by Lucy Leroux
Jason narrowed his eyes. “I know that look. What are you up to?”
Trick leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “I decided to set up my own underground casino.”
“Patrick…” Jason rolled his eyes. “You know that’s illegal. If I let you do something like that, your brother and your sister would have my guts for garters.”
“Not if I didn’t plan on keeping the money,” he said, holding up a finger. “For official purposes, it’s listed as a charity event.”
“You already set it up?” Ethan was shaking his head.
Trick loved these two, but he couldn’t let these two by-the-book law officers derail his plans.
“It goes down next week. I found a little place in Chinatown, and I’ve been blasting it on all the poker forums I belong to and then some. I’m spinning it as a ladies’ night special. Any woman who comes in the door gets a hundred in complimentary chips.”
“Only a hundred?” Ethan scoffed.
“I thought a thousand would be too suspicious.”
“A hundred may not be enough. Go with a grand. So what was the call in Chinese about?” Jason said, shuffling some papers.
“I asked Chao for a favor.”
“Oh, I do not like the sound of that,” Ethan said.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Jason agreed.
“No matter what you do, don’t tell Liam,” Trick said.
“You didn’t sign away your shares of the Caislean, did you?” Jason asked.
“Of course not,” he tsked. “But Chao’s daughter is getting married, and she loves the Caislean ballroom. The waiting list is booked up for the next five years.”
“Oh, is that all?” Jason appeared relieved, but Trick wasn’t finished yet.
“Well, technically, the date she wanted wasn’t available, but as it happened, the people who booked it are over a month late with the final payment. I’m going to bump them to the medium blue ballroom and refund them the difference.”
Trick had a great poker face, but his brother-in-law knew him too well by now. “What’s the catch?”
He grinned. “The people who booked it represent a prominent conservative congressman. He wanted to celebrate his thirtieth wedding anniversary with a big bash.”
“Liam is going to kill you.” Ethan’s grin was downright gleeful as he leaned back on the cushions. “I’ll let you borrow my gun if you want to defend yourself. Aim for the big bit.”
Trick snorted. On his brother, that was pretty much everywhere. “Maggie will back me up on this one. The congressman only wanted the big to-do because he was caught having an affair with a college-aged staffer last year. He’ll just have to make do with the smaller ballroom.”
Jason adopted the same amused posture as his partner. “Ethan is right. You’re going to need the gun. So what favor is the great and powerful Chao doing for you, and is it worth it?”
“He’s sending out an email.”
“An email?” Jason was skeptical. “You bumped a congressman’s pearl anniversary for an email?”
“His what?” Ethan asked, eyeing at his partner sideways.
Jason twirled his pen. “That’s what the thirtieth wedding anniversary is called. The first is paper, the tenth is tin or aluminum, twentieth is china. You know…”
“No, I don’t know.” Ethan rolled his eyes. “What man under seventy knows shit like that?” He turned to Trick and mouthed ‘whipped’.
Jason threw one of the decorative silk couch cushions at him. “I know because Maggie books a lot of the major events for the hotel chain. Rich people like to crow about how long they’ve been married so she has to know all that stuff. It bleeds over.”
Trick nodded at Ethan. “We had a third wedding anniversary celebration here last year with a budget in the six digits. The traditional gift for three years is leather. They went the S&M route for decor.”
Ethan laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. “Fucking rich people,” he said, subsiding. “Although come to think of it, that’s a party I would want to attend.”
“It was a lot less fun than it sounds,” Trick said, fiddling with a paperclip. “Anyway, on very rare occasions, Chao sends out notices for elite events. Those are by invitation only. Being on the list means you’re a high roller.”
“And is Tahlia on it?”
“She left an email, but there’s no way of knowing if it’s real or if she even checks it. Not everyone leaves a real one—not if they don’t know how to cover their tracks.”
“And you do?”
“I refuse to answer that on the grounds I might incriminate myself. Chao finally agreed to send my notice to his list.”
