyone reported to him daily at
eleven
and
unless there were problems or decisions that needed his direct involvement
,
their reports were enough.
He
’
d always paid well to recruit top casino executives and for years had left the management of his casinos up to them.

Once
done with details
, Ace
spent the rest of the day roaming the floors of both casinos, talking to the high
rollers
and
charming them into bringing in new, rich customers.
He loved the games, the women
and the house
’
s guaranteed wins.

Ace
watched the front of the casino.
No movement.

As he waited, he
shuffled a deck of card
s and dealt four poker hands
. He dealt the last card and set the remaining cards on the passenger seat between the hands. He picked up his five cards and smiled.

Three queens.

H
e checked the other dealt hands.
“
This
really
isn
’
t your night,
Doug
las
,
”
h
e muttered.

He
opened the glove compart
ment
and
pulled out the weapon
, a smooth
,
seven-inch
,
high-carbon hunting knife, a beautiful
,
shining tool that left almost no evidence at the scene, except for whatever the police could learn from knife wounds. They might figure out the kind of knife that had been used and the cuts would tell them a bit about who used it, but he was sure that nothing would tie him to this.
He
’
d bought the knife from a famous German knife maker
who had personally made it for him
, so
it
would never be trac
ed
.

He was about to exchange two cards when
he
saw
his target
exit
the building.
Ace checked his watch. It was after ten. Grant was a classic creature of habit, someone who
deserved
to fall behind as times changed.

Grant waited as the valet retrieved his car
,
then
hopped in and moved into traffic.

Ace
waited a moment before turning on his head
lights
and
follow
ing
Grant
’
s
vintage
Jaguar.
He
remained a good distance behind
—
he a
lready knew the route the man
would take home.

The two cars turned off the main road with
out
another car in sight. There we
re no streetlights, but he
could se
e
Grant
’
s Jag approaching a
vacated strip mall that had been closed down for years.

Ah, t
he perfect spot.

A deep thrill climbed Ace
’
s body.

Doug had just turned on
to the back road, less than
fifteen
miles from his place, when he noticed the ca
r behind him
. It moved quickly, light
s
flashing.

What now? A cop?

He
shook his head but
pulled the Jaguar
into the deserted parking lot of an abandoned strip mall
.

A
Ferrari pull
ed
beside him
on the right side
.

Shit. Ace Sanders.