by Cassie Miles
He killed the headlights and turned to her. “If you want, you can stay in the car. I don’t expect this to take too long.”
Pulling off an undercover identity was daunting, but she wanted to do it. The best way to understand Cole was to see him in action. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
As they walked through the crisp night to the casino that appeared to be in a renovated barn, she noticed his sense of humor falling away from him. His posture shifted. His shoulders seemed wider. His height, more impressive.
Trying to match his cool attitude, she narrowed her eyes to a squint. Agent Rocky Logan is on the job. Bad guys, beware.
The interior of the casino was similar to an Old West saloon. Rows of slot machines blinked and made clinking noises as though money was pouring out of them. In truth, there were only a few people at the slots. Most of the patrons were huddled around the poker tables.
Cole strode up to the bar. He ordered a couple of beers and asked the bartender—who sported an old-fashioned handlebar mustache—where he could find the old man, Xavier Romero. “Tell him Calvin Spade wants to talk.”
The bartender left his post and went through an unmarked door at the rear of the casino. Her apprehension was turning into full-blown anxiety. Her hand trembled as she lifted the beer to her lips. What if Xavier was calling the cops? What if Baron’s armed thugs charged out of the back room?
Cole gave her arm a nudge. When she looked up at him, she saw a flash of the familiar Cole—the guy she knew and trusted. He gave her a wink. “It’s going to be all right.”
She wanted to believe him, but she’d used those very words often when she was dealing with a difficult labor. It’s going to be all right. An empty reassurance. The pain always got worse before it got better.
When the bartender returned, a short man with white hair and black-rimmed glasses trotted at his heels. He was solidly built but light on his feet. He came to a stop in front of Cole and did a two-fisted handshake. When he smiled, she saw the gleam of a gold tooth.
“It’s been a long time.” Xavier’s voice was a whisper. He swung toward her. “Who’s the broad?”
“My associate, Rocky Logan,” Cole said. “This is Xavier Romero.”
He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Charmed. When he says ‘associate’ does he mean you’re—”
“We work at the same place,” Cole said. “I want to talk to you in private.”
Xavier stepped back and gave them both a golden grin. “Take a look around, buddy boy. Finally got my own place. And it’s legit.”
“The Stampede,” Cole said drily. “I never figured you for a cowboy-themed casino.”
“Yippee-ki-yay.”
Cole said, “I didn’t come to talk about the decor.”
“We had some good times, you and me. Remember that Texas Hold ’em tournament in Culver City? When I was dating that sweet little redheaded dealer?”
“Didn’t come to reminisce, either.”
“You were always impatient. Good things come to those who wait. I’m living proof. Seventy years old, and my dream finally comes true.”
If she hadn’t known that Xavier was involved with Baron and in the midst of a scheme to defraud his insurance company, she would have liked the old man.
Cole pushed away from the bar. “We’ll go to your office. Giddyap.”
Though she thought he was being unnecessarily rude, Rachel fell into step behind him. There wasn’t enough room between the tables and the slot machines to walk side by side. Xavier hustled to the front of their little parade. He used a key card to open the door and ushered them into a wide hallway with paneled walls and framed sepia photographs of old-time Black Hawk and the gold rush prospectors who populated the town.
The door to his office was open, and Xavier guided them inside. In addition to his cluttered desk, there were a couple of leather sofas and an octagonal poker table covered in green felt. The scent of cigar smoke hung in the air, and she suspected that smoking wasn’t the only law that had been broken in this room.
The overhead light, unlike the dimness of the casino, showed a road map of wrinkles on Xavier’s face. He sat at the poker table and picked up a deck of cards. “Have a seat.”
Cole positioned himself facing the door. “Tell me how you know Baron.”
Xavier shuffled the cards with stunning expertise. “Let’s play a little five-card stud. No reason we can’t be civilized while we talk.”
“The last time I played you,” Cole said, “I won.”
