Page 11 of Don't Bet On It
The gentleman sitting in front of me was acting cagey, like he was up to something. It was possible he was anticipating getting a big payout—people acted weird sometimes when money was involved—but it was also possible he was trying to cheat. I watched him carefully.
“Sure.” I split the cards. That was how it worked. Players weren’t allowed to touch the cards in case they tried to mark or replace them. Then I looked around the table to see if anybody else wanted to split or fold. Everybody tapped, so I doled out the cards.
The guy was happy. To go along with his two face cards, he got a nine and another face card. I flipped over my second card—I was already showing a face card—and it was an ace. The splitter was full of rage.
“No, you’re cheating.” He moved to stand, but Rex was there before I could even register what was about to happen.
“Sit down,” Rex warned in a low voice. I was thankful that he didn’t have his daughter strapped to his chest. The last time I’d seen him—about two hours before—Chloe had been happilysmiling at anybody her father walked past. Even in a casino, people couldn’t help but be charmed by a big, burly security guy with a baby. Rex was the only member of the security team allowed to have his daughter with him at work, however. Since he was engaged to the boss’s daughter, that made sense.
The man seemed surprised by Rex’s sudden appearance, and he cast a look over his shoulder, as if debating whether he could take him or not. Rex arched a “go for it; I dare you” eyebrow and waited.
Slowly, the man returned to his seat as I collected the cards and bets.
Rex stared him down a beat longer, clearly gauging the situation. Then he lifted his chin. “Shut it down,” he announced. “You can shift to another table after your break.”
I still had ten minutes before my break, but I nodded all the same. “Closing the table,” I announced in a bland voice.
The other gentlemen at the table grumbled a bit under their breath but moved on without incident. The man who had jumped to his feet seemed torn, however.
“I want to stay here,” he said after a beat. “This is my lucky table.”
Rex narrowed his eyes. Obviously, he was getting the same vibe from this guy I was. Something was going on. I couldn’t figure out what, however.
“This table will reopen in an hour,” Rex replied evenly. “If you want to wait, you can go over there.” He pointed toward a lounge area.
“But…” The man seemed to regroup. “Fine,” he grumbled as he stood, gathering his small pile of chips. “This is crap, though.”
I remained in my spot and watched him go. “He’s up to something,” I said to Rex.
Rex nodded. He was thoughtful when he turned back to me. He’d never once suggested he recognized me from high school.He was older than me by a few years, but that shouldn’t have stopped him from knowing who I was. If he was suspicious, he kept it to himself. It was also possible he hadn’t put my identity together.
“I’m going to have them run him in the security office.” He pointed toward the bubble overhead. “I don’t know how he could think this was his lucky table after what happened. He was adamant about staying here, though.”
“Which is suspicious,” I agreed, glancing over my shoulder to see what would have been in his sight line. It was more blackjack tables.
“I don’t see what could have his attention over there,” Rex hedged.
“Unless it’s another player.” I hadn’t even realized I was going to say it out loud until the words were already out of my mouth.
Interest lit Rex’s features. “Good point. I’ll run those players too. Maybe he was communicating with one of them.”
“It’s possible.” I looked around again. “Is there something specific you’re worried about?” It was none of my business, but I was intrigued all the same.
Rex opened his mouth then looked around. “Actually, yes.” He moved closer to me. “You remember Ryder Stone, correct?”
The question threw me. “Um, yeah.”
“You went to high school with us. Of course you remember him.” Rex shook his head, almost as if he was internally chiding himself.
Well, that answeredthatquestion. He did remember me. Maybe he didn’t remember who my father was. That was possible. “I thought he was in jail.”
“He was.” Rex was grim. “They just let him out on appeal.”
I was thrown. “But… I thought he got sentenced to years in prison.”
“He did. He got a good attorney. He’s going to be roaming around until they decide on his appeal.” Rex was grim. “They didn’t put any limitations on his movement.”
I could read between the lines. “You think he’s coming here.”
