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Authors: Adrienne Giordano

Deadly Odds (12 page)

BOOK: Deadly Odds
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“Yeah. Plainclothes. And the pit is up to speed.”

“I’ll go down with you,” Ross said. “Time for a walk-through.”

She glanced back at him. “Do your glad-handing thing and schmooze him. Get us a name.”

Just as Kate slid into the vacant seat at mini-bac, Ross entered the pit, stopping to confer with a couple of supervisors. Two minutes later, he sidled up to the table, smiled that wicked GQ smile of his. Kate was immediately entranced. The man knew exactly how to disarm people. Quick flashing grin, a pat on the back, a light touch on the arm. Male or female, he knew all the buttons to push.

Something she’d be wise to remember.

Their target sat in the last seat at the table and Ross edged in next to him, engaging him in light conversation.

If this man were a cheat and a casino executive had sidled up to him, he’d be showing signs of distress. Some sort of discomfort. But…nothing.

If he’s a cheat, he’s a master.

Kate placed her chips on the table, opting to bet for the player’s hand. The suspected cheat did the same. The dealer—the banker in mini-bac—dealt two sets of cards, one set for the banker, one for the players and flipped them.

Natural nine for the player. Good news considering she’d bet on the player’s hand and the object of the game was to get closer to nine than the dealer.

Player’s win.

All payouts were made and Kate met Ross’s eye. Yep, she’d won. So did their suspected cheat.

And nothing about his body language suggested anything criminal.

“Congratulations,” Ross extended his hand. “It kills me to say that since I’m a vice president here at Fortuna. Ross Cooper.”

Their target stacked his chips, a smug smirk on his face all the while.

Come on, come on.
They needed a name.

The man looked at Ross’s outstretched hand and met his gaze.
Come on, come on
.

For five solid seconds, the man stared at Ross’s hand, obviously hoping he would give up.

Oh, something was way off with this guy.

Unfortunately for him, Ross Cooper never gave in. Realizing the slick-suited executive wasn’t leaving, the man shook his hand. “Earl Wicker.”

“First time here, Mr. Wicker?”

“This week. Yeah.”

Mr. Wicker placed his bet and Kate did the same.

“Well,” Ross said gesturing to the fat stack of chips, “you should get a player card. Let us buy you dinner.”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Ross nodded. “Suit yourself. And good luck to you.” He looked up, took in the table. “To all of you. Thanks for coming in today.”

Then he met Kate’s eye, gave the dealer a quick nod and moved off.

No player card for Mr. Wicker, but they had a name.

And sometimes, that’s all that was needed.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, after stopping at her temporary office to put out some feelers on Earl Wicker, Kate entered the surveillance room and found Don still manning the wall monitors.

“Whatcha got?” he asked.

“I made some calls. Waiting to hear back. Did you run his name?”

“Yeah. He lives out east. I reached out to a few Atlantic City casinos. We’ll see.”

“I’ll work my contacts there also. See if I can find anything. Tomorrow, I’ll meet with some of the dealers for a refresher on hand mucking. I didn’t see him doing anything suspicious, but it wouldn’t hurt to put the dealers on a higher alert.”

“Good. That’s good.” Don ran his hand over his bald head.

At his age, with his extra weight and blood pressure issues, the man was a prime candidate for a heart attack. Kate stood and gestured him to the doorway. He followed her and, assuming she wanted a private chat, huddled close. “What’s up?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way and it’s none of my business, but you started it yesterday by talking about your health issues. Are you—”

“Ah, Christ.”

“This is a lot of stress. Frankly, you worry me.”

His lips quirked. “I told you I was irresistible. Keep this up and you’ll be wife number four.”

Behind her, the door flew open and Ross stepped in. “I’m gone ten minutes and you’re proposing?”

“I’m old, but I’m virile.”

Kate rolled her eyes.

“For the record,” Ross said, “when she hits us with a sexual harassment suit, I want it known that I came into this conversation late and was not a party to it.”

She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you out of it.”

“Excellent.” He waved a hand. “This Wicker guy. If he’s scamming us, he’s got ice in his veins.”

“I agree,” Kate said, “but something is up with him. I’ll go frame by frame on the video if I have to.”

Ross held up a room key. “Got you a suite. Unless you want someone to take you home.”

As tired as she was, the idea of another car ride to Vegas, only to have to turn around and come back in the morning, made her head pound. Total exhaustion. “It’s late and I have my overnight bag. If it’s not a problem, I’ll stay here tonight and start fresh tomorrow. After that, I’ll access the system from home in the evenings.”

Ross grabbed her overnight bag from where she’d set it by the door earlier. As if she couldn’t wheel her own bag. “I can take that.”

“I know you can.”

Which didn’t stop him from opening the door for her and waving her through.

“Ah, shit,” Don said.

The door shut before she could question the remark and she turned to Ross. “What’s that about?”

“What?”

She laughed. “Oh, my God. Please. You know what.”

He shrugged. “He’s concerned.”

“About?”

“Me walking you to your room.”

Oh, these two. How they underestimated her. “He thinks I’ll fall victim to your limitless charm?”

“It’s been known to happen.”

“And you’re proud of that?”

“Nope. Stating fact. Denying it to a woman who’s done her research will only make me look like an ass.”

Kate stopped at the elevator and faced him. Maybe he hadn’t underestimated her after all. She wagged a finger. “Now you’ve done it. Stunned me to the point where I don’t know what to say.”

“Hey, I’m just walking you to your door, where I will say goodnight and then go crash in my office.”

