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“Check,” Voodoo said. At the door, I exited first, sweeping the hall before stepping out and letting Voodoo and Alphabet fall back into their roles. We headed back to the casino floor.

For the next hour, Voodoo gambled, flirted, and “drank,” while Alphabet smacked his gum and I drifted along with them. According to Gallo, this section of the operation fell under the control of twelve high level bidders. They were the ones who extended the invitations, as well as ensured there was plenty of “stock.”

He hadsomeof the names.

We needed the rest.

It was with this in mind that Voodoo made his way around to the pai gow table where the peacock, one of the first targets we’d marked, sat playing. A silver-haired woman in her mid-sixties, she’d embraced her age and wore it like an ethereal crown.

Enormously attractive and fit, she seemed absolutely certain of her appeal. She also knew what she liked. One glance at Voodoo and she gestured for the man next to her to leave, freeing the seat up for him.

“Madam,” Voodoo said before he took the seat and settled his chips on the table.

“Hmm,” was all she replied before she took a sip of her wine. “You’re new.”

“I am.” Voodoo spread his hands. “Since we’re offering facts, allow me to say, you’re exquisite.”

She laughed.

Damn, the man had skill. I kept my face expressionless and scanned the room.

“I warn you,” she told him as the dealer began. “I do not have a soft side.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Voodoo drawled. “What do I get when I find it?”

When, not if.

Not even a full minute and he had her charmed. There was more than one way to skin a cat. Now to make sure when she went into that auction, we went with her.

Chapter

Seven

VOODOO

Marva Duvall, also known as the Peacock, seemed to enjoy pai gow as much as she did flirting. Her somewhat careless attitude, playful glances, and gentle caresses with her free roaming hand seemed at odds with her reputation.

Each time she patted my left thigh, she landed somewhere slightly different. The artless brushes of her hand down my shoulder and arm were as much a pat down as anything else. It wasn’t difficult to understand how she’d avoided detection. As attractive as she was in a gilded lady manner, she didn’t radiate “underworld menace.”

In my book, that made the stories about her all the worse.

“You must tell me…” She eyed me expectantly as we played the next hand. I had as yet not given her my name and I had no intentions of doing so.

“Tell you what, lovely lady?” I increased my buy-in with each game, though the last three had all ended in a push with the dealer. Madame Duvall had also increased her wagers as I did, but she’d lost two of the past three and only pushed on one. Neither of us had beaten the dealer since the first hand when I joined the table.

We were now on our fifth game, and the other players had dropped out as the stakes climbed with each game. It was akin to playing chicken with an asp. You just had to be comfortable with the idea that you might get struck and have to deal with the venom.

Amusement kindled in her honey brown eyes as she set the stakes for the next game, raising the initial bet to five thousand. “You are a dangerous one, aren’t you?”

“That depends,” I said, affecting a careless shrug as the last of the other players at the table ceded their position rather than place a bet. It was down to just us and the dealer.

“On?” She dared me as I debated both progressiveandfortune bets. The progressive pot had also significantly increased with each game with no one taking the prize. That was far more like baiting the hook. I could respect it.

“What game I am playing—fortune bet?” We had not placed this side bet even once.

“Based on our current odds, that would seem unwise.”

Though there was no denying the flash of interest in her eyes. The private guard attending her backed off as she waved her hand at him. I lifted a finger and Lunchbox also retreated a couple of steps. It gave us an illusion of privacy.

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