Deadly Odds

by Adrienne Giordano

  The woman had so many sides. Hot, cold, hot again. Made him insane. Always would. Should have stayed with the plan of not mixing business and pleasure.

  Too late now.

  He angled around her, headed for the door.

  “I guess we’re done here?” she said.

  Ha. As pissed as he was, he needed to get out of there. Before he did or said anything else that would escalate the situation.

  He didn’t want to fight with her and staying here, looking at that stunning face? He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t stay calm. And that’s what he needed. To take a minute, get his thoughts—and the damned emotions he shouldn’t have let get involved in the first place—in order. In the span of a few days, his world had unraveled.

  Didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He was simply not a man who could mix business and pleasure. And Kate was definitely both.

  As much as it killed him, as much as his damned body, even now, craved her, he wouldn’t let his career disintegrate.

  One thing at a time.

  His goal now would be to save his job.

  And forget Kate.

  He reached the door, ripped it open. “Yeah, Kate. We’re done.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  At 4:59—yes, she’d been checking the time every thirty seconds—Kate sat in the executive conference room, her head high, her face completely neutral. Not a frown line to be seen while she waited for Ross and Don to make their appearance.

  Marcia—not Ross—had sent her a text alerting her to a newly scheduled meeting to begin at five sharp and Kate assumed it would be regarding her Mrs. Miller theory.

  In one minute she’d know. Assuming Ross and Don planned on starting this meeting on time.

  The door came open and Don hustled in. He’d ditched his suit jacket and his dress shirt had a few wrinkles down the front where his belly protruded.

  If he didn’t have a heart attack soon, she’d be stunned.

  “Red, you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  He tossed his hands in the air on his way to the serving cart loaded with coffee, an assortment of soft drinks, fruit and various baked goods.

  “I’m not sure. And don’t even think about the croissant. Those things are loaded with fat.”

  Again he waved his hand, shooing her away. “I’ll have some fruit with it. It’ll cancel out the fat.”

  In spite of her foul mood, Kate laughed. “In your dreams, friend. Where’s Ross?”

  “I heard him on the phone in his office. Marcia is trying to get his ass moving. What’s this meeting?”

  “You haven’t talked to him?”

  “Sure. Talked to him plenty. I still don’t know what this goddamn meeting is about. I also know you caught that crazy Mrs. Miller possibly hanging around a cheat.”

  “Possibly. Which is why I thought it prudent to keep an eye on her. An idea Mr. Cooper found objectionable.”

  He let out a low whistle. “Mr. Cooper? You lovebirds had a fight.”

  Don set his plate on the table directly across from her along with his napkin and silverware and dropped his ample body into the chair. “I can’t take this shit. Things are nuts enough around here without this soap opera drama.”

  The conference room door came open again and Ross entered, his gaze going straight to Don. “I heard that.”

  Don shrugged while Kate tracked Ross’s movements. He took the seat at the end of the table. The one where he wouldn’t have to face her.

  So this is how it would be?

  “Marcia got food,” Don said. “Love that girl. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s good.”

  Ross flipped his portfolio open, gave his pen a loud click.

  She spun her chair to face him and tapped the table. Come on fella, look at me.

  Look at her he did and nothing about it resembled the man she’d rolled around a bed with.

  How had they gotten to this place so quickly?

  “Kate,” he said, his stare measuring a solid ten on the hardness scale. “I was told by Samuels that you had a plan. Tell us what it is and we’ll execute it.”

  And wasn’t that the thing she’d wanted? For him to go along with her.

  Unfortunately, they’d gotten there in a rotten way.

  “Hokay then.” Don finished his snack, wiped his hands and mouth and sat back. “Let’s get this over with. I got work to do. Jesus, I could slap you two.”

  At that moment, Kate should have launched into defensive maneuvers, somehow convincing Don it was simply a misunderstanding. A simple difference of opinion they’d work out.

  Really though, she didn’t have it in her.