Jason smirked. “So long as you give him the most exclusive wedding reception venue in town for a song. How much is he paying exactly?”
Trick coughed. “Nothing.”
Jason howled.
“What’s wrong?” Ethan asked with a frown. “It’s just a room. How much can it cost?”
Jason held up a hand. “That grand ballroom books for ten grand minimum, and that’s just for the room. Add two or three hundred a head for the meals and booze…” He shook his head. “Liam is going to kill him.”
“Wish it was the other way around,” Ethan said, not quite under his breath. “Tahlia better check her damn email.”
Trick gripped his pen tighter. “If she doesn’t, there’s still the poker forums…”
Ethan adjusted his collar and held up his phone. “Well, since you shared, I suppose I will, too.” Just before your little conference, the medical examiner finally forwarded the bloodwork from Tahlia’s apartment.”
He frowned. “I thought you had that already.”
“Only the blood types. After talking to Maia, I played a hunch. I asked them to retest for a familial match.”
What the hell? “You think a relative attacked her?”
Jason flicked a glance at his partner. “One of the first things Maia told us was to take a closer look at them. She said Tahlia never talked about them, just about her mom who died when she was little and the maid who acted as nanny to her. She was tight-lipped about the rest of the clan. All Tahlia ever said about them was they lived in Florida, on an estate.”
“And?” Trick was on the edge of his seat.
“Well, Maia distinctly remembers two occasions when Tahlia wanted to leave some location because she thought she saw one of them here in town.”
“Just seeing one of them was enough to make her bolt?”
“Apparently. So we had retested the blood for a familial match, but there was a big backlog.”
“And?” Was Ethan trying to give him an aneurysm?
“It was a match, probable first cousin.”
Unbelievable. “Why am I just hearing about this now? Have you arrested him?”
The agents exchanged a glance. Ethan crossed his arms. “It’s complicated.”
Trick swore. “How complicated can it be?”
Why weren’t they jumping up, ready to chase down the bad guy? It was what they did—what they lived for.
Jason held up a hand. “Tahlia has at least a dozen cousins. And they are loaded and lawyered up the wazoo. For fuck’s sake, they have more lawyers than Calen. Plus, there’s one more thing you seem to have forgotten.”
Trick waited, biting the inside of his lip.
“What?”
“Based on the limited sampling, most of the blood was male, not female. If anyone is dead, it’s this cousin. Which means she may have done him in.”
What the hell weren’t these two telling him?
“So what does that mean? Now you know she’s alive, you’re after her for murder?”
Jason and Ethan exchanged another loaded glance.
Fuck.
Chapter 12
Tahlia limped along the street, taking the back entrance to the shelter. She checked her reflection in all the storefront windows she passed. Unless someone stared closely, they couldn’t tell she was injured. Th
ere was no hint of her bruises on the surface, at least not yet. Tahlia didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.
Being beat up might help garner some sympathy with the shelter staff, but bruises wouldn’t help her get work, not in catering. Servers were required to be presentable and nondescript. That was why she was going to the shelter. It was Gina’s day to volunteer in the kitchen.
“Jesus H. Christ.” Gina took one look at her before wrapping her in a bear hug against her expansive bosom.
The uncharacteristic show of affection crumpled what little resolve she had. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she sobbed in the older woman’s arms.
“What happened? And why are you limping?”
Tahlia sniffed hard. “I fell. Or to be more precise, I was pushed. Two men mugged me and took my bag. I have nothing left now.”
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.” Gina ushered her into the adjoining office. She sat her down on the little couch in front of the desk adorned with an ancient PC computer. “Wait here. I’m going to make you a hot coffee with extra cream and sugar.”
“I take it black,” Tahlia said, scrubbing at her wet cheeks.
“Not today you don’t. You need the calories.”
She caught Gina’s sleeve. “Wait. Can I do some more work for you, please?”
