Wading Into War: A Benjamin Wade Mystery (10 page)
Read Wading Into War: A Benjamin Wade Mystery Online
Authors: Scott Dennis Parker
“What are you smiling at, Carter?” the man
across the table asked.
Carter fingered his tie and made his smile
bigger. “I just can’t get over how lucky Johns here is.”
“It ain’t luck,” Johns growled, throwing a
menacing look Carter’s way. Johns’s suit was rumpled and his tie askew, owing
to his constant fiddling with it on his winning streak. “It’s all skill.”
“Oh, it’s skill alright.” Carter cocked
eyebrows. “But I’m not sure it’s yours.”
The man across the table paused in the act of
raising his highball glass to his lips. The light of the oil lamps overhead
glistened on his shiny cufflinks. Slowly, he lowered the glass, the whiskey
still swilling in the glass. “What are you implying, Mr. Carter?”
Carter held up his hands, palms out.
“Absolutely nothing, Mr. Tobias. I was merely noting that every man here at
this table has a certain degree of skill at this game. Sometimes, a man’s skill
at poker can win him more hands than the cards indicate. Other times, a man can
falter, no matter how good he is.” He patted his chest. “My skill just seems to
be lacking here tonight and Mr. Johns is the benefactor.”
A small crowd had gathered around the table as
Johns racked up his winnings. A game of chance had sprouted among the
onlookers, seeing as there wasn’t going to be a vacancy at the table for the
time being. With each successive hand, money and coin exchanged hands, to the
choruses of cheers and grunts. A few of the working ladies hung on the arms of
some of the men. Despite their earnest entreaties, none of the men would leave.
Jeffery Tobias drained his glass and held it up
over his shoulder. One of the dark-suited men directly behind him took the
glass and waded the crowd to the bar. With a last, long look at Carter, he
said, “Well, Mr. Johns, I don’t care what Mr. Carter thinks about his own lack
of skill, you’re playing a mighty fine round of poker. If I count your chips
correctly, your winnings are rapidly advancing on a little bonus.”
“Bonus?” Johns said, lacing his voice with
extra curiosity.
As a trained actor, Carter felt the massive
urge to give Johns acting lessons. Nonetheless, Carter smiled to himself.
Things he had suspected were coming to pass.
Tobias sucked in his cheeks as he took a
lungful of smoke from his cigar. He let the smoke waft upward as he spoke.
“Yes, Mr. Johns. A bonus. Any man who earns four hundred dollars at the table
is entitled to a room with one of my ladies.” He paused and smirked. “Free of
charge.”
Johns actually blushed and Carter fought the
urge to roll his eyes.
“Let’s get on with the next hand,” Peter McKay
said. He sat to Carter’s left. He was a bearded man and had sweated through his
clothes, clogging the smoky air with his stink. Absently, McKay wiped his
forehead with the back of his hand. It made a wet sound.
Carter sniggered, “You must like losing more
than I do, McKay.”
“Shut up,” McKay said. To the dealer, he said,
“Deal.”
Anderson, the dealer, looked at Tobias who
nodded. The cards began flying across the table. Carter kept his cards face
down, pulling up the corners to determine what he had. As usual, it was junk.
He examined his small pile of chips in front of him. He might be able to
stretch his presence at the table for a round or two more but, after that, he
would have to leave.
Time to force the issue. But first, he was
going to have some fun.
Response
There
is one more person I need to thank. You, dear reader. For whatever
reason, you bought this book and you read it. I hope you enjoyed the story as
much as I enjoyed creating it. And I thank you for taking a chance on me.
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Wading
Into War
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Scott Dennis Parker lives and works in his
native Houston, Texas. He is the Saturday columnist at DoSomeDamage.com. He is
the founder of Quadrant Fiction Studio, an independent publisher that
specializes in stories that will amaze, excite, and, most importantly,
entertain you.