  “I actually agree with you.” She spun her chair back to the table, flipped a page on her notepad where she’d made notes. “Mrs. Miller. Based on what I saw on the video, she’s been present three of the four times Reegs played at tables that were short. In my experience, it warrants keeping an eye on her.”

  Don jotted a note. “I’ll put someone on her. The second she steps into the casino, we’re with her. What else?”

  “The dealer we suspect of doing the false shuffle. What happened with him?”

  “Nothing yet,” Don said. “I called him. He’s either ducking me or in a coma. He’s due on shift tomorrow morning.”

  Kate raised her gaze to the ceiling and begged for patience. “That’s actually good. If you question him, he might panic. If nothing else, it’ll tip him off. I think we wait for Mrs. Miller to show up and then move the suspected dealer to her table. See if he does another false shuffle.”

  From his spot at the end of the table, Ross leveled her with a hot look. “Now you want to do a sting op? If we suspect them of cheating, we call the Gaming Commission. State law. I’ve already given them a heads up. We could turn this thing over to them right now.”

  Don held up a hand. “We can do that too. I like this idea. We’ll get ’em both at once. What’s your problem?”

  “Aside from her son being one of our whales?”

  “Fuck the whale. We could lose our ass on this woman.”

  Ross shook his head, tossed his pen onto his notepad. “I don’t agree with this.”

  Of course he didn’t. Had she had a personal relationship with the woman, a fondness for her that spanned years, Kate wouldn’t like it either. “I’m sorry. And I understand. Truly, I didn’t mean for this to get contentious.”

  Ross slid his gaze to Don, then back to Kate, his face taut, his cheeks hollowed like carved wood. So darned stubborn.

  He met her gaze again. “I’m taking myself out of the equation. You two handle this. Does that work?”

  Don shrugged. “Sure.”

  Ross slapped his portfolio closed, hopped from his chair, his shoulders once again back, that perfect physique hustling from the room.

  Shaking her head, Kate glanced over at Don and held her hands out. “How do I fix this? Dev went to Samuels about Mrs. Miller. I specifically asked him not to and he agreed. I can’t control what my boss does.”

  “He’s a schmuck.”

  Kate snorted. “He is indeed. But now Ross won’t listen to reason.”

  “Eh. He’s stubborn. And, if I know this kid at all, he’s pissed at himself. He got emotional about business. He’s not equipped for that. Give him a day to cool off. When he does, he’ll get his head back on straight. And if we find this crazy old woman robbing us, he’ll have no choice.”

  “He thinks I manipulated him.”

  Don leaned forward, gripped her wrist. His hand was warm, comforting in place of the deep freeze Ross had put her in.

  “Sweetheart, all due respect, you two doing whatever you’ve been doing? Bad decision. You both knew it.”

  Yes. They did.

  “But now you’re here and we gotta work through it. All of us. Ross’ll be all right. Give him a day. It’ll be better tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Before heading into his office, Ross stopped at Marcia’s desk. She held a clipboard in front of him an
d he signed pages as she summed up each request. God help him, he could be signing his life away.

  Years of working together had formed a finely tuned machine. By now she knew how much he’d allow a staff member to comp, which whales were entitled to what and when he shouldn’t be bothered with tedious details. He always had the final say, but she excelled at giving him the summation.

  In short, he trusted her. Something that didn’t come easily. At least until he met Kate. He’d trusted her way too soon and here they were in Major Mistake Land.

  Don walked out of the conference room, bearing down on him like a tiger on the hunt.

  “Got a sec?”

  When Don asked anyone if they had a sec, it meant one thing. A verbal ass-kicking.

  And Ross had had enough of that in the last two days.

  “Not really.”

  “Too bad.” Don jerked his head toward Ross’s office.

  Marcia snatched the clipboard away. “We can finish the rest later. Go talk to him. I’ll stall your appointment.” She peered around Ross. “Don, you’ve got five minutes and I’m sending his next one in.”

  “Thanks,” Ross whispered.

  “Forget that. I won’t have your reworked schedule destroyed again.”