Gina tsked and patted her on the head. “Not today, sweetie. You can barely walk. But don’t you worry, once you stop limping, I’ll be slapping a tray in your hand. Now, why don’t you go ahead and do some faux online shopping? Pick out a pair of shoes and a hot dress you can’t afford. That always cheers me up.”
“It does?”
“Sure does, sweetie. Now go on.”
Tahlia sniffed and nodded. She hobbled to the office chair, browsing as directed on the ancient computer, but stopped when Gina came back with the coffee.
“I talked to the day manager. She’s out on the floor now. I’m afraid they don’t have a bed for tonight, but you’re in luck. You can have that couch.”
Gina pointed to the worn brown sofa by the door. “I’ve napped on the thing myself. It’s no worse than one of the cots from the main room. If you fold those long legs of yours, you’ll fit okay. Plus, you can play solitaire on the guest account. Sorry, it’s too old to support any other games,” Gina finished with a nod at the computer.
Tahlia smiled wanly. “Thank you. And if you ever change your mind, my offer still stands to balance the account books for this place or the catering company. I’m very good at math.”
“I’m sure you are, but we pay an accountant for that. Just focus on resting up.”
Gina left her alone after that. Dejected and in pain, Tahlia tried to regroup. After a long nap, she drank the cold coffee Gina left on the desk and even played a few hands of solitaire, but it was dull after the thrill of poker against human opponents. Especially cardsharps like Patrick…
That night playing him had been the most thrilling of her entire life. So far, she told herself sternly. She needed to stay positive. There would be other nights like it. This was only a temporary setback. She’d heal up and go back to work for Gina long enough to earn bus fare to California.
Once there, she’d hit a few Indian casinos. Mexico might be fun to visit but seemed too dangerous for an inexperienced traveler like her to settle in, so she’d search for a real job in Europe or Canada. Also, the only foreign language she was truly fluent in was math…
On impulse, she logged into the email account she’d created for her poker alias. Despite not using the account for anything but poker, she had a ton of spam, most of it for online gaming sites.
If only I’d saved a little credit on one of those, she thought. But now she didn’t even have cash for bus fare, let alone a credit card. Not that any of her accounts were safe to use. The only ones she had were in her real name.
Deleting one particularly egregious email, she scanned the rest of the subject lines. One jumped out at her. Ladies Night Special Event, Manhattan. The email was from the King of Spades, the special account that belonged to Chao’s casino.
She opened the message. It was addressed to her gambling pseudonym Maria Diaz.
A complimentary thousand dollars in chips to any women who enter the doors before ten pm. No minimum buy-in. Ten Grand Pot. Elite players, by invitation only.
“What the hell?” she said aloud. Who in their right mind would give away that much cash to every woman who came to play?
Skeptical, Tahlia checked her favorite poker forum. News of the game was all over it. The free chips were dismissed as a promotional stunt. Various users claimed the list had no women or at most one or two. The no-minimum buy-in was also being picked apart. Chao’s elite table in Boston had a five-hundred-dollar minimum.
Her skin began to prick with excitement. The game was local and just a few days away. The address was less than ten minutes by train. Walking it would take her less than a half hour. She wouldn’t have to borrow subway fare.
She glanced down at her worn black pants and thin denim jacket, and her heart sank. This game was a godsend, but she wouldn’t get past the bouncer in these clothes. Thanks to the mugging, they were the only ones she had.
When Gina came in to tell her lunch was ready, Tahlia pushed herself to stand despite the pain. “Gina, do you by chance have a dress I can borrow?”
The peal of laughter was answer enough. Tahlia quickly masked her disappointment. She was being presumptuous.
“I’m sorry. You’ve done so much for me already. Please, forget I said anything.”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s not that. You’re welcome to anything in my closet, but none of it is going to fit you. All my dresses would hang on you like a tent,” she said, eyeing Tahlia’s svelte form. “But maybe my daughter has something that’ll do. It’ll be short on you, though, so I better lend you a razor, too. You need one.”
