Deadly Odds (23 page)

“Yeah. Couldn’t shut my brain off. I left around five, went back to my office to get caught up on emails. Samuels would like an update from us today. You ready for that?”

Was she? Outside of almost getting killed, she wasn’t sure she had anything substantial to report. The handsome man across from her was proving too much of a distraction. Right after breakfast, she’d check in with John. See if he had anything new for her.

She placed her napkin in her lap, smoothed it. “I’ve reached out to my contacts regarding the crossroader on the strip.”

Kate loved that term. Crossroader. It sounded so much more civilized than calling someone a cheat.

“Anything new?”

“From what I can gather, seventy percent of the revenue loss is from mini-bac.”

Ross whistled. “I’ll talk to Don. We’ll dedicate someone from surveillance to it. That’ll give you an extra set of eyes.”

Kate’s phone blinged and she dug it out of her tote. “That’s Don’s ring. Excuse me.” She tapped the screen. “Good morning, Don. What’s up?”

“Tell Ross you’ll see him later. I need you.”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me. We got a problem at hold ’em.”

Alrighty then.
Duty calling. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

She pulled the phone from her ear and poked the screen.

Ross narrowed his eyes. “What’d he say?”

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing.”

“He’s being Don, but I need to get over to hold ’em. Raincheck on breakfast?”

“Sure. Make sure you eat though.”

“Yes, dear.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.”

“I’m sure you do.”

He smiled up at her. She liked this guy. Maybe too much. “Okay, handsome. I’m going to go do my job now. I’ll see you later.”

“I sure hope so.”

Kate entered the casino and swung around to the far side, where a row of penny slots ran perpendicular to the poker tables. She stood at the end of the row, tucked next to a support beam to phone Don.

The one who’d been keeping tabs on her and Ross. Part of her couldn’t blame him for being short with her on the phone. Part of her, in fact, felt a little shameful. She was a professional, a woman who’d never compromised her reputation by sleeping with a client. Or coworker.

But that didn’t give Don permission to spy on them via video surveillance.

She leaned against the wall, eyes on the two open poker tables in front of her and waited for him to answer. On the first ring, he picked up. “I’m here,” she said. “What am I looking for?”

“Table five. The guy sitting left of the gun. White shirt.”

Kate scanned the tables, located a man in a white shirt sitting to the left of the table position known as under the gun. He had frizzy, reddish hair and wore thick rimmed glasses straight out of the eighties.

“Got him. What’s the problem?”

“I can’t tell. Possible physical office. Watch his fingers. It’s subtle but keep watching. Each hand he does something with his fingers.”

Offices, slang for the term “tip us off,” referred to physical or verbal signals a cheat might use when working with another player at a table.

Kate stayed on the phone with Don while watching the players, looking for any indications of team play.

Nothing. No hand to the hair or scratching of the nose that might indicate what cards the players—all men in this case—were holding.

But all this standing around wasn’t helping. Kate needed to park herself at one of the two open seats at the table. “I need a better look. I’ll play a few hands.”

“Don’t spook him.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I won’t. I’m a damned good poker player.”

“I’m sure. Hold on.” He broke off. “You got anything?” he said to someone on the other end. “Okay. Thanks. Kate?”

“I’m here.”

“The woman you tagged at mini-bac writing down the order of the cards the other night is clean.”

Dead end. Well, they tried.

“We can cross that off our list then. Let me get on this poker thing. I’ll call you back in a bit.”

Ten minutes later, while the dealer worked with the other players, the man on her radar sat staring at his cards, his hands spread over them with his index and third finger slightly apart.

The man folded and eventually the player at the opposite end of the table, a young guy in his twenties at the cutoff position, won the pot. Interesting. Once again the dealer initiated play, dealing the pocket cards to everyone. And, hello, her target spread his index and third finger over his cards.

Different this time. Kate checked her cards, decided them unworthy and folded. Minutes later, her target won the pot and another hand was dealt.

And then another. And, wow, these guys were good. Suspicion aside, she simply couldn’t tell if they were signaling each other.

She colored out and left the table, dialing Don as she walked.

“Whatcha got, red?”

Red? Now he’d given her a nickname? “How long has he been playing?”

“About an hour.”

“Winning?”

“Even. The cutoff is up ten grand.”

The cutoff. Interesting. “They could be partners. I’m coming back up to look at the video.”

“Awright. Good work, Kate.”

“Thank you. And Don?”

“Yeah?”

“I adore you, but quit spying on Ross and me.”

* * *

After Kate had high-tailed it to poker, Ross finished his paperwork, ate a quick meal and headed back to his office.

Marcia shoved a stack of messages at him. “I cleared your voicemail. And Don called while you were downstairs. He needs to see you in surveillance.”

He held up the stack of messages. “Okay. I’ll get with him. When my nine o’clock gets here, put him in my office.”

“Will do. And brace yourself. As I was hanging up I heard Don screaming at someone.”

Excellent
. What in hell was going on? He hustled to the surveillance room and found Don, as Marcia had warned, bellowing orders to two techs that, if they were smart, should file an HR complaint about their supervisor’s abuse.

Ross cleared his throat and Don whipped around, his face that purplish color it turned when his blood pressure spiked. “What’s up?”

He waved a meaty hand toward the monitors on the wall. “Possible finger offices at hold ’em.”

Ross studied the monitors, his gaze zooming to the lone woman at the table as she checked her cards. “Is that Kate?”

