Page 25 of Pure Vengeance

“Sure thing, boss.” He steps back out and slides the doors closed.

“We?” I ask.

He gets up from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket closed.

“Yes. Daniel Barton is the manager that fired your brother that day.”

“Why is he here?”

“Because I’d like to know who did kill your brother.” He moves my chair out of the way, and gestures toward the door.

“You’re going to help me figure out who killed Michael?”

“Yes.” He jerks his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

“But why?”

“So, the next time you aim your gun, it will pointed at the right person.”

CHAPTER NINE

Anton

Daniel Barton, a middle-aged, middle-management type stands in my office staring at the painting my mother brought over from Italy after her and my father’s anniversary trip years ago.

He turns to us when the door clicks closed behind us.

“Mr. DeMarci.” He walks over to me with determined steps.

“Daniel.” I give him a curt nod. “Thank you for coming over this morning.” I turn halfway to Claire. “This is Clare Montecelli. Her brother Michael used to work for me.”

He eyes her and gives a silent nod.

“Michael, yes. I remember him.” He frowns, turning his gaze back to me.

“He was killed shortly after he was let go from the casino,” I explain, but the firmness of his expression tells me he already knows.

“I had heard of his passing. I am so sorry.” He bows a little toward Claire. “How can I help you?”

“I want to know what happened; how did he get fired?” I press him.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “A player, Salvatore Luparo, was caught cheating at Michael’s poker table. We’d been watching Salvatore for a while; he’d been a big winner lately and came to the casino almost nightly for several weeks. When he was questioned, he gave up Michael. He said they had a deal going, that Michael would do what’s called false shuffling, meaning he would keep cards set aside for Salvatore and shuffle the rest, assuring Salvatore was getting the best hand.”

“Michael wouldn’t do something like that,” Claire interjects.

“I didn’t think so either.” Daniel’s frown intensifies. “He was one of the best dealers we had. Never had any trouble with him before. But we went back to the tapes, it was hard to see, but my security team was certain they’d seen it.”

“Certain? How certain?” I ask. “Unless he was some great magician, I don’t see how you could not see it.”

“My security team assured me they were certain. I had to let him go.” Daniel looks like he wants to say more, but he hesitates.

“What is it?” I push. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Later, we found Salvatore Luparo had been working with a team. There were four of them in all.”

“And no other dealers?” I ask.

He nods.

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