  Ross followed Don into the office and closed the door before taking his seat behind his desk. Don remained standing. A typical power play move. “What do you need?”

  “How about you getting your head out of your ass.”

  “Sure. I’ll work on that. What’s next?”

  “What happened, bubbie? Kate leave a quarter on your pillow?”

  Whenever Ross moved on from a woman, Don liked to make jokes that Ross ended it by leaving a quarter on her pillow. As if to pay her for her services and be gone.

  Overall, it annoyed the crap out of him. But he chalked it up to one of those battles not worth fighting.

  Ross sat back. “If you’re done, I’m busy.”

  “Yeah, right.” He waggled a finger. “Listen up. Don’t be stupid. Three marriages taught me hard lessons. Spotting a good woman is one of ’em. Kate’s a good woman and you’re fucking it up.”

  That’s it. Game over. “I’m fucking it up? She screwed me.”

  “You don’t believe that.”

  “I don’t have to believe it. I know it. I didn’t like her idea and she took it over my head. I mean, why would an old woman who has more money than she knows how to spend risk jail time? It’s nonsense.”

  “Kid, this is Vegas. Nothing is out of the question.”

  Ross locked his jaw, bit down hard enough for pain to shoot through his teeth. Survival with Don meant staying in control. “What you’re doing? It won’t work. Kate knows her boss. Just like we know Bob. When she had that conversation, she knew what would happen.”

  “Bullshit.”

  More than done and refusing to get sucked in, Ross shrugged. “Marcia! Send my next one in.”

  Don let out a breathy laugh. “Kid, I gave you more credit than this. Guess I was wrong. But it’s not my problem if you want to be a dumbass and let this girl get away. Hell, I should be happy. Maybe I’ll make a move on her myself. There’s a certain chemistry between us.”

  Ha. Sure. Good one. Before he’d let that happen, Ross would cut off both his arms.

  “Ross?” Marcia said from the doorway. “Mr. Abrams for you.”

  “Thank you, Marcia.” He looked up at Don. “Don was just leaving.”

  * * *

  “There she is.”

  Kate sat in the surveillance room watching Mrs. Miller approach mini-bac 18, obviously one of her favorite tables due to the amount of time she spent at it.

  Immediately, Kate texted Don. He been checking in every fifteen minutes and just generally driving her insane since their rather tension filled meeting adjourned the day before. The night had been a long one. Between the headache, her bruised ribs and her varying degrees of anger and hurt over the Ross situation, she needed to get this assignment wrapped up and go home. Back to her quiet townhouse and normal routine.

  Maybe she’d even take a week off and visit her family at the ranch. Enjoy her mother’s cooking and riding her horse. Fresh air, good food, lots of laughs.

  All after Operation Ross Is Mad At Kate was over. If nothing else, it was forward progress. She cared for Ross, but she wouldn’t be treated this way. He’d condemned her before even giving her a chance to explain. Before thinking that perhaps, just maybe, she wouldn’t do that to him. Before having any faith in her at all.

  All because of his ego.

  And that was unacceptable.

  Always.

  “Whatcha got, Kate?”

  She turned. Don walked toward her, his round body moving at a clip. For a man thirty pounds overweight, he could move when he wanted to.

  “Mrs. Miller. Mini-bac 18.”

  “Shit. Epstein just went to another table.”

  Karl Epstein, the dealer they suspected of doing the false shuffle.

  “Of course he did.”

  And how she wanted to be down on the casino floor, sitting at that table observing. But if the dealer knew who she was, if he recognized the consultant that by now the staff was buzzing about, she’d risk blowing their scheme.

  “Hang on,” Don punched at his phone. “We’ll move him again. Yeah, kid,” he said into the phone. “Move Epstein back to mini-bac 18. Your whale’s mother just showed up…. Yeah…awright.” He ended the call. “Ross’ll take care of it.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I talked to him for you.”

  He what? No, no, noooo, he did not discuss her and Ross’s personal relationship. Please, no. Horror complete, she gawked at him. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

  “I know. But I’m too old for this shit. I need him sharp. He’s no good to me like this. And if he’s stupid enough to let you get away, he’s a dead loss.”

