“Yeah, but why?”
There was a strong possibility that West would return from whatever job he was working, and find my body in a ditch. Or hog-tied and locked in a closet. But what the hell else was I supposed to do? I was physically incapable of sitting in complete silence for hours on end. It was my own personal form of torture. Just like my presence was for Xander, I was sure.
He let out an aggrieved sigh, like he was dealing with an unruly child.
Not far off the mark, bub, I thought to myself. So might as well make conversation with me, because I’m stubborn enough to win this.
“Because the owner of the casino has noticed some discrepancies in his numbers,” Xander answered.
“Meaning?”
Another sigh. “Meaning he thinks one of his dealers is skimming, but his security team hasn’t been able to pinpoint who, so he hired us.”
“Huh.” I leaned in again to get a closer look, my eyes bouncing between the split screens on the monitors for a minute or two. “That’s because it’s a team, not just one dude.”
He jerked his head around. “You can’t possibly know that.”
“Can too.” I mentally high-fived myself for not answering yuh-huh! like I’d wanted. Adulting for the win. If there was one thing I loved, it was proving people wrong for underestimating me. I wheeled closer to the desk, wedging myself in beside Xander. When he didn’t immediately move to make more room for me, I knocked the side of my chair against his. “Scooch over, Paul Bunyan.”
With a beleaguered sigh, he shifted his chair so I could fit in front of the monitors with him.
“Okay, you see that guy right there?” I pointed at the blackjack dealer at the top left of the screen. “He’s about to signal to the guy on the far-right end. See? Right there.”
Xander leaned in even closer. “I didn’t see anything.
“It’s in how he flips the cards. Usually, the player is the one counting, but that’s not the case this time. If he flips the card with his middle finger and thumb, that means hold. If it’s his index and thumb, that means hit.”
I sat back as Xander watched the guy deal two more hands. “Son of a bitch. You’re right.”
“I know,” I said smugly. “But that’s not all. To keep his table from getting too hot, he’ll cough. That’s him telling the dude to move tables. And see that guy there?” I pointed to the table two down from the one we’d been focused on. “That dealer’s in on it too. Same thing. So you have two dealers counting, with a crew of at least three players, I’d guess, switching between the tables so it’s harder for the casino’s security to catch on.”
“Fuck me,” Xander breathed as he turned to me. “How the hell did you figure that out so damn fast?”
I shrugged casually and sat back in my chair, shuffling my deck of cards between my hands. “I was counting the cards too. And it’s what my family and I would do if the con wasn’t so high risk.” Mobsters were one thing, but casino owners could be crazy.
I waited for his expression to grow wary when he remembered the fact he was sitting next to a con artist, but it didn’t come. Instead, his hard features softened just a tad in what I could have sworn was acceptance just before he turned back to the monitors. “Show me again.”
I could do that if it meant not dying from boredom.
West
“I’ve seen some bad apartments, but this has to rank up there in the top five,” Bryce said as I turned my truck into Stella’s complex and wound my way over the cracked pavement toward her unit.
Tension had squeezed the muscles in my neck and shoulder, forming knots as I remembered the first time I’d stepped foot in her place, how she’d tried to make this pit a home.
“You run the landlord?” Hunter asked from the passenger seat.
I had, and what I’d discovered about Douglas Henderson made me more determined to keep Stella as far away from this shithole as humanly possible. “Did a three-year stint up in Illinois for domestic abuse. Got out and got a job at a place a lot like this. Two women who lived in that complex reported him to the police for harassment and stalking but later went back and retracted their statements. After that, he packed up and moved here.”
“You think he got to the women?”
There wasn’t a fucking doubt in my mind. “Think he threatened them to take it all back, but knew he’d burned that bridge, so he came here to pull the same shit.”
“Motherfucker,” Hunter clipped harder than I would have expected. The man wasn’t exactly known for being the most emotive guy out there. He kept to himself a lot of the time, but when you needed him, he had your back. But on the ride to Stella’s apartment, I’d noticed something off with him. There was an energy crackling around him, a vibe that screamed pissed off and ready to crack skulls. Hunter wasn’t a hothead. Not even close, but the atmosphere in the cab of my truck had been electrified during the entire drive.
I shot a look at Bryce in the rearview mirror, silently asking if he knew what the hell was up. Out of all of us, Hunter was closest with Bryce. They’d been in the SEALs together and, when they eventually got out, had come to Alpha Omega together. If there was anyone who’d know what was up, it would be Bryce.
His expression grew harder as he gave his head an infinitesimal shake, communicating that this wasn’t the time nor the place.
I let it go and parked my truck in front of Stella’s apartment. The three of us climbed out and started up the sidewalk. I noticed neighbors peeking their heads out to watch us. A few shot back inside after I made eye contact, but there was one, an older woman who lived in the apartment next to Stella’s, who opened her door wide and stood in the doorway.
Her curly slate-gray hair was cut close to her scalp, but the dark skin on her face was devoid of lines, making it hard to determine her age. She could have been in her mid-fifties, or she could have been in her seventies and aged really fucking well. She watched the three of us closely, with a shrewd determination that told me she was used to keeping her eyes and ears open, and wasn’t one to be messed with. “Can I help you?”
“No, ma’am. Just picking up some things.”
She gave Hunter and Bryce a cursory glance before focusing back on me. “You Stella’s new man?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I held out my hand. “West Scott.”
“Dorthey Jenkins,” she replied, giving my hand a firm, no-nonsense shake. “I take it since you’re here picking up things, and not her, you got her ass out of this pit?”
“You take it right.”
The woman crossed her arms over her chest and nodded resolutely. “Good. Never did like that girl living here. Knew the moment I saw her carrying in those boxes that son of a bitch would make her a target.”
My stomach coiled into knots. “You talking about Doug Henderson?”
“Bet your ass I am. That man’s a predator. No two ways about it.”
Bryce stepped up next to me as Hunter stayed back, his arms crossed over his chest as he seethed silently. “Is he giving you any trouble?”
“Not me. I’m not his type. Too old. He likes them young and beautiful. Just like your girl. I tried keeping an eye on her as best I could. Would’ve gladly taken a baseball bat to that man’s skull one of the countless times I caught him coming out of her apartment when she wasn’t there, but I’m too damn old for prison, and can’t afford to get kicked out of this place if I messed up and didn’t off him with the first swing.”