Page 36 of Devil in the Details

The river card was the ace of clubs.

Two pair now, aces and kings with a jack kicker. Strong, but that flush draw hadn’t gotten there. Paul pushed forward nearly all his remaining chips, and this time Caleb knew he saw them move the last half-inch on their own.

He glanced toward the rail and caught a glimpse of Ty Carter watching intently, his expression unreadable, but something about his presence radiated a strong sense of disapproval. Whatever was going on here, Ty knew about it — and seemed to be monitoring not just the supernatural manipulation, but Caleb’s response to it.

Paul’s face remained impassive behind his thick glasses, but there was something in his eyes that didn’t feel quite right, a gleam of satisfaction that seemed sort of premature, given that Caleb hadn’t even called yet.

“All in,” Caleb said quietly, pushing his stack forward.

Paul’s composure cracked for just a moment, revealing a flash of darker emotions underneath, like the sullen glow of magma beneath a crust of hardened lava. He called instantly, turning over pocket aces for three of a kind.

Caleb showed his ace-king. “Two pair, aces and kings,” he announced. “Jack kicker.”

Paul’s face went slack with shock. At the velvet rope, something like approval flickered across Ty’s even, model-handsome features, and he gave a very faint nod. The chips seemed to shiver on the felt, as if whatever power that had been controlling them was suddenly uncertain.

“Hand to seat three,” the dealer announced, pushing the massive pot toward Caleb. “Player in seat two is eliminated.”

As Paul stood, looking slightly dazed, Caleb noticed how Ty’s attention had sharpened. For the briefest second, it almost seemed as if a faint glow surrounded the man, but then it disappeared as if it had never been there at all.

Maybe all the stress was making him imagine things.

Paul paused by Caleb’s chair. “Good hand,” he said, but his tone suggested anything but congratulations. “Watch yourself. Some of us don’t like surprises.”

“No surprises here,” Caleb replied evenly. “Just poker.”

But as Paul walked away, Caleb saw him exchange a look with the Hispanic man who’d been watching Delia, a glance that seemed heavy with meaning. Meanwhile, Ty Carter had shifted position again, placing himself where he could see both the table and the two men who’d just shared some sort of silent communication. Whatever game they were playing, it wasn’t just poker anymore — and Caleb had a feeling the real stakes were just beginning to show themselves.

Margaret Howard was already focused on the next hand, but Dave Wheeler was watching the crowd with knowing eyes. Maybe Caleb wasn’t the only one who’d noticed something odd about this tournament.

He looked over at Delia again, relieved to see that she seemed unaware of the undercurrents swirling around the table. Better that way. He had enough to worry about without trying to explain why some of his fellow players seemed to be operating under supernatural influences — or why Ty Carter, who’d dropped out early, was watching him with the intensity of an avenging angel.

The dealer began shuffling for the next hand, but Caleb’s attention was divided now between the cards and the complex web of supernatural forces gathering around the tournament. He’d made it to the final qualifying round by playing it straight, but he had a feeling the real challenge wasn’t going to be poker at all.

Despite being a native of Las Vegas, Delia had never had much interest in poker. Sure, she’d play blackjack every once in a while if her date was so inclined or if some of her relatives from Chicago were visiting town and wanted to spend some time at the casinos. But she’d never learned the rules of Texas Hold ’Em, which meant most of what she was watching was arcane at best and incomprehensible at the worst.

She wasn’t here to track all the various ins and outs and ups and downs of the game, though. No, she’d come here to support Caleb, and it didn’t really matter if she couldn’t understand everything that was happening at his table.

However, even a person as clueless as she was could see that he’d won the first hand. His dark eyes, bright with triumph, met her gaze for a moment, and she smiled back at him and flashed a thumbs-up to show her happiness at his victory.

Now he’d just have to do that enough times to make it to the quarterfinals.

The dealer began shuffling her cards again and placed two in front of the three remaining players. From this angle, Delia couldn’t see what Caleb had been dealt, and since his features remained utterly impassive, it was impossible to tell whether he’d been given something he could actually work with or whether he was just maintaining a cool façade so the other players would have no idea what was going on in his mind.

In a way, it was sort of odd to see him looking so stoic, because most of the time, his emotions were easy to read, his face animated, those cola-hued eyes full of energy and life.

She knew she liked him better when he was being himself.

“Delia?” said a startled voice just then, and she looked up in shock.

“Aaron?” she responded, knowing she sounded just as surprised. “What’re you doing here?”

Even as the words left her mouth, she wondered if they sounded too much like an accusation, as though she was implying he’d been stalking her or something by being here. But it was a public place, after all, and she knew the event had been advertised on local television, so it wasn’t as if no one knew about it.

Aaron Sanchez smiled. Today he wore a loose black camp shirt over a pair of jeans and looked much more relaxed than he had when she’d seen him in his work attire of a dress shirt and slacks only a few days earlier.

“Oh, a friend of mine is playing,” he replied, then pointed to a man who looked like he might be in his mid-thirties, fair-haired and just as poker-faced as Caleb, sitting at the farthest table. “Since I didn’t have any house showings this afternoon, I thought I’d drop by and see how he was doing.” Aaron paused there, one eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. “How about you?”

“The same,” she said, and inclined her head toward Caleb’s table, although she didn’t elaborate which of the players was her friend. Aaron would probably be able to guess, but still, she didn’t see the need to reveal all to someone she barely knew.

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