  Kate grinned up at him. “You know, you really are sort of irresistible. It’s a wonder there’s only been three wives.”

  “Wanna be number four?”

  She laughed. “No. Thank you though. And I appreciate you trying with Ross.” She squeezed his wrist. “But stay out of it. He and I will deal with it. One way or another.”

  Don gestured to the bank of monitors on the wall. “Here we go. Dealer switch.”

  Behind him, the room’s door opened and in strode Ross, looking his usual pristine self, hair in perfect order, jacket buttoned, tie-knot a step above perfection. Kate felt a low squeeze in her belly. Even when mad at him, he affected her.

  It was all just…wrong. The argument, her twisted attraction to a man she had no business being attracted to, all of it, simply wrong.

  “Right on time,” Don said. “We’re about to see what this broad is up to.”

  Kate glanced over at Wally, one of the surveillance guys seated two down. “Can we zoom in tighter on the shuffle?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Don poked at the four foot screen on the wall. “And then split that screen on the big monitor. I want to see player two’s hands.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Seconds later the dealer and Mrs. Miller appeared on both monitors. Kate leaned in to study the smaller version while Don and Ross focused on the overhead one.

  “Wally,” she said, “would you please zoom out on this other monitor so we can see the entire table.”

  “Sure.”

  An overhead view of the table appeared on the third monitor. Kate glanced at it, but went back to the monitor directly in front of her while the dealer shuffled.

  “Was the shuffle clean?” Don asked.

  “I think so. Hard to tell. Keep an eye on things while I look again.”

  On her monitor, she rewound the video, let it play again.

  “Oh, crap.” This from Ross.

  She looked up. “What?”

  “She just tapped.” Ross pointed at the screen where Mrs. Miller sat with her arms folded on the table, fingers resting again
st her forearms. “Wally, back that up. Watch her index finger. Right hand. It’s a small movement.”

  And there it was, the slightest of taps. And all at once, the energy in the room exploded.

  “Wide view,” Don hollered. “Physical office. She’s signaling to someone.”

  On the screen next to Kate, Wally zoomed out bringing mini-bac 18 and the two surrounding tables into view. Right there. Kate tapped the screen where a man stood on the far side of mini-bac 18 observing play. With a direct sightline to Mrs. Miller. “Him. Who is he?”

  “No idea,” Ross said. “We’ll get someone on him. If he’s been playing and goes to the cages, snatch him up. I wanna talk to him.”

  Don beelined for the door. “I’m going myself.”

  Kate watched as the next hand was dealt. “There!” She leaped from her chair, all that contained energy spewing, forcing her to move. “She did it again. And look. His lips moved.” She spun to Ross. “Did you see it? Wally, back that up.”

  Ross’s gaze ricocheted from one monitor to the next. “She’s signaling and he’s transmitting. Son of a bitch.”

  Oldest game in town. One person signals to another and the other person relays the order of the cards to someone else. Possibly at the table. The simplicity of it was almost ridiculous yet so effective, even under state-of-the-art security measures.

  Ross leaned over, scooped the handset off the desk and dialed. “It’s Ross. Our guy down there might be transmitting the order of the cards. Either that or he’s talking to himself. When you get down there, snatch him up and bring him to one of the holding rooms. I’ll meet you there.”

  He disconnected and headed for the door. “Kate, if Mrs. Miller moves from that table, let me know. If she cashes out, we’re screwed.”

  * * *

  Forty minutes later, after notifying the Gaming Commission they had a situation, Ross walked into one of the secure holding rooms on the ground level of the casino where they’d escorted the suspected relay man.

  Don stood on one side of the room, casually leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets. The room itself was a no-frills, white-washed deal with an equally no-frills industrial table and four chairs. Two on each side. In the corner, an overhead camera complete with audio caught everything. Since the 80s casinos were required to record all sessions with potential cheats, eliminating any opportunity for a he said, she said.