Page 114 of Gambler's Conceit

“Nope,” Rosie answers. “Haven’t seen him since you both left this morning.”

I curse and hang up, then immediately call Vortex. “Where are you? Is Seven with you?”

“No,” he says, instantly apprehensive. “The last I saw him, he was with Madeline at the blackjack table. Have you called Havoc yet?”

“Not yet. Madeline says Seven rushed off without a word. Go through the security feed, see what you can find.” I end that call and dial Havoc. Madeline looks more and more worried. “Why don’t you ask the other staff if they’ve seen anything,” I tell her.

She nods gratefully. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Maybe he’s just hiding somewhere. He needed a place to catch a breath, or…”

“Go,” I chide. She gasps and nods again, then rushes off.

“Caleb?” Havoc sounds wary.

“Seven isn’t with you, is he?” I ask, although I already know what the answer will be.

“Uh, I’m waiting on your dry cleaning,” Havoc says. “I was going to swing by to meet with him later.”

My phone buzzes with another call from Vortex.

“Forget the dry cleaning,” I bark. “Get back here.” I switch over to Vortex’s call. “Tell me you found him.”

“Find Grant,” Vortex says without preamble. “He grabbed Seven and pulled him off the floor. I can’t track them past the employee area, but I’m about to go ask some questions.” He hangs up before I do.

Grant.

Fuck.

I start toward the employee section as I call Grant.

“Hey, boss,” he answers, not a single hint of worry in his voice. “What’s up?”

“The fucking Achak account,” I answer. “Grandfather is up my ass about it again. Can you meet me in the second office so we can put together something halfway presentable?”

Grant agrees easily, and I wonder if he really suspects nothing at all. Does he think I won’t find out he did something to Seven? If Seven is crying in a corner somewhere because of him…

Seven’s tears belong tome.

I take the stairs to the basement level, where the safes and the unused offices are. This is also where we keep the second set of books, well hidden from prying eyes.

Grant is already waiting for me in the dusty office. It looks like nothing more than an unused staff room. The floor is easily cleaned tile, and there’s a hose and a drain in the corner.

“Why is Leon suddenly interested in that account?” Grant asks as I enter. He places his laptop down on the coffee table and sits down on the couch, looking all the world ready to get to work on this.

I go toward the desk and unlock the second drawer. “Don’t ask me. You know how he is. He suddenly gets an idea in his head and decides the entire world needs to bend to his will.” I pull out the books—in paper, so nobody can possibly hack it—and toss it onto the desk.

Behind all the files in the drawer is a loaded gun.

I pick it up discreetly and walk over to the door, locking it.

“So, we got twenty k last week from the Morenos,” Grant says, his attention still on the laptop.

“Where’s Seven, Grant?” I ask, biting back the anger.

Grant stiffens and looks up at me. “What?”

“Where is Seven, Grant?” I repeat. “You were the last person to talk to him, apparently.”

Grant scoffs and shakes his head, but his eyes dart around the room. He seems to have finally caught on that he’s in a precarious situation. “I dunno. Maybe he’s in another man’s room. That’s his M.O., right?”

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