Instead, she felt herself cradled in a snow cave, wrapped in a blanket and gazing into Cade’s bright blue eyes. All around them was white, and yet, she wasn’t cold. Warmth reflected from the bright shininess of the ice surrounding them, and they were high up on some mountain, cruising on mountain bikes. The pine scent of the air was peppered by the happy barking of a dog bounding beside them. Andie pulled up the front tire of her snow bike and shrieked with delight as she made a sharp turn down a bowl of white powder. The wind bit into her ears, and her hair flew up and around as she sped and jumped through the pristine snow. And then she was falling and laughing and spinning around and around, holding onto Cade—no fear, only joy and the sky a heavenly shade of blue. Love radiated between them, wrapping them in a cloud of lace, strewn with rose petals fluttering and swirling like confetti and frosting. Then she remembered. Cade and Red were lost on Watkin’s Peak in the jungle of moguls. He’d fallen down the face of the mountain.
No, no. I can’t lose you. Come back, come back. She jerked and the sound of the football game blasted through her eardrums—the roar of the crowd and the announcer’s voice. Was it halftime already?
“I’m right here, I gotcha,” Owen said. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Are we late?”
“Just in time. Everything’s going to be great.”
“I dreamed about Cade. We rode bikes in the snow and he got lost. I remember something from before. I met Cade back in Itasca, when it was still snowing.”
Owen rubbed the back of her shoulders. “That’s wonderful. I’ll have you back to Cade tonight, if you want, or tomorrow at the latest.”
“It’s going to be over, isn’t it? The cloud Cade was under since he threw the interception. You know they were still talking about it at the halftime show?”
“That’s why we need to go through with this.” He offered his hand. “You look absolutely breathtaking.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” She let him pull her to her feet. She tugged at the tight, clingy pink dress to stretch it as far down as she could while slipping on a pair of spikey stilettos.
“Here’s your purse. Filled with C-notes. Of course we don’t get to keep any of it.” Owen handed her a Coach bag, one with pink handles and trim over the typical brown and tan “C” pattern.
“Guess they want me to start at the high roller tables.”
“Yep, number four, an unlucky number for a lot of people. It means the table won’t be crammed with looky-loos.”
“I’m not superstitious.” Andie clasped the purse to her side and walked out of the room with Owen. She was getting her memory back, and soon, she’d be playing with a full deck of cards. No one would call her naïve or brain-injured once she pulled off this sting and hopefully brought Barbara back from whoever had kidnapped her.
The lobby of the casino was decked out with colorful fountains and stone water walls. Shops full of expensive items, watches, designer clothing, jewelry, perfume, and luggage lined the gallery of the walkway toward the gaming rooms.
Cash machines lined the marble walls as they approached the banks of screens detailing the winnings for each type of game.
The casino was crowded with lots of foot traffic. Owen and Andie wove their way through the slot machines and between groups of convention goers. The obnoxious cacophony of electronic jingles and pulses chipped away at her veneer of confidence. Add to that the people milling around, some dressed in costumes of superheroes and pussy cats, and others wearing T-shirts identifying themselves as members of a tour group.
They entered the main casino, a playground filled with green felt tables and bodies crammed around them. Overhead lights directed them toward the different games. They walked toward the roulette section. Each table had a score bar showing the last results to give gamblers a false sense of control, as if they could somehow deduce the skew of a particular table.
Paying attention to the minimum bet amount per table, Andie counted four tables from the entrance and put four one-hundred dollar bills on the felt.
The croupier took the money and pressed it flat, giving her four one-hundred dollar chips. His beady eyes lingered on her cleavage as she adjusted herself on the padded chair.
Without dithering around, she placed her first bet on the line between zero and double zero—the numbers where the house takes everyone else’s bet.
The other gamblers eyed her and snickered, taking her for a sucker, since most people played the safer ones.
The croupier started the spin and announced, “No more bets.” The ball tick-tocked around the wheel, bouncing and rattling against the metal bars separating the slots, before settling on a number—thirteen.