“Give me a chance to get even. If you win again, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
Cole took the cards from his hand and passed them to her. “Rocky deals.”
She knew how to play poker but wasn’t an expert. If Cole was expecting her to cheat and give him winning cards, he’d be sorely disappointed. She cut the cards twice and palmed the deck. “Five cards, facedown.”
Xavier fixed her with a steady gaze. “Have you been with Calvin long?”
Calvin? Oh, yeah, that was Cole’s alias. “Long enough,” she said as she dealt.
He tapped his gold tooth with the tip of his index finger. Unlike his weathered face, his hands were smooth. His fingernails, buffed to perfection. “I’m surprised,” he said, “to see Calvin with a partner. He usually works alone.”
“Things change,” Cole said.
“Indeed.” Xavier chuckled. “I used to be a petty crook. Now I’m a casino owner.”
“Hard to believe that a wheeler-dealer like you is completely legit.” He glanced at his cards and turned them facedown on the table. “How did you put together the money to open this place?”
“I know people.”
“Baron?”
Xavier checked his cards, pulled out two and slid them toward her. “Hit me.”
Cole held up his hand, indicating that he didn’t need any more cards. “I’m thinking that you might have used property for collateral to raise cash. A house near Shadow Mountain Lake.”
“Or maybe I gambled big in the big game, the stock market. And maybe I was smart enough to get out before the crash.” Xavier’s wrinkles settled into an expressionless poker face. “If you win this hand, I’ll tell you one fact. Then we can play for another and—”
“All or nothing,” Cole said. “You don’t have much time. All I want is information on Baron. The feds that are going to show up here after me won’t be so gentle.”
“You? Gentle?” He shook his head. “If I win this hand, you tell me what you know. Then get the hell out.”
“I don’t lose.” Cole’s hands on the table were steady. His deep-set eyes radiated confidence. “I’ll tell you this for free. Your house near Shadow Mountain Lake was being used as a hideout. People were killed there.”
Xavier blinked. “The idiots who robbed my place?”
“The gang was at your house. Not even the dumbest pencil-pushing fed is going to believe that was a coincidence. You were in on the robbery.”
“This isn’t happening.” The old man shook his head slowly. “You’re lying. Trying to bluff me.”
“Not this time.”
Cole turned over his cards. Full house, jacks over tens.
Chapter Eighteen
The only sure way to win at poker was to cheat, and Cole had been learning card tricks from his less-than-holy father before he could read and write. When he’d taken the deck from Xavier, straightened the edges and passed it to Rachel, he’d palmed the cards necessary to play a winning hand.
A simple move. Cole assumed Xavier had been planning to deal himself a winner from the bottom of the deck, so he took those five cards. Voilà! A full house.
Winning was convenient, but he didn’t really need that nudge. Xavier was ready to talk; the threat of an FBI investigation into his connection to known criminals had already loosened his lips. He readily admitted that he’d been in touch with Baron when he set up his initial financing. Further, he said that he’d agreed to the casino robbery, know
ing that he could claim his missing cash from the insurance company.
“Then everything went wrong,” Xavier said. “One of my moron security guards—a guy who’s usually asleep in a back room—got trigger happy. Somebody else pulled the alarm.”
Cole knew how badly the robbery had been botched. He’d been there. “On the surface, the shoot-out makes it look like you double-crossed Baron.”
“It wasn’t my fault. I swear it.”
Having experienced Baron’s wrath when his men peppered the Shadow Mountain Lake house with bullets, Cole was surprised that Xavier wasn’t already dead. “There’s another piece to the robbery. You’re running an insurance scam of your own. You put in a claim for double the amount that was stolen.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Xavier’s poker face crumpled. “There’s only one way you could know how much was stolen. You were part of the gang.”
In order to extract information, Cole needed to balance truth with deception. He had to apply the right amount of pressure and not show his own disadvantages.
