Page 12 of Secrets in the Dark

The computer chimed.

Low-confidence match (37% probability): Thomas "Tommy Lace" Licata

I straightened, pulse quickening. Tommy Lace was the younger brother of Vincent Licata—the capo our task force had tracked for the past eighteen months. The Licata family's tentacles reached into every corner of Vegas vice: loan sharking, protection rackets, prostitution, and increasingly, money laundering through legitimate businesses.

Including, we suspected, the Jade Petal.

I expanded the profile, absorbing details I already knew but needed to confirm. Thomas Licata, thirty years old, known associate of the Licata crime family. Last documented sighting: fourteen months ago at his brother's arraignment. Currently missing, presumed operating under alias.

I enlarged the prison photo in the database. Angular face, hooded eyes, that distinctive facial scar running from left ear to jawline. Then I toggled back to my security still frame, comparing features.

Same height. Similar build. The face wasn't clear enough for absolute confirmation, but the snake tattoo—Vincent Licata's crew all wore that particular mark as a sign of loyalty. Some permanently inked onto skin, others, like Tommy, in wearable form.

I sent the comparison shots to Detective Chen with my assessment:Preliminary ID: Thomas Licata. Confirm.

Leaning back in my chair, I stared at the ceiling fan's hypnotic rotation. If Tommy Lace had surfaced at the Jade Petal, that changed the investigation's timeline. Intelligence suggested the Licatas were planning a major money movement this Friday—a transfer of laundered funds that would provide us with the concrete evidence needed for federal warrants.

My mind drifted to the briefing that had landed me in this role eleven months ago.

"The Licatas are smarter than the last generation," Lieutenant Rodriguez had explained, spreading surveillance photos across the table. "They learned from the old guard's mistakes. No more suitcases of cash. No obvious muscle. They operate through proxies, legitimate fronts, digital transfers with plausible explanations."

"Which is why we can't nail them," Detective Chen added. "RICO requires a pattern of criminal activity. We know they're moving money, but proving it means catching them in the act." Her finger tapped a glossy photo of the Jade Petal. "Intelligence suggests the casino is their newest washing machine."

Rodriguez nodded. "They've invested through shell companies, placed key personnel in management. Our theory is they're cycling cash through high-roller transactions and VIP services."

"And you need me inside," I concluded.

"We need someone they won't make as law enforcement," Chen confirmed. "Your military intelligence background gives you the skills without the cop tells. You know surveillance, you read people, and you've been off the grid long enough that your face won't register in their security checks."

"The assignment is deep cover," Rodriguez warned. "Minimum six months, potentially longer. No contact withanyone from your real life. You'll live the part until we get what we need."

I nodded. Deep cover wasn't new territory—I'd done similar work during my military intelligence days. "What's my way in?"

"Casino dealer. The Jade Petal is staffing up for their expansion. We've arranged credentials, references, even a digital history that will stand up to background checks. You'll start at the regular tables, work your way to high-limit. Build trust, observe patterns, identify key players."

"And my extraction plan?"

Chen's expression turned serious. "The goal is a coordinated federal takedown with multiple agencies. When we have enough for RICO charges, you'll be notified through secure channels. Timing will be tight—we move on the entire operation simultaneously."

"And if something blows before then?"

Rodriguez slid a phone across the table. "Emergency protocols. But understand this—if you pull the ripcord early, two years of investigation dies with your cover."

I pocketed the phone. "No pressure, then."

"One more thing," Chen added. "The Licatas eliminated three potential witnesses in the last case against them. They protect their operations ruthlessly. If they make you as law enforcement—"

"I know," I interrupted. "I'm on my own."

The memory dissolved as my laptop pinged with an incoming message.

ID confirmed. Tommy Lace, active warrant, approach with extreme caution. Priority target.

Detective Chen's response crystallized the stakes. Tommy wasn't just an associate; he was the likely courier for Friday's money transfer. Intelligence had long indicated that Vincent Licata's organization used family members as cash carriers—ties of blood supposedly ensured loyalty. If Tommy was on-site, the operation was accelerating.

I closed the laptop and checked my watch: 3:47 a.m. Four hours until my shift at the high-limit tables. Just enough time for a few hours' sleep before the next phase began.

Sleep, however, proved elusive. My thoughts kept circling back to Nova. The mysterious assistant clearly didn't belong in Valentina's world of illusion and spectacle. Her movements, her speech patterns, the watchful intelligence in her eyes—everything about her screamed "outsider." Just like me.

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