Everyone at the table lost, as the croupier gathered the chips. The man next to Andie said, “You should try red or black first. They’re even bets. Win some first before going with the house.”
“I like green.” She lifted an eyebrow and chuckled, placing her second bet at the same spot.
“I can see why,” the man said. “With eyes like emeralds. Okay, I’ll bet with you.”
He placed his chip at the same spot.
The croupier gave Andie a sidelong glance and returned to exchanging chips for cash as another couple approached the table.
Andie glanced over her shoulder for Owen, but he seemed to have disappeared. His job was done, for now, or he was keeping an eye out. She didn’t expect to be approached yet. After all, she’d only placed her first unorthodox bet.
Again, the croupier set the wheel in motion, and with a flick of his wrist, he sent the ball the opposite direction.
Another loss. Andie didn’t care. She took her third chip and pushed it toward the same spot.
The man next to her put his hand over hers. “How about I buy you a drink? A green apple martini.”
The man hadn’t said the magic word yet, but then again, maybe he wanted to string out the drama until her last bet.
Andie shrugged, not trying to be too friendly. “I’m here to win, not to drink.”
“We bet your pretty green eyes and lost already.” The man put his arm around her. “I say you owe me a drink and an aperitif.”
Andie waited for him to say the code word, but since all he wanted to do was leer and pinch, she nudged him, trying to loosen herself. Where was Owen when she needed him?
“I believe this is my seat.” A deep, strong voice sounded as Cade wedged himself between Andie and the lech. “Adios, amigo.”
Every nerve in Andie’s body jumped and her stomach plunged. What was Cade doing here? So handsome and protective. He’d blow her cover.
The slimeball who’d been chatting her up turned away from them.
“Cade, what are you doing here?” Andie tried to keep her voice steady. Gosh, he looked so good and she missed him like heck.
“This isn’t the place for you,” Cade said. “Let’s go.”
“I already placed my bet.”
“Sir, you’re going to have to leave the table unless you’re playing.” The croupier tapped the felt near Cade.
“Fine. I’m playing. What’s the minimum?”
“Five with hundred max,” the man said.
Cade pulled out a hundred dollar bill. “Give me twenty chips.”
“Not exactly the high roller, are you?” Andie jabbed his ribs.
“At least I’m playing with my own money.” He leaned toward her. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
“Shut it. You’re going to blow my cover.”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do. After this spin, we’re going home.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Oh, honey, here’s your drink.” Owen placed a cocktail in front of Andie. “Did you run into an old boyfriend by chance?”
“Funny you should ask.” Andie chuckled and ran her fingers up Owen’s arm. “Cade and I used to date in kindergarten. Remember I told you about him?”
“Hooey, you did.” Owen
pulled his lapels and guffawed. “He was the one who asked if he could stick his finger in your belly button.”
Andie giggled with a loud cackle and threw her hair at Cade. “You had the largest, most wiggly finger I’ve ever had in that itty witty belly button of mine.”
Cade’s lips tightened and his muscles tensed as Owen clapped him over the back. “You must have made one big impression on our little Miss Andie here.”
“No more bets,” the croupier said, glaring at Owen as the ball bounced and skittered to a stop on double zero.
“Double-zero! That’s my number!” Andie clapped and high fived Owen.
The croupier placed the marker on her chip while he collected everyone else’s off the table.
“You win, eighteen to one.” He counted and stacked eighteen chips for Andie. “You gonna bet again?”
“Sure. Let’s do it.” Andie smiled. This was her last bet, and either because of Cade’s interference or the scuzzbucket before him, her ‘contact person’ had not materialized yet.
Following instructions, she placed a single hundred dollar chip on the spot between zero and double zero.
The croupier’s mustache wiggled like he wanted to say something, but he went ahead to stack chips for a new player who took the empty seat on Andie’s right.
It was Ronaldo.
“Bud, what are you doing here?” Cade leaned over. “Is this some field trip or what?”
