Page 25 of Once Marked
“Is that an afternoon poker game going on back there, Pete?”Thorne’s inquiry was casual.
Pete, the embodiment of nonchalance, shrugged once more, but his silence spoke volumes.
Thorne’s gaze then flicked toward Riley, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes.“Say, Agent Paige, didn’t you mention earlier that you love a good poker game?”
Of course, Riley had told him no such thing.But catching on to Thorne’s ploy, she suppressed a smile and played along with the ruse.“That’s right, Chief.Nothing like a friendly game of cards to unwind after a long day.”The ease with which she delivered her reply might have fooled anyone listening.
Thorne pivoted back to Pete with an enthusiasm that was almost convincing.His performance was for the sake of their mission, yet Riley couldn’t help feeling admiration for his ability to switch gears so seamlessly.
“Well, how about that!Maybe we can get Agent Paige here a seat at the table.What do you say, Pete?”Thorne asked, the words like a challenge.
Pete’s face darkened.His lips pressed into a thin line, a clear sign of his reluctance.“It’s a private game.”
“Come on, Pete,” Thorne’s voice took on a chiding tone, “this is a public establishment.Besides, Agent Paige here has come all the way from Quantico.Is this how we welcome visitors to Sandhaven?”
“It’s a man’s game,” Pete growled.“At least as far as the guys here are concerned.”
“Now, is that any way to talk to a lady?”Beeler put in.
Pete stood rooted behind the bar, showing annoyance now.The suggestion of joining the poker game clearly didn’t sit well with him.He was accustomed to the closed circle of Sandhaven, where outsiders remained just that—outsiders.But more than that, he was covering for someone.And it wasn’t hard to guess who that might be.
Riley just held her position, her eyes steady on Pete, standing her ground, an expression of friendly anticipation on her face.
But Thorne didn’t wait for consent or denial; his decision was made.
“Come on, let’s get you in the game,” he said.
With a purposeful stride, he led the way through the dimly-lit bar towards the secluded archway at the back.Riley followed close behind, her senses heightened.They passed through the threshold into a small room clouded with smoke that clung to the walls like fog.
The scene before them was one of casual debauchery.Four men, entrenched in their game, were surrounded by the remnants of spent cigarettes and half-empty glasses.Cards were fanned out across the green felt surface, alongside towers of chips that rose and fell with each hand played.The stench of stale beer mingled with the acrid tang of smoke, creating an olfactory backdrop to the tension that suddenly thrummed through the room.
The chatter ceased.Silence engulfed the room.Every eye turned toward the interlopers, sizing up the challenge they represented.
Riley’s gaze cut through the haze, cataloguing details, piecing together the psychological puzzle presented by these men who found solace in the cards.It was a temporary escape, a means to assert control in a world where they felt other rewards slipping away.Among the wary gazes, one stood out to Riley – hard, calculating eyes that didn’t just observe but seemed to dissect the moment.
“Marcus,” Thorne’s words were casual.“Just the man we’ve been looking for.”
The one who glared back at him, Marcus Callahan, just sat there, solid and unmoving.His stocky frame was balanced by a self-assured poise, his age marked not by frailty but by an accumulation of experiences shown on the lines of his face.Close-cropped gray hair gave him a no-nonsense appearance, complementing the directness in his stare.
He shifted his eyes to Riley and then to her colleagues, a smirk twisting his features as if amused by the audacity of their entrance.But behind the humor lay something else – annoyance, perhaps even disdain.Riley could see that Callahan was a man accustomed to being unchallenged in his domain, and here they were, uninvited guests disrupting his kingdom of kings and queens on the playing cards.
“These are Agents Paige and Esmer from the FBI,” Thorne said.“And I think you know Chief Beeler.We’d like you to come down to the station with us.”
Riley watched Callahan, the man himself an unmovable object amid the storm that had just entered his world.A smirk curved on his lips, a silent challenge in the creases of his weathered face.He leaned back, arms draped nonchalantly across the chair.Riley knew that look well—the mix of arrogance and control, the belief that he held all the cards both literally and figuratively.But the stakes were higher than the chips on the table, and the hand they were about to play wasn’t one he could bluff his way through.
“Well, now, that’s quite a request, Chief.I’m in the middle of a game here.”Callahan’s voice was gruff, dismissive as if the lawmen were no more than a minor inconvenience in his day.
“This isn’t a request, Callahan,” came Beeler’s stern interjection, his large frame a solid barrier against any escape.“We need to ask you some questions about Billie Shearer and Julie Sternan.”
A leaden silence followed, but it was there, in the briefest of moments—a flicker in Callahan’s eyes.Riley caught it, that sliver of something raw and unguarded.Surprise?Fear?It was gone too quickly for her to be sure, but it was there, a crack in the facade of indifference that Callahan had built up around himself.
Was that guilt,she wondered,or merely the shock of being cornered?
Her instincts, honed from years of profiling, told her to dig deeper.She focused on Callahan, reading him, trying to get beneath his skin.In that flicker, she had glimpsed the possibility of unraveling the mystery that had brought them all to this dingy room in Sandhaven.
Any trace of surprise or fear vanished from Callahan’s face, his features settling into an expression of stony apathy.He flicked a card down carelessly and leaned back with feigned nonchalance.“I’ll come along shortly,” he drawled, his gaze not leaving the hand he was playing.“Just let me win back some of the money I’ve lost today.”
Chief Thorne’s rugged face contorted slightly, a visible sign of his thinning patience.“That might be never.And anyway, we don’t have that kind of time, Marcus.You’re coming with us now.”
