Secrets That Kill: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

by Colleen Helme

  “You’re doing great,” Ramos smiled, thinking how satisfying it was to watch Carson squirm. And I was playing my part better than he’d hoped. He really enjoyed watching me play and wished Manetto were there to see it. Maybe when we got back he could set up a game, just for the hell of it. He glanced at me, knowing I’d heard everything, and shrugged. “It might be fun.”

  “Yeah, you just want me to show off.”

  “And win some money,” he added. “Don’t forget that part.”

  “Hmm, there is that,” I agreed. “As long as I get to keep it.”

  “Well, you might have to split it with me, since I’m the one who taught you how to play.”

  “Sure. I get ninety percent, and you can have ten. How does that sound?”

  “Like I’ll have to negotiate for better terms.” Ramos checked his watch. “We’d better get back.”

  The next hour went by quickly. I made a couple of mistakes, but at the end of it, Ramos assured me I was still on track. Nick joined us during the break, letting us know he’d successfully delivered the information. He was impressed that I was doing so well and interested to watch the next round.

  “Got anything more from Carson?” Ramos asked.

  “No,” I responded.

  Ramos told Nick I had a ‘premonition’ that Carson was up to something, but I didn’t know what it was yet. Nick nodded grimly, telling us he’d parked the car in the alley next to the employee entrance in case we needed to leave in a hurry. Ramos checked in with our hired guards, but they had nothing new to report.

  “We’ll just have to keep alert,” Ramos said.

  The break ended, and I went back to my chair with resignation. Playing poker this long was wearing me out, and I was ready for it to be over. With the fourth hour, we were now up to eight thousand for the big blind, and four for the small. That much money made things a little more difficult, and I had to really think about betting on some hands that I might not have at the beginning of the game.

  After several hands, I’d won more than I’d lost, and I eagerly checked the clock. The hour was nearly over, but I was in a tight spot. My two cards were a six and ten, which were low, but Carson’s were worse, with a four and nine. Since he’d placed the big blind, and me the small, I added four thousand to call.

  Rather than raise me, Carson checked. He’d only done that once before, so I decided to check too. It made him think I didn’t have anything, which was basically true except that my ten was higher than his nine. The flop came out with a five, a king, and an ace. Still nothing for either of us, but Carson threw in five thousand, so I called.

  The turn was a lousy two. This time Carson checked again, wanting to see if I’d bet. I figured I’d check too, and Carson assumed I still didn’t have anything. The river turned up a seven. Carson decided that since I’d checked, he’d play to get the pot, and bet ten thousand, thinking I’d fold because betting that much meant he had something.

  I knew I’d won the round, so I called his ten thousand and raised him twenty-five. He threw down his cards, shocking me with an emotional outburst. He was thinking I was such an amateur that I didn’t know when to fold. I didn’t know how to play real poker, and it was messing up his game. His face turned red, and he took shallow breaths. Cursing loudly in his mind, he ran his fingers over his thinning hair, trying desperately to get under control.

  Wow, he was really mad. The dealer was working hard to keep a straight face and pushed the chips toward me. He began shuffling the deck for the next round, thinking this was the best poker match he’d ever witnessed and that I was an amazing player. That brought a smile to my lips.

  Just then, a bell sounded, signaling the end of the hour. I exhaled with relief and glanced down at my chips. With this big win, I had close to seven hundred thousand dollars, leaving Carson with only three.

  Carson staggered over to the bar, calling his men to his side. He couldn’t figure out what was going on. Was it something he was doing? Did he have a tell I was picking up on? He knew he sometimes widened his eyes, but that’s why he wore dark glasses, so it couldn’t be him. That left me. The only tell I had was that I pursed my lips a lot, but I did that whether my cards were good or bad, so that didn’t seem to be it. No, I had to be cheating. He’d asked his men to watch me closely. Maybe they’d figured out what I was doing.

  I stood, making my way toward Ramos, still listening in on their thoughts. Neither of Carson’s men had anything to offer that would explain how I was winning, and Carson about lost it. He quietly told them to make the call to Esposito like they’d planned and have him show up before the next hour was over.