“Yeah. It’s from a few minutes ago. She’s not there anymore. She’s a pisser that one. And she’s a pretty good poker player.”

He didn’t doubt that. There was a reason Samuels hired her and Samuels was no fool. “She getting a better look at this guy?”

Don pointed to another monitor where they’d zoomed in on a young guy sitting at the table. “Yeah. She thinks he might be partnered up with this mope. He just left the table.”

“Either of them win?”

He pointed again. “This guy. Ten grand. Toby noticed the first guy doing something with his fingers and called me. I wanted Kate to take an up-close look. Sorry to interrupt your
meeting.
You know, we see everything from here, right?”

He knew.

Hell, the old man had probably tracked their every move and saw Ross leaving her room at 5:00 AM. His own fault after telling the security guys they could leave.

He stood in the middle of the surveillance room, ignoring the techs and the quiet tension piercing his neck. Ignoring the awkwardness that came with Don’s team knowing, with them
seeing
, he and Kate had moved way beyond a platonic relationship.

He kept his eyes on the monitors in front of him, replaying his actions over the last twelve hours. Was it humiliating for Don to be passive-aggressively scolding him?

Sure was.

Considering that had never happened before. Typically when Don had something to say, he said it. This? Different. Big time.

He faced Don. “I’m aware of what you see. Where’s Kate now?”

“I’m here,” she said, striding through the door, her gaze moving first to Ross than to Don. “Let me have a look from up here. If these guys are cheating, they’re good.”

“Yeah.” Don pointed to the monitors again. “We can’t nail ’em from here either.”

Kate dropped into an open seat. “And we don’t know their names?”

Don propped one hand on a hip and his suit jacket flapped open. “No. They don’t want player cards.”

“You’ve got this?” Ross asked. “I have someone in my office. Anything comes up, let Marcia know and I’ll duck out.”

Another long damned day. He could feel it already. He strode the long hallway, ticking off a to-do list in his mind. The tension from his neck slid down, settled into his chest and squeezed.

Too much to do.

Today, he needed to get caught up. If he didn’t, the snowball would run right over his ass and bury him. At his office, Marcia met him with a clipboard. What now?

“You okay? You look stressed.”

I am stressed.
“I’m good. How many meetings after this one?”

“Three. Then a conference call with Samuels and Stanton at 3:00. I blocked off 4:00-7:00 for you to get through the mess on your desk.”

“Thank you. We need to get caught up today.”

“I know. Wacky week. I’ll get you on track today if it kills me.”

“Don’t say that. Not the way this week has gone.”

He scanned the request she’d handed him for a private plane for one of their whales among whales, signed off and handed the clipboard back.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

Hours later, after his call with Samuels started almost an hour late, Ross sat at his desk, feet propped up, head resting back while he listened to Rick Stanton, his former boss and VP of casino operations at Dominion, outline Dominion’s latest marketing initiatives.

Ross needed a break. A few minutes to catch his breath, clear his mind and refocus. Chances were he wouldn’t get it. Not until at least midnight. But he needed some solid sleep tonight or he wouldn’t keep up with his own screwy schedule. And that would bring a whole other ration of shit his way.

He glanced up, found Kate standing in the doorway.
Now there’s a nice break
. He waved her in and muted the call. “This’ll be over in five. Can you wait?”

“You’re the boss.” He grinned and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Someone on the call said his name and he hit the mute button again. “I agree. Have someone type it up and send it over. I’ll implement it here and we can reconvene in two weeks.”

“Fine,” Rick said. “What else?”

Ross took that as his cue. “FYI. We had a couple of guys here this morning. Possible finger offices. Nothing came of it, but I’ll send you whatever video we have and you can put them on your radar.”

“Did they win?”

Samuels, always wanting the bottom line.

“Ten grand,” Ross said.

“Thanks,” Stanton said. “We’re on it. I gotta run. We done here?”

Over the years, Stanton had taught Ross many things. One of them being how to do an end run with Samuels by cutting off a conversation before the boss could hijack it.

“We’re done,” Samuels said. “Keep me updated.”

A round of “yes, sirs” ensued and Ross disconnected. He sat back and checked his desk clock. 4:55. Marcia told him she’d blocked the next two hours for him to catch up on paperwork.

This morning, it’d been a lifeboat. He glanced at the pile of folders neatly stacked on the corner of his desk. At least two hours’ worth. Crap, his lifeboat had a hole in it. The last freaking thing he wanted to do was sit at this desk for the next two hours.

Not when he had Kate in front of him.

He leaned forward on his elbows, focused hard on her. “What are you doing now?”

“Heading to my room. I need to wrap up some things. Maybe a nap because a handsome executive kept me up last night. Why? Do you need something?”

“Have a drink with me. I need a break and the two hours Marcia blocked off for paperwork won’t do it. But if I could spend an hour talking to you,
that
would do it.”

She studied him, twisting her mouth one way, then the other, clearly mulling over his offer.

“Come on,” he said. “You know you want to.”

“One drink. Then I have to go.” She smiled. “You Dominion Corp boys are fairly demanding.”

“One drink.”

He escorted Kate out of his office and found Marcia at her desk. His assistant faced him, stared at him with large, questioning eyes and tapped her watch. “The time I blocked off is underway. What are you doing?”

“I’ll be in the casino lounge. Get packed up here and head home.”

“Did you add a meeting?” she asked.

Marcia didn’t like when he went rogue with her carefully crafted schedule, but sometimes he needed what he needed.