“Not roulette? You love roulette.”
“I know, but I thought I’d test my skills at cards instead.”
“I’m sticking with roulette.”
They split up, Mamie walking to the far side of the room toward the roulette tables, and Florence to the card tables. Two older men were currently playing twenty-one. Florence took an empty chair, withdrew a small pile of bills from her handbag and turned them over to the dealer for chips.
The play went at a steady pace. Florence recalled Clay’s advice, that each hand had its own odds and never to think beyond what was in front of her. It was relaxing, the shuffling and dealing, the watching and betting. Easy to lose track of time. She won more than she lost, and soon found herself in possession of an enormous stack of chips.
“You’re doing well,” one of the men playing at the table said. “You must tell us your secret.”
Florence smiled as she peeked at her cards and discovered a total of nineteen. “There is no secret. I’m just lucky, I guess.”
The dealer observed her carefully, paying more attention to Florence than the other players. Unsurprising, as Florence was the player consistently winning. The other two had hardly any chips left. “Another card, miss?” he asked.
“No, I’ll stay.”
The other two players both asked for cards and ended up busting out. The dealer took one card and totaled over twenty-one. Florence won again.
As the dealer counted out her winnings, she noted the way his gaze searched the room. What or who was he searching for? When he seemed to find his quarry, she glanced over her shoulder. The man who’d been pacing the floor, overseeing play, was staring at the dealer, some message communicated between them. Florence paused in stacking her chips, uneasiness skittering down her spine. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. What reason had she to worry?
After another hand, the same man appeared at Florence’s elbow. It was the floor manager. “Miss, come with me.”
She blinked at him. “Me? Whatever for?”
“You’re counting cards and we don’t allow that here. You need to get up and follow me. Now.”
“Counting cards!” Her voice went high, carrying over the cavernous room. “I am not counting cards. It’s pure skill. I have no need to cheat.”
He took hold of her elbow and roughly pulled her to her feet. “No woman has this much skill, not without cheating. I’ve been watching, remember. Come along.”
“But you’re wrong.” She tried to grab at her chips, but the floor manager nodded to the dealer.
“Take those chips back. She won’t be needing them.”
“Those are my winnings!” Now she was shouting, digging her heels into the old pine to prevent him from towing her out of the room. Only, he was stronger and her resistance meant little more than an annoyance. Where was her sister? Swinging her head about, Florence searched for Mamie.
“Stop right there!” Mamie yelled, closing in quickly. “Unhand my sister.”
“You’re her sister?” The man turned and waited for Mamie. “Then you can come along, as well. Both of you.”
Mamie exchanged a concerned glance with Florence before lifting her chin in that imperious way she had. Mamie was downright regal when she chose to be. “Where are you taking us?”
“You’ll see.”
Florence struggled to free her arm from the man’s grasp. “Let me cash in my chips and I’ll leave, I swear.”
“Afraid I can’t do that, miss.”
“Dash it, release me.” She tried to kick his leg but her damned skirts hampered her. “This is outrageous. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Tell it to Donnelly.”
He dragged her over the threshold, a locomotive sweeping her along for the ride. Her pleas and attempts to get free were for naught. When they reached the end of the hall, he opened the door and practically tossed Florence inside. Mamie came in right behind her, thank God. Florence didn’t think these men would hurt her, but she was grateful to not be alone.
“What do we have here?” A man stood up from behind the desk. Large stacks of money were spread out over the surface, more bills than Florence had ever seen in one place.
“Donnelly, we got ourselves a card counter.”
“No, I never—”
“This little thing?” Donnelly drew closer, a slow smile emerging as his dark gaze raked Florence from head to toe. His lips were dry and cracked, with dried spittle around the edges. His nose spoke of overindulgence in spirits. Fear sprinted along her veins. “I don’t care much for cheaters in my club.”
“I wasn’t cheating.” Why would no one believe her? “I just happen to be very good at twenty-one.”
“So good that she was up four hundred on Biddle.”
Donnelly’s smile faded as his brows flew up. “Four hundred? Jesus fuck, that’s a lot of money.”
“It’s how Biddle knew she was cheating.”
“I wasn’t cheating,” she ground out.
“Sirs,” Mamie said as she stepped forward. Logical, reasonable Mamie, ready to save Florence from another disaster. Even as Florence appreciated it, she resented the need for rescuing all the same. “Let’s remain calm. My sister is quite accomplished at cards. I have never seen her cheat, not once.”
“Just because no one notices don’t mean it ain’t happening,” Donnelly said. “I’ve never known a woman to win that much from Biddle, even one as fancy as you.”
“Well, you’ve never met anyone like my sister.” Mamie sounded almost proud. “She’s been tutored by—”
“Mamie, no!” Florence said, but it was too late.
“Mr. Clayton Madden,” her sister finished.
Donnelly’s jaw fell as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Wait, this little blonde thing right here has been tutored by Clayton Madden? The Clayton Madden? Of the Bronze House?”
Florence closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted was to drag Clay into this mess. It was mortifying enough that she’d been accused of cheating. To have Clay witness this humiliation would multiply her misery tenfold.
“Yes, that same Clayton Madden. Tell them, Florence.” Mamie elbowed Florence in the ribs.
“She’s mistaken,” Florence told Donnelly. “Clayton Madden doesn’t know me.”
“Why are you lying?” Mamie asked. “You told me that the other night he agreed—”
Donnelly held up his hand to the sisters and addressed his guard. “Send a note over. Let’s see if this story holds water.”
“That’s not necessary,” Florence told them.
“Oh, I think it is,” Donnelly said. “It’ll prove if you’re a liar as well as a cheater. Have a seat, ladies. You’re going to be here awhile.”
Chapter Seven
The wait was unbearable. Florence and Mamie sat in Donnelly’s office, silent, speaking only with their eyes, as Donnelly counted money at his desk. Mamie was apologetic for evoking Clayton Madden’s name and Florence let her know she wasn’t upset. The wheels had already been set in motion and now they had to see how the night played out. Florence apologized for leading them here in the first place and Mamie waved that away. It was amazing how much the two sisters could say to one another without words.