Page 17 of Dead Man's Hand

Sadie could feel DJ’s gaze on her and shook her head imperceptibly. She didn’t have to look at him to feel his disapproval. She knew what was riding on this for him—and his sister. But she had also learned to follow her instincts. She’d felt uncomfortable the moment she’d walked into this room. After seeing that one of their opponents was armed—and possibly ex-military or a retired cop—there was no way she was going through with the original plan.

Unfortunately, DJ was ignoring her advice and now she had no idea what he was planning—except they wouldn’t be using the marked deck of cards in her bag—and she hoped not the gun resting there, either.

So where did that leave them?

DJHADLIVEDhis life calculating the risk—and then playing the odds. But he’d never regretted it more than he did right now. He looked over at Sadie. He’d missed her. All the time he’d been putting things together, his thoughts had kept straying to her. He knew she was doing what he’d asked of her. That was Sadie. He could count on her. He just hoped she could count on him. She hadn’t hesitated about coming to Montana to help him. He’d known she would fly up here to do whatever he needed done. He’d needed her, and of course she’d come.

What he couldn’t understand was why. She didn’t owe him anything. Half the time, he thought she didn’t like him. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard her call him an arrogant fool. He figured she’d be relieved now that they wouldn’t be working together for her godfather. She was free.

He’d often wondered if there was a man in her life. He’d been glad that she’d never mentioned one—let alone let him see her with anyone. DJ knew he’d never think any man was good enough for her. Not that she would ask his opinion.

Now he tried to read her face. The woman had the best poker face he’d ever seen. She gave nothing away. But he knew that she’d been worried. He’d seen her concern. She’d heard it in his voice. She’d known this was personal. They all knew that when it got personal, it got more dangerous. He wasn’t just taking a chance with his own life; he was jeopardizing hers. He had no idea why she’d wanted to abort. He’d known her long enough that he knew she wouldn’t have done that unless she’d seen something she thought he hadn’t.

His gaze locked with hers, but only for a moment before she looked away. She thought he was making a mistake. He could tell that she was angry with him. It wouldn’t be the first time. She’d called him an arrogant fool, an arrogant cowboy and probably worse. But tonight was the first time she’d refused to use the marked cards.

He trusted her instincts. She’d seen or felt something that had made her change her mind. She wanted him to walk away. Had she sensed that one of the players was a wild card? Or had she seen something that scared her? Not that it mattered. He couldn’t quit now.

Sorry, Sadie, no can do. He wanted to tell her to trust him. But he feared her trust might be misplaced tonight. Charley had taught him the con, always warning him to step away from the table if he didn’t think he could win. Poker was a game of skill, one DJ had perfected. But most everything else was a crapshoot. You read the situation as best you could, but ultimately, you had no control over what other people did—or didn’t do. All you had were your gut instincts and years of learning to read people.

DJ hoped to hell that he knew what he was doing tonight. He’d gotten Sadie into this. He signaled for her to walk away after a few hands. Leave not feeling well. Make up a lie. Just leave.

But when he met her eyes, he saw not just anger but stubborn determination. Damn the woman, she would see this through. It was up to him now. Play out the hand he’d been dealt or throw in his cards and walk. He didn’t have to look at Sadie. They both knew he wouldn’t walk away.

SADIECONCENTRATEDONthe game and her opponents rather than DJ. She drew three cards on the first hand, picked up a couple of fours to go with the one she had, bet big and lost. The others noticed that she’d bet on a losing hand. She would play her part. But she would also be watching the table.

Frank had folded early in the betting, while Keith, slouching in his chair, was throwing good money after bad. Bob took the pot and passed the deal to trucker Max, and the game continued.

Sadie won and lost. So did DJ, although his pile of money kept growing. Keith, the kid, lost, got angry and stormed away from the table to crash on an old couch in the corner after Bob refused to spot him credit.

And then there were six of them and suddenly, the game turned serious. The pots got bigger, the smoke thicker, the smell of sweat stronger. Sadie felt the tension rise. She knew DJ felt it, too, but he looked calm, almost too calm.

Earlier, he had signaled for her to leave.Cash out.Walk away. She couldn’t. She had tried to warn him. He hadn’t listened. Her options were limited. Keep playing or quit and walk away from not only the game, but also DJ, and not look back. If she walked, that would be the end of them. He would never trust her again—even with him being the one to tell her to leave. Their time together was ending as it was. She couldn’t bear the thought that she’d let him down when he needed her most.

No, she thought, there was no way she was leaving him here alone. There was nothing more she could do but stay in the game and see this to the end. She thought about the gun in her purse and hoped she wouldn’t have to use it. The load wasn’t enough to do much harm to DJ if he had worn his vest under his shirt and jean jacket. But it would stop someone. Problem was that she didn’t want to use it any more than she had the marked cards.

All she could hope was that her instincts were wrong, that Frank wasn’t the wild card she feared he was, and that DJ’s stubborn determination would carry them through as the cards moved around the table. Bob opened a new deck after a short break, and they continued.

Bob was losing and getting drunker. His dealing was sloppy. Sadie watched him. If she hadn’t been able to smell the booze wafting off him, she might have been worried that it was all an act, and he was dealing off the bottom of the deck. He lost the next pot and handed off the cards to Max.

The trucker had been playing well. He and DJ had about the same amount of money in front of them. Lloyd the fisherman had played a conservative game, folding early, and yet staying in the game. The armed Frank was good at the game. Maybe too good. He gave nothing away, including his money.

Her turn was coming up again to deal. She’d lost just enough so that the others didn’t take her seriously. As it got later, she found herself getting more nervous. The trucker began losing badly, hemorrhaging money. He wasn’t smart enough to stop. She could see him getting more anxious.

Bob had begun to sweat as his pile of bills dwindled. He’d been making bad bets on even worse hands. He kept rubbing the back of his neck, shifting in his chair, getting up to make himself another drink he didn’t need. He knew he was going down and this had been his show. The pressure was clearly getting to him.

“Come on, we don’t have all night,” Bob kept complaining. The trucker, too, was restless. Only Frank seemed unperturbed when the game slowed. All of it put her on alert.

DJ must have noticed that things were coming to a head. On the next hand, he raised the bet. The others either thought he was bluffing or just didn’t want to fold in defeat, so they stayed in, no doubt convinced that they had the better hand.

They’d come to the end of the night, one way or another. Even Frank was in deep with this hand. Bob would be broke if he didn’t win the pot, and Lloyd was down badly. The game was about over.

Sadie stayed in with three queens. “I’ll call your bluff,” she said, and met DJ’s gaze with a look that said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He grinned as she tossed her money onto the growing pile. He was going to have to show his hand.

BUCKHADBEENparked down the street from the Grandville building for hours and was beginning to wonder if he’d missed Titus, when the man came out the back door and headed for a large SUV parked across the alley. He seemed in a hurry as he slid behind the wheel.

From down the block, Buck was glad that his instincts had been right. Now he feared that he’d wasted his time. Maybe Grandville would only go home for the night. But it didn’t take long to realize that Titus wasn’t headed home.

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