“He’s busting my cover,” Andie whispered to Owen. “Do something.”
“Hey, kindergarten hottie.” Owen hooked Cade around the neck. “Why don’t me and you take a walk on the wild side.”
Cade’s jaw set and he got that look that said he wasn’t going anywhere. He stacked his chips and placed them next to Andie’s, daring her to protest.
Beside her, Ronaldo said, “You win this next one, and I’ll have you do the remake of Barbarella.”
Andie’s heart stuttered and she froze. Barbarella was the code word. Ronaldo was the contact? Was he working for the Feds or for the crooked gamblers?
Natasha had said not to assume anything. Andie had to trust the process, not think or speculate. She’d already made a mistake by freezing.
“My favorite movie,” Owen said to distract everyone. “I always had a thing for Jane Fonda.”
“It’s goofy, but then so is winning on green numbers,” Ronaldo said with a careless shrug.
“Luck of the Irish,” Andie muttered just to say something.
“No more bets.” The croupier looked around the table let the wheel go.
This time, Andie’s heart raced and her hands got sweaty. Cade was risking his money, although it was only a hundred dollars. But more seriously, had he just compromised the entire sting operation? Would her handlers call for an abort? Or should she go along with Ronaldo to the private high roller room—otherwise known as Whale Stadium.
Her eyes remained on the pearl colored ball, her heart ticking like the toc, toc, toc, as it bounced while the wheel clattered. As it slowed, she jumped up and grabbed her hair. It had stopped on zero. She’d won.
“Impossible.” The skeeze who’d been harassing her earlier shouted from somewhere among the spectators.
“We won.” She hugged Owen. “Oh, this is the best part of our honeymoon.”
Cade sat stock still, staring at Ronaldo, clearly upset at the entire scenario. Andie had to get away, and fast.
Without collecting her winnings, she handed her purse to Owen. “I’m feeling sick. Gotta run to the little girls’ room.”
She slipped between the spectators right when Owen sloshed her drink all over Cade.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me clean you up. This is so embarrassing. Wait, wait.” Owen was clearly giving his best show, but it wasn’t working.
Cade was after her, and she had to get away before he blew it for the entire operation.
“Andie, Andie.” Cade’s footsteps pounded behind her.
“Over here.” Ronaldo grabbed her arm, and jerked her toward the bank of slot machines. “The private elevator.”
Andie tottered along with Ronaldo, wishing she could remove her shoes and run. Her ankle twisted and she slipped on the marble floor.
Ronaldo flashed a badge of some sort, and the doorman opened the elevator. Right as the doors opened, and Andie was being pushed in by Ronaldo, a large hand grabbed her hair.
It was Cade. “Andie, don’t do this. Don’t go with him.”
Ronaldo shoved Cade, and the doorman pushed the door close button.
“Let go.” Andie screamed, as three security guards grabbed Cade from behind.
The door closed and her hair was caught.
A searing pain slashed across Andie’s scalp as a clump of hair was torn from her.
She clapped her hand on the bleeding spot and collapsed to her knees. The transmitter was gone, falling down the elevator shaft while she was going up to the private game room—alone with Ronaldo—a man who could be the biggest crook of all.
“Are you okay?” Ronaldo dabbed her head with a monogrammed handkerchief. “You still up for playing?”
“Of course I am.”
“Good.” He appeared too serious to be the Ronaldo she knew. What the heck was he up to now?
Chapter Fifteen
“Andie, Andie!” Cade surged from the grasp of the security guards and pounded on the closed elevator doors.
“Cade, cool it.” Owen tapped him. “You’re screwing everything up.”
A raging tide welled up from Cade’s gut, and he turned on Owen. “What the heck are you guys up to? Tell me now.”
“Not in here,” Owen hissed, his eyes darting at the gawking bystanders. “You have to calm down.”
“Fine, but you’re telling me everything.”