  My breath froze. From the image in Carson’s mind, I knew Esposito was a cop. I reached Ramos, taking his arm and moving behind him so he blocked Carson’s view of me. “They’re making their move,” I whispered. “One of them is going to call a cop named Esposito to come within the hour. Is gambling here illegal? We can’t let them make that call. Oh damn!”

  “What?” Ramos asked.

  “They just sent a text message to Esposito. We can’t stop him now. What should we do?”

  “You’ll just have to win before the cops show up,” he said. “How much time do we have?”

  “Carson said before the hour was up.”

  “Then we probably have a little time.” Ramos motioned Nick to his side. “We know their plan,” he explained. “Carson has a cop on the take, and he’s arranged for him to show up. I need you to watch the club from somewhere safe and text me when they get here.”

  “Okay,” Nick agreed, and quickly left.

  “Don’t worry, Shelby,” Ramos said. “We can still do this. You get the better hand, go all in.”

  I nodded, but didn’t know if I could pull it off in time. The ten-minute break was up, and I made my way back to the table. Carson sat down across from me, his anger and frustration gone. He didn’t want to lose, especially to me, but at least he’d get to keep the money, minus a small fee to Esposito and his men. He knew I was cheating. There was no other explanation, but how was a mystery. He’d find out though, and he couldn’t wait.

  What did that mean? He’d find out? It was almost like he planned to torture it out of me. At least that’s how it sounded. What was he up to?

  “It’s your bet,” the dealer said to me. “Sixteen thousand for the big blind, eight for the small. You play first.”

  I counted up the chips and slid them in, hoping my cards would be great and I could go all in on the first hand. The cards were dealt, and I got a seven and a two. Those were the worst cards ever! Carson had two tens and called, but I folded right away.

  The next two rounds were just as bad, and my heart sank with each fold. Finally I got a jack and a ten. Carson had a queen and a four. I called, and the dealer turned the flop, showing an eight, nine, and a four. My heart raced. This was close. All I needed was a queen or a seven for a straight, and I’d win.

  Carson put in ten thousand, even though he only had a pair of fours. He didn’t care too much if he lost, since it didn’t really matter anymore. I called, and the turn was a seven. Yes! I had it! I glanced at Carson, but instead of placing his bet, he folded, and I could have screamed. Carson was thinking he’d seen my pupils dilate and knew I was excited, so he’d folded. From my disgruntled expression, he figured he’d made the right choice.

  I took the chips and waited for the next round. He’d read me pretty well, and it made me mad. Then I remembered my purse under my chair. With a smile I couldn’t hide, I reached down and rummaged through my purse until I found my dark glasses and slipped them on.

  Carson scowled. How had I known? It was almost like I’d read his mind. Now how was he going to know when I had a good hand? He breathed slowly in through his nose, telling himself it didn’t matter. He was still going to keep the money. He just hated losing to a cheater.

  What a dirtwad jerkface! Now I almost regretted that I’d talked Ramos out of shooting him. Maybe I could do it for him. I closed my
eyes until I felt more in control, opening them when the dealer finished shuffling and dealt out the next cards.

  A pair of aces! I kept my breathing normal, but was suddenly grateful I’d found my dark glasses. With the stress, I couldn’t have kept my eyes from dilating for anything. This was good. Carson had a pair of nines. He called and I checked, wanting him to think I didn’t have anything. He raised me ten thousand, hoping I’d fold, but I called instead. So far, so good.

  The flop revealed a three, ten and jack. This time I bet ten thousand. He called and bumped me ten thousand. I called and the turn revealed an ace. That made three aces! It was the winning hand I needed!

  Pursing my lips, I bet another ten thousand. Carson called and raised me ten thousand again. Narrowing my eyes at his bold move, I listened to him thinking that he needed to stall until the cops got there. He was hoping to make me waste all my time thinking about what to do next.