Leaning across the table toward Xavier, he said, “You weren’t surprised to see me when I walked in the door. You already knew I was one of the robbers. The feds have already sent you my mug shot.”
A twitch at the corner of Xavier’s mouth confirmed the statement. He knew.
Cole continued, “I infiltrated the gang. I was working undercover.”
Though confident in his ability to manipulate the old man, Cole had a weak spot, and her name was Special Agent Rocky Logan. Rachel had already told him that she was a lousy liar. He couldn’t predict what she’d say.
Apparently, Xavier realized the same thing. He turned toward her and glared through his thick glasses. “What about you, pretty lady? Where do you fit in?”
She narrowed her big blue eyes to a squint—an expression that she probably thought made her look tough. Cole thought she was adorable.
“I advise you to listen to my partner,” she said. “He’s trying to help you.”
“Is he?”
Cole said, “I’ve got a soft spot when it comes to you, Xavier. A long time ago, you pointed me in the right direction. Do the same thing now. Tell me about Baron.”
Xavier leaned back in his chair. “I’ve never met the man in person. I couldn’t ID him if he walked through the door right now. And I don’t know where he lives. When I talked to him on the phone, the calls were untraceable.”
“It’s hard to believe you set up complicated financial dealings without a meeting.”
“His secretary handled the paperwork.”
Secretary? “You met the secretary?”
“Sure did, but I can’t give you a good description. She was wearing a wig and a ton of makeup. Nice breasts, though. She showed plenty of cleavage.”
The makeup sounded like Penny. She applied it with a trowel. “How about her age?”
“The older I get,” Xavier said, “the younger the ladies look to me. I’d guess that she was in her thirties.”
“When did you see her last?”
“A couple of weeks ago. She was with a pregnant woman.”
Therefore, the secretary was not Penny. Then who? Cole had been part of the gang at that time, but he’d never come to Black Hawk with Penny. A memory clicked in the back of his mind: Pearl had mentioned meeting her daughter here.
Was Penny’s mother working for Baron? He didn’t want to believe that he’d been so blinded by guilt about Penny’s murder that he’d handed over the baby to another crook. When he’d looked into Pearl’s eyes, he hadn’t seen a hint of deception. She’d been heartbroken about her daughter’s death and ecstatic about her new grandbaby. “Did she wear jewelry? Maybe a string of pearls.”
Rachel gasped. If she hadn’t been thinking of Pearl, she was now.
Xavier pointed to his nicely manicured hands. “Just an engagement ring. A diamond. Not too flashy.”
That didn’t sound like Penny’s mother. She hadn’t been wearing an engagement ring when they saw her. Who was this mystery woman? Finding her was the key to finding Baron.
“I played square with you,” Xavier said. “What are you going to do to help me?”
“I suggest you call your insurance company and tell them you made a mistake about the amount of money stolen. They haven’t made a payout yet. They might let you off the hook.”
“Or refuse to pay.” Behind his glasses, his eyes darkened. “I need that money to keep going. The whole gang is dead except for you. If you could see your way clear to—”
“Can’t do it,” Cole said. “We have the loot.”
The lie slipped easily off his tongue. But Rachel wasn’t so calm. She fidgeted.
And Xavier noticed her nervous move. He zeroed in on her. “Do you? Have the money?”
Before she could stammer out an unconvincing answer, Cole rose from the green felt table. “We’re going.”
Rachel dropped the cards and stood. Her hands were trembling.
“You don’t have the cash,” Xavier said. “Baron’s procedure is to get the money away from the robbers as soon as possible so they won’t get greedy.”
“We know where it is,” Rachel said. “In a safe place.”
The old man sprang to his feet with shocking agility for a man of his years. “Take me with you. If I can turn in the money and prove that I’m working with the good guys, I could get out of this okay.”
“Not a chance,” Cole said.
“For old times’ sake,” he pleaded. “We’ve got history together. I know your friends. Whatever happened to your buddy from Vegas? That old guy named McClure?”