It was nothing less than the truth, but for some reason, Tahlia found that hilarious.
Laughing was surprisingly painful. She’d forgotten her injuries. But she put her hands on her ribs and kept laughing anyway.
Chapter 13
Trick squinted at the grainy video feed on Ethan’s tablet. “Why didn’t you let me buy new cameras?” he groaned.
How would he be able to tell if any of the women arriving was Tahlia with this crap resolution?
“The bureau doesn’t have as much money as the Caislean. Especially for an off-book sting operation,” Ethan replied.
The agent was busy setting up his surveillance equipment on the empty prep table. They weren’t serving a formal dinner, only drinks. They had the kitchen to themselves.
“I wish you would stop calling it that,” Trick groused. “You promised to give Tahlia the benefit of the doubt. It’s not like you have enough evidence to charge her with anything. You don’t even have a body.”
Ethan’s lips flattened. “You’re starting to sound like Calen and Liam when they start throwing their weight around. Do me a favor and don’t start acting like them now, too. You need to focus on ID’ing the girl and convincing her to trust you. Whatever she’s mixed up in is bad. That lot in Florida is a nasty bunch.”
Trick flicked Ethan and annoyed glance, but he nodded. He didn’t need to be told there was a lot at stake.
After the blood results came in, Jason and Ethan reached out to the authorities in Florida. They wanted to know which once of Tahlia’s cousins was missing, presumed dead. The bureau in Miami promised to check it out, but instead of hearing back from them, they were contacted by a prestigious Manhattan law firm.
A flood of threats followed. Jason and Ethan were strongly advised in the harshest legalese not to contact any member of Tahlia’s family. Harassment of any kind would be met with a legal shitstorm of biblical proportions.
It’s like they didn’t care about the welfare of one of their own.
Trick had met families like that before—the kind that dealt with their own problems internally. If Tahlia was that problem, then she needed
help. A lot of it.
“She was so thin and pale the last time I saw her, like she’d skipped a lot of meals.” My last meal was steak. As if on cue his stomach began to hurt.
“Not by choice, I’m sure,” Ethan observed quietly, giving him a once over before continuing to fiddle with the surveillance equipment.
He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of anyone going hungry or being out in this cold without a warm coat, but the thought of her in those circumstances…shit, it keeps me up at night. “
Ethan sighed, coming up behind him. “You’ve given this girl her best shot to come in out of the cold with this setup,” he said, gesturing at the feeds that covered every angle of the makeshift casino floor. “But you need to be prepared. There’s a chance she may not show tonight.”
Trick waved away the complications. “If she doesn’t come, I’ll try again in another neighborhood. Is Jason ready?”
“Yeah, he’s behind the bar. I wouldn’t order anything complicated if I were you. His cocktail-making skills are total crap.”
“I know.” Trick wrinkled his nose, remembering a sad attempt at a Rob Roy that turned his stomach. “Remind me why he’s out there playing bartender instead of you?”
“Because the most elaborate thing I can do behind a bar is pouring a pint.” Ethan adjusted his tie.
Trick snickered. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re kind of shit at that. The last one you poured me had way too big a head.”
Ethan snorted and shoved him toward the kitchen doors. “Get out there and mingle, but keep out of sight of the entrance. If your girl shows, we don’t want her to make you and bolt before we can stop her.”
Trick peeked through the small porthole in the door. In the short time since he’d last checked, the crowd had grown. The room was busy enough to blend into now. Without another word, he pushed open the swinging door and went out to walk the floor.
Maybe I should open a real casino. This place had once been a well-known card room, but in the last couple years, the clientele had dropped off until it was almost dead. Consequently, asking to borrow the venue had been easy. The proprietors welcomed his input, seeing it as an attempt to breathe new life into their spot. They were going to be pleased. Though his name and reputation pulled this crowd in the door, it was the little touches he’d added that kept them.