  So not going to happen. I quickly called his bet, and the river turned a nine, giving him three of a kind. Carson was ecstatic. He thought he had it made. He’d raise whatever I did and win some of his money back.

  It was my turn to bet first. This was it. “All in,” I said.

  “Huh?” he asked, surprised. He hadn’t expected that. He studied the cards, trying to decide if I really had anything or was just bluffing. The cards weren’t sequential enough to give me a straight, and they were different suits, so there was no way I could have a flush. I might have two pair, but his three nines beat any pair I had. He glanced at me to see if my pupils were dilated or if my lips were pursed more than normal.

  Thankfully my dark glasses hid my eyes from him. I almost licked my lips, but stopped at the last moment. Just hurry up already!

  He could either fold and keep the chips he had, or go all in and see my cards.

  “All in,” he said, pushing all his chips forward and thinking he’d call my bluff.

  Relief swept over me, and I wanted to jump up and down and do a few victory laps. Instead I smiled, a nice big smile, and turned over my cards.

  “Three aces takes three nines,” the dealer said. “The winner of the match goes to Shelby.”

  “Woohoo!” I yelled, throwing my arms up in the air. I couldn’t contain my elation and pushed back my chair to throw my arms around Ramos, who picked me up and twirled me in a circle. We were both laughing when Ramos’ face turned serious.

  “My phone,” he said, letting me go and reaching into his pocket. “They’re here,” he whispered.

  Chapter 11

  “We have to go,” Ramos said.

  “What about the money,” I asked.

  “Won’t do us much good in jail.” He grabbed my hand and we started toward the door.

  “Wait!” Carson shouted. “Where are you going?”

  “Something’s come up,” Ramos said. “We’ll pick up the money later.”

  He pulled the door open and we dashed down the long hallway. Just before we came to the outer door, it opened, and a detective pushed inside. Another detective along with two uniformed cops followed.

  Seeing us, he quickly raised his gun. “Stop right there and put your hands where I can see them. Now!”

  My heart pounded in my chest as I slowly raised my arms. What now? There was no way we could get out of this mess, and I hoped Ramos wouldn’t try anything. The detective quickly cuffed Ramos while the other man patted him down, pulling out Ramos’ gun and slipping it into his pocket.

  Another cop came to my side and pulled my hands behind my back to cuff me. He motioned me to turn around, and marched me back to the room we’d just vacated. Inside, things were much the same as we’d left them. As we entered, both the card dealer and the bartender wore identical shocked expressions. Carson just looked bored, but inside he seethed with anger. Even though Esposito had gotten there in time, I’d beaten him, and he wasn’t going to forget it. Ever.

  Before anyone had a chance to speak, Max burst into the room, full of outrage. “What’s the meaning of this?” he shouted. “You can’t come charging in here like this without a warrant.”

  “I don’t need a warrant,” Esposito answered. “What you’re doing here isn’t exactly legal. Casino-style card games are not allowed for gambling over ten dollars in Florida.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Max said. “No one gets arrested for gambling in Florida.”

  The detective grimaced, thinking Max had a point. Good thing that wasn’t the plan. “That’s not why I’m here.” He turned to Ramos and me. “You’re both under arrest for the murder of Kato Ortega.”

  “What?” I asked, the blood draining from my face. “Who’s that? This is all a big mistake.”

  Ramos shook his head, thinking that I needed to keep my mouth shut. The less I said the better, especially if these guys were on the take from Carson. Who knew what they were capable of? Things like planting evidence and tampering with a witness were only the tip of the iceberg.

  “You have the right to remain silent…”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. The cop kept reading us our rights as he led us down the hall and through the crowds to the exit. Everyone moved out of the way, and soon we were outside, standing beside a police car parked at the curb. Instead of making me get in, the detective kept walking me toward an unmarked squad car. He opened the door, put his hand on my head, and pushed me inside the backseat.

  Esposito pushed Ramos in on the other side, and we sat together while they got into the front seat. I watched the other police car drive off with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Esposito’s thoughts confirmed my fears. They weren’t taking us to the police station. The charges weren’t real.