Moving swiftly and deliberately, Cole came around the table and took Rachel’s arm. As soon as he touched her, he knew he’d made a mistake. Xavier would see that his relationship to her was more than a professional association.
He rushed her toward the door. To Xavier, he said, “I’ll take care of you.”
Instead of making their way through the tables and slot machines in the front of the casino, Cole went to the rear. He pulled Rachel with him through a back door, setting off a screeching alarm.
They ran to Loughlin’s Jeep, dove inside and pulled out of the parking lot. As they were driving away, he saw the local police converge on the Stampede casino.
* * *
RACHEL HELD HER BREATH as Cole eased out of the casino parking lot with his headlights dark. How could he see? Moonlight wasn’t enough.
Sensing a turn, he whipped onto a side road that led past a row of houses. He turned again and headed uphill. The headlights flashed on. He took another turn and another, still climbing. Without snow on the road, his driving skills were expert but scary. She averted her gaze so she couldn’t see the speedometer as he fishtailed around a hairpin turn and started a descent. He flew down the narrow canyon road as fast as an alpine skier on the last run of the day.
Across an open field, he drove into forested land. The tall pine trees closed around them, and he slowed.
She exhaled. “How many times in your life have you made dramatic getaways?”
“Often.”
Her heart thumped so furiously that she thought her rib cage might explode. Her fingers clenched in a knot. Her skin prickled with an excess of adrenaline. Clearly, she wasn’t cut out for undercover work.
Not like Cole. He didn’t show the least sign of nervousness. Not now. And not in the casino. The whole time he’d been baiting Xavier, his aura of cool confidence had been unshaken. “How do you do this?”
“Not very well,” he muttered.
“You’re kidding, right? You were like an old-time riverboat gambler. Sooooo smooth. Always one step ahead, even in that weird poker game. You cheated, right?”
“Yeah.”
“If I wasn’t familiar with the facts, I wouldn’t have known when you were lying and when you were telling the truth. How did you learn to bluff like that?”
“Blame it on genetics. When I first j
oined the FBI, one of the shrinks told me that I was uniquely suited to undercover work because of my innate behavioral makeup. He gave me a battery of tests, including a lie detector, which I faked out.”
“Not surprised,” she muttered.
“It seems that I’m a natural born risk-seeker. Most people are risk-averse, more cautious.”
“That would be me,” she said.
“Not from what you’ve told me about your boyfriends.”
“Okay, maybe I have a risk-seeking lapse when it comes to men. But I’m careful in every other area.”
“Being an EMT? Riding in an ambulance?”
“I left that work.” Because she couldn’t stand the pain of failure. “In every other way, I’m careful.”
“And yet, you’re riding in a getaway car. You could have backed out at the Loughlins’, but you chose to come with me.”
She had to admit that he had a point. They weren’t total opposites but definitely not peas in a pod. For one thing, she couldn’t tell a convincing lie to save her life. “The way you handled Xavier was amazing. You played him.”
“But I slipped up,” he said. “When we were leaving the room, I took your arm. That’s not the kind of gesture I’d use with another FBI agent. And you can bet that Xavier saw that I wanted to protect you. He’s no dummy. The old guy knows you’re important to me.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It’s a tell,” he said. “Like in poker. You never want your opponents to know what you’re thinking. I let him see that you’re important to me.”
In a way, she was touched. In spite of the con, he couldn’t keep himself from responding to her. She looked down at her lap and pried her fingers apart. Then she reached toward him. When her hand touched his smoothly shaven cheek, he glanced toward her and grinned.
In that instant of eye contact, she saw his defenses slip away. He really did care about her. She whispered, “What are we going to do for the rest of the night?”
“There are plenty of hotels in Black Hawk and Central City, but they’re well-run and organized. The desk clerks might have my photo posted in front of their computers, especially after our escape from the Stampede.”