“My guess is the hotel could give you a room.”

“They could, but I don’t like doing that. For other people it’s not a problem. For me? No. That’s abusing my power and I’m not going there.”

Now that was something. A lot of men in his position would abuse the power just so his employees knew he could. Simply to feed his ego and let the minions know who was in charge.

Ross Cooper, ego or not, apparently didn’t need such tactics.

They rode the elevator to her floor and Ross pointed left. At her door, he handed over the key. “This is your stop.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Just so you know, Don is probably zoomed in on us from the surveillance room. My phone will ring any time now.”

Kate scanned the ceiling but didn’t see any cameras.

“They’re hidden. But they’re there.”

“You two are funny. I’m going to sleep. And you can tell Don you didn’t come on to me.”

“Sadly, yes.”

“Poor baby.”

“I know. It’s awful.” On cue, his phone rang. “Ha!” A hint of smug laced his grin and he handed her his phone. “You answer it.”

Always one for some wicked fun, she clicked the speaker button. “He’s not hitting on me.”

“Kate?”

“Yes. He’s not hitting on me. Go back to work. Better yet, go home. Get some rest. Maybe a life. Goodnight.”

Laughing, she clicked off and handed the phone back to Ross. “As annoying as he is, he makes me laugh.”

“Honey, you have no idea.”

No, she didn’t. And once again, she felt a pang of envy for the camaraderie, the friendship, between Ross and Don and Marcia.

Someday, she’d find a work environment like that. One that felt right and long-term. Working for nutty Dev Branson probably wouldn’t be it for her, but she’d known that since day one. He was too demanding, too…rough around the edges. And then there were those middle of the night calls she’d like to throttle him for.

He knew people though. And respected her skills. Up until now she’d been satisfied with the idea of building a solid reputation in Vegas.

Until now. When she saw how it could be.

And wanted it.

Kate swiped the key card on the pad and unlocked the door. “Should we talk about before? What happened in the car?”

“Do we need to?”

“I don’t want you to think I make a habit—”

“I don’t think that. Besides, I was the instigator there. And I should know better. You’re a consultant here and I have a hard rule about mixing business with pleasure.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Because I don’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

The elevator dinged and a couple stumbled off, the man laughing at something the woman had said. Partiers heading to their room at the opposite end of the hallway.

For a moment, Ross watched them, waited until they got inside before bringing his attention back to Kate. “I’m attracted to you. Which is probably not a shock. I don’t know how to handle it and that’s a problem.”

She set her hand on the door, held it open an inch so the lock wouldn’t engage. “Well, we’re definitely in agreement there. It’s late. We’re both tired. Let’s table this discussion. At least until we can wrap our minds around whatever it is going on with us. Can we do that?”

“Yeah. Probably a good idea.”

“So, goodnight then.”

Ross stepped back—a good two feet—from the door. “See you in the morning.”

Yes. The morning. That’s when she’d see him.

Not tonight.

And not in her room.

* * *

Kate shut the door and threw the safety latch, just to be safe. After all, the man did have a master key. The only thing she couldn’t be sure of was whether the safety latch would keep Ross out or her in. A little of both she supposed.

Part of her, the extremely female part, had considered inviting him in for a drink. The other part, the incredibly intelligent part knew it would be a mistake. Her current state of mind—lust mixed with sadness over losing her friend—added up to a whole lot of emotional firepower.

Ross was shiny new and different.
Exciting
. And with her professional and personal reputation on the line, she didn’t trust her own typically well-primed judgment. A first if ever there’d been one.

She tossed her purse and briefcase on the sofa and slipped off her pumps. Oh, for a pair of broken-in cowboy boots right now.

She left her shoes in the middle of the floor. Tomorrow, she’d clean up her mess. If she dropped into bed immediately, she’d get almost a solid five hours of sleep. Maybe she’d chance five-and-a-half. That would leave an hour to clear emails before work.

An angled sheet of paper sat on the desktop. She cocked her head, instinctively knowing it shouldn’t be there. The chances of housekeeping missing that were slim. Not in this hotel. Everything here was spotless. Buttoned-up. Gleaming.

She moved closer, blinking a couple of times to clear her vision and spotted the red smear on the paper.
Handprint.
She stopped. Someone, without a doubt, had been in her room.

And it wasn’t housekeeping.

Which, had she not been daydreaming about Ross, she’d have realized the second she’d stepped into the room. Her FBI training, had she been alert, would have kicked in, prompting an immediate visual sweep before she’d even closed the door.

Dumb, Kate.
Reckless.

She spun back, scanning the room, her gaze darting over the bed to the walk-in closet and the bathroom. She moved closer, stood beside the bathroom door and pushed it open, the
thump-thump-thump
of her pulse banging in her ears.

Huge bathroom. Sunken tub, giant shower stall, toilet.

Tub
.

Deep tub. Easily someone could be hiding in it. She took two steps. Checked it.

Empty.

Clear.

Which left the closet.

Backtracking across the hall to the closet, she jerked one door open and immediately readied her hands for a potential fight.

Clear.

All clear.

Her pulse continued to pound, making the room swoop. She backed against the wall, bent over at the waist, and breathed.
Relax.
She focused on her heart rate, on forcing it down, on slowing the blood flow to her brain.

At this moment, she might be the only one in her room.

At this moment.

Chapter Seven

Don, in his normal high-drama mode, stormed into her suite. “What the hell happened?”

BOOK: Deadly Odds
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