  I glanced at Ramos, letting the fear in my eyes do the talking. He’d come to the same conclusion as me, but it didn’t scare him like it scared me. It just made him mad. Especially since they were scaring me. These guys were going to be sorry they’d ever messed with him.

  The knot loosened in my stomach, and my lips turned up in a small smile. Whatever happened, it was going to work out. I had Ramos with me. He was like Rambo and Die Hard and all those tough guys combined. Only…he was for real. Somehow, we’d get out of this.

  “If you haven’t figured out who Kato Ortega is yet, I might as well fill you in,” Esposito began. “His street name was “Cobra.” Does that ring any bells?” Esposito watched me through the rearview mirror and caught my startled eyes. “Yeah, Carson was pretty pissed off that you killed him. But don’t worry. He doesn’t want you dead. He’s got something else in mind.”

  He was thinking it involved the money and me…he was going to…pull over and let Ramos out. What? He did just that, pulling into a parking lot and stopping the car in a deserted corner. He opened Ramos’ door and told him to get out, while the other detective hauled me out of the back seat.

  Once I was out of the car, the detective pulled his gun and held it to my head. My knees nearly buckled, but I knew he wasn’t going to pull the trigger, at least not yet, and that helped. He was thinking it was necessary to make sure Ramos didn’t try anything.

  Ramos scowled while Esposito took a small key from his pocket and unlocked his handcuffs. “Here’s the deal. Carson will trade Shelby for the money. If you want to see her alive, I suggest you hurry back and get it. Call Carson, and he’ll tell you where to meet for the exchange.” Esposito stepped away from Ramos and waited for him to walk away.

  Instead, Ramos turned to face Esposito, who instinctively took a step back. “If anything happens to her…if she is harmed in any way…know this, I will hunt you down and kill you.”

  Esposito swallowed. “Just get the money. She’ll be fine.” Ramos stared hard at him, leaving no doubt that he would do it. “I swear it,” Esposito blurted. He was thinking that Ramos was the real deal. He could see death coming for him in those eyes, and it scared the hell out of him.

  Ramos glanced at me, sending a glimpse of regret that this had happened, along with reassurance that he�
��d move heaven and earth to make it right. With that, he slipped away, and the detective holding me holstered his gun and helped me back into the car.

  Esposito could hardly wait to get away from Ramos and jumped into the car, peeling out in record time. I looked out the back window, keeping my gaze glued on Ramos, but lost him as we pulled into traffic. Esposito was thinking Ramos was one scary dude, and he was sorry he’d let Carson talk him into this. The money had seemed worth it then. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

  We drove in subdued silence to our destination. From their thoughts, I knew they were taking me to Carson’s house. He had the latest security installed and several men to watch the place. Esposito was thinking that he might have to stay and watch over me. Mostly to make sure Ramos didn’t come after him. He didn’t quite trust Carson, and he sure didn’t want to get killed over this.

  We pulled into a driveway and followed it to a gated entrance with an eight-foot wall that surrounded the property. After Esposito punched in the code, the gates swung open, and we followed the drive to a large two-story house. In the dark, floodlights illuminated the house and surrounding yard. The house was done in tan stucco with bar tile shingles and stately columns, giving it a Spanish hacienda feel.

  An armed guard stood at the front door, awaiting our arrival. Pulling to a stop, the detective opened my door and helped me out, gentler than he had been previously. I bit back a smile, grateful to know that the wrath of Ramos was now in effect.

  It had worked on these guys at least, but what about Carson? Some part of him must have lost it to think he could double-cross Uncle Joey and live to tell about it. If that was the case, it meant we were dealing with a desperate man who needed money more than life. Or he could just be plain stupid. Either way, this was a bold move. It made me cringe to think how Carson was going to take it when he realized that besides Uncle Joey, all of his associates had it in for him as well. Under these circumstances, his life wasn’t going to last long. Because of that, this was probably the worst place I could be right now, and I sure hoped no one tried to blow up the house before I got out of there.