Chapter 33 #2
Amelia reached for my hand, but I moved out of the way so it didn’t look like we were together. The hurt on her face was palpable. Before she could say another word, I pulled away and disappeared into the crowd.
Amelia was two rounds in and up fifty grand.
She was untouchable when she wasn’t holding back.
I did another sweep of the casino, as if I was on the clock working security, while she cashed out and moved tables to start a new game.
But instead of lingering in the shadows, listening to chatter in my earpiece, I high-fived little old ladies who had won a few hundred bucks on the slots.
I “accidentally” knocked over a bachelorette’s drink that had been spiked.
I wove between poker tables like I had somewhere to be and caught Amelia’s eye as she glanced up from her cards.
I gave her a quick nod, then turned my attention away so she wouldn’t lose focus.
I needed her locked in.
“Excuse me,” I muttered as I slipped by a group of forty-somethings celebrating someone’s birthday with obnoxious sashes and plastic crowns.
The noise level seemed to reach an impossible decibel as I rounded the bar. I had no idea how the employees put up with this nonsense night after night. John Valentine was many things, but at least he didn’t give me a migraine.
A man stumbled by with coke still powdering his nose.
Fantastic.
I withheld an eye roll when he made a manic beeline for the poker table, as if a line in the bathroom that he couldn’t afford would change his luck.
I snagged a half-empty rocks glass that someone had discarded on the corner of the bar.
I had no intention of putting it anywhere near my mouth, but having something in my hands made it look like I belonged.
Not getting carded at the bar was even better.
Bartenders were better than cops when it came to spotting fake IDs.
I knew Valentine wouldn’t send his guys all the way to Vegas. There were certain players in Nevada that he didn’t fuck with. But that didn’t mean we were out of the woods.
There was one player in particular that I was trying to avoid: the Feds.
Amelia threw her arms up and shrieked in delight as she won another twenty grand.
Good girl. She was playing fast and big.
While we cleaned up after sex, we had discussed her cash-out point. With the eighty thousand Cole had stashed away, she needed a little over twenty grand to cover the loan Joel owed to Valentine.
And then we needed more for the two of them to be able to walk away.
I told her we could leave Vegas with fifty thousand extra but eighty thousand would be safer, bringing the total she needed to go back east to a hundred grand.
The money was only half our bargaining chip. The reports I had stashed in my apartment were the other. Offering the extra cash to Valentine would butter him up. The blackmail would shut him down.
Cheers rose up from Amelia’s table as the other players celebrated her win. She beamed from ear to ear. I loved watching her shine. I loved when she took up space rather than being forgettable.
People began to crowd around her to watch the next hand.
Her expression was giddy and light—an award-winning actress in the role of her life. She didn’t mouth the count. She kept her gaze steady, never watching anyone else’s hand too long. She played the part flawlessly—a newbie with a strong streak of beginner’s luck.
Jackpot.
She cleaned up the table, winning another fifteen grand, bringing her current total to $85,000.
Fifteen thousand to go.
I didn’t know how long we had been here, but she was playing fast tonight. Hopefully, the next fifteen thousand would come just as easy.
There were no clocks in casinos. Owners didn’t like giving players the parameters of time.
But I’d noticed that the security guards were on thirty-five-minute rotations.
I waited until I saw the next rotation and added it to my mental clock as cheers rose up from Amelia’s blackjack table again.
I caught her eyes and lifted my glass to her.
A heavy hand clapped down on my shoulder, and I spun, peeling my attention away from her.
The pilfered glass tumbled from my hand to the hideous carpet and cracked but didn’t shatter. Ice rolled across the floor as the lingering liquor was soaked up by the fibers.
“Jude Graham,” the man in the navy suit said with a smug grin as my left arm was jerked behind my back, then my right.
The casino fell silent as the metallic snap and click of handcuffs shackling my wrists echoed through the room.
Everything went numb.
“You’re under arrest pursuant to a federal warrant for kidnapping, interstate transportation of a kidnapped person, and conspiracy.
You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.
You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.
Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you? ”
I forced myself not to look in Amelia’s direction as I was perp-walked out of the casino to a cluster of FBI agents who waited just outside the doors.
Half of them looked at me like I was a complete stranger. That tracked.
The man in the middle stood with his arms crossed, looking entirely unamused. “You know how much I hate Las Vegas, Judah.”
I tipped my chin up. “James. You’ve gotten old. Long time, no see.”
Agent Sanders didn’t even crack a smile. I guess some things never changed. “It was supposed to be longer.”