“You lied to me,” she said to her husband.
Bo swallowed hard. “It’s still a lot of money.”
“You lied to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“
“I said I’m sorry.”
“
Bronco found himself feeling sorry for Karen. “How much did he tell you?”
Her eyes had welled with tears. “Half.”
“Three hundred grand?”
“Yes.”
Bronco thought he understood. For three hundred grand, Karen had been willing to stand in front of a slot machine in her wedding dress, and let a man she hardly knew steal a jackpot. But not for a penny less. He edged closer to her. In a quiet voice he said, “You want the rest of your money?”
Karen swiped at her eyes and nodded stiffly.
“I’ll give you my half if you dump this loser, and hit the road with me.”
“
“The wedding dress is perfect cover. We can hit a couple of casinos a week, make out like bandits.”
Karen backed away from him with a horrified look on her face. “Get away from me. Bo, make him get away from me.”
Bronco felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, and spin him around. Bo was standing directly behind him, his fist cocked. Bronco tried to duck as the punch connected with the right side of his face. He dropped the briefcase as he fell.
“You crummy son-of-a-bitch,” Bo said, towering over him. “You think you’re a big shot with your skeleton keys and magnets and your money. Well, you can keep that shit. Just get out of our lives. Understand?”
Bronco took a deep breath and rose on unsteady legs while staring at Karen. She had that sultry look he’d always liked. As if reading his thoughts, Bo stepped forward and shoved him into the wall. “Stop looking at her like that! She’s mine, understand? I should kill you for looking at her like that.”
But Bronco couldn’t stop looking. Seeing Karen in her wedding dress yesterday had stirred emotions in him that he’d thought had died long ago. She was too good for this loser, and he said, “She won’t be yours for long.”
Bo’s mouth dropped open.
“You lied to her,” Bronco said. “On her wedding day. Think about it.”
Bo pulled his arm back to strike him. Bronco wasn’t going to eat another punch, and drew a silver-handled gun from his pants pocket, aimed at Bo’s chest, and squeezed the trigger. The shot made a loud
Bronco tossed his money into the cheap briefcase. Opening the door, he glanced back at Karen. She knelt beside her dying husband and was sobbing. She looked at him, as if to say,
“You deserve better,” Bronco said.
Chapter 2
Tampa Bay Downs was the oldest thoroughbred race track on Florida’s laid-back west coat. Located in the sleepy town of Oldsmar, it was far enough away from Tony Valentine’s home in Palm Harbor to be a nuisance to reach, with the last mile a true test of nerve. Called Race Track Road, it had enough crazed drivers to raise any sane person’s blood pressure.
Valentine didn’t need his blood pressure raised this afternoon; he already had his son, Gerry, to do that for him. They had come to the track to investigate card-cheating in the track’s Silks poker room, only Gerry had disappeared within a few minutes of walking into the joint. His son had never seen a wager he didn’t like, and Valentine guessed he was hanging off the track rail, betting his rent on a nag.
“Mr. Valentine?” a female voice asked.
An athletic woman with frosted blond hair, bronzed skin, and a hundred watt smile had materialized beside him. She extended her hand. “Suzie Brinkman, director of security. I called you this morning about the problem in our poker room. Thanks for coming out so fast.”
She was a dish. Valentine smiled and shook her hand. “My pleasure.”
“My father says you’re the best in the world at catching cheaters,” she said.
Suzie’s father owned the track, and had interests in several Nevada casinos. He was also a client, and Valentine felt obligated to make sure his daughter didn’t get ripped off. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“There’s a rumor floating around that one of our poker dealers is in cahoots with a player. I want to find out if it’s true.”
“Sounds right up my alley,” Valentine said.
“Good. I just spoke with my father, and he said it was okay if you went to the surveillance room, and looked at the tapes of the different dealers.”
They were standing in the bar next to the noisy poker room. Every table was filled, with lines of young men, and an occasional woman, waiting to fill the next available chair. Poker was all the rage, and brought huge business to the track.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk through the room first,” he said.
“May I accompany you?”
“Of course.”
Valentine took a walk through the poker room with Suzie Brinkman glued to his side, stopping at each table to watch the dealer shuffle and deal. The track employed professional dealers who’d been trained in dealer schools. Their actions were uniform in every respect, and Valentine looked for any hesitation on the dealer’s part when they handled the cards. Before any sleight-of-hand move, there was always a tiny, pregnant pause. Hustler’s called these tells. Done, he walked back to the bar with Suzie still beside him.
“So what do you think?” she asked.
“Got him,” he said.
Her mouth dropped open. “Oh, come on.”
“Where are we going?”
A blush rose beneath her tan. “I mean, be serious. We weren’t in there five minutes.”
“Yeah, but I know what I’m looking for.”
She flashed him another smile. He found himself liking her, and pointed into the room at the dealer working Table #6. The man was built like a mailbox, with a thin body and large, square head, and had a way of handling himself that told Valentine he’d been in prison. Most gambling venues didn’t hire ex-cons, but Florida was an exception: The state had six hundred thousand ex-felons, and they needed to work.
“That guy’s your cheater.”
“Milo Kelly,” she said, shaking her head. “My dad caught him stealing chips, and gave him another chance. This is how he repays us. What’s he doing?”
“He’s giving his partner at the table the best cards. It’s called a pick-up stack.”
“I’ll have him pulled off the game immediately. Can you show me what he’s doing, in case I have to explain it to the police?”
There was a real hunger in Suzie’s eyes. She knew she was green, and she wanted to learn the ropes. Valentine wished his son had half her enthusiasm.
“My pleasure,” he said.