Owen guided Cade from the main casino floor and out the lobby. “We don’t have that much time before I have to be back in the hotel room and finish playing newlyweds.”
“Why you—” Cade grabbed Owen by the lapels.
“Stop the macho alpha male bullshit.” Owen brushed Cade’s hands from his suit jacket. “It’s to throw off the bad guys. Andie and I are working with the FBI.”
“No, no. This can’t be happening. She’s in danger. Tell me how to get up there.”
“I don’t know. We have to trust the agents. They have a listening device on her and they’ll move in if they have to. Don’t worry. They’re professionals.”
Cade’s skin prickled white hot and he felt like ripping it off. How could he stand around and do nothing while Ronaldo was taking Andie to meet the kingpin of the operation?
“Did you know Ronaldo was a part of this?” he asked Owen.
“No, they don’t let us know these things. Keeps it safer so we don’t give anything away.” Owen checked his watch. “Why don’t we go to the bar and watch the game?”
“Don’t tell me Andie’s part of the gambling ring.”
“You got it. There’s someone on the team who’s transmitting bets from the field. These last two minute bets are the most lucrative if the score swings drastically. Most of the time, they don’t pay off, since the game’s a snooze fest, but when something wild happens to the spread …” Owen spread his hands wide and wiggled his fingers. “Whoohoo!”
“They’re putting Andie in danger. How do you know they won’t hurt her?” Cade gripped his fists until his knuckles cracked.
“They won’t. Someone high up in the organization vouched for her. They called her, but we were already prepared. We set up the deal with the FBI ahead of time.”
“When did you do this? I can’t believe Andie didn’t tell me.” Cade felt a riptide of emotions churn in his chest. “I’ll kill you if she doesn’t come out of this.”
“Calm, calm.” Owen led the way into one of the sports bars. “It was Andie’s idea to talk to your sister and see what she knew. From there, all we had to do was contact the FBI and let them know we had an ‘in’ to the organization. Since she was dating you, and you’r
e a prominent member of the team, the baddies probably thought she was good as gold.”
“She’d better be okay.” Cade slumped himself onto a barstool. “What do you know about Ronaldo?”
“Hey, I was just as surprised to see him as you were.”
“Well, I’m calling him. He’s already seen me, and I’m sure they know by now that Andie’s doing this without my approval. I can’t see how it would blow her cover.” Cade took out his phone and punched in the speed dial number for his one-time mentor and buddy.
There was no answer. Dammit. Why had he expected Ronaldo to be on his side?
* * *
Andie’s heart was fit to burst from her ribcage. Ronaldo pulled on a pair of dark glasses and did not make eye contact. He acted as if he didn’t know her. Was he on the Fed’s side or was he with the crooks? There was no telling, and now that she’d lost her voice activated recorder, she was on her own.
The elevator opened into a dimly lit suite at the top of the casino. Smooth jazz played through the sound system. In the background, the rattle of chips, cards, and bouncing roulette balls filled in the space between the low mutter of conversation interspersed with the clink of cocktail glasses.
Ronaldo steered Andie away from the gambling tables and pushed her into a corridor. A man standing guard opened the door to a room full of …
Andie blinked, her eyes adjusting to the redness throughout the room. It looked more like a torture chamber than a bedroom, although prominent in the middle of the room was a bedlike structure covered with blood-red velvet. She gulped at the racks full of whips, chains, belts, and hooks. Some kind of pulley mechanism hung from an iron beam over the center of the bed.
“Wait, this wasn’t what I signed up for,” Andie protested, as Ronaldo shoved her into the room. “I was supposed to play at a whale table. Hundred thousand dollar chips.”
Ronaldo’s hand cupped over Andie’s mouth, and he shoved her onto the bed. Andie’s scream was cut off by a sash tight across her mouth. Visions of razor blades, knives, and blood clouded her with terror as she thrashed on the bed, whipping her head back and forth and scratching and kicking.
Intercepted by Love: Part Five: A Football Romance (The Quarterback's Heart Book 5) Page 9