Page 23 of Trick's Trap

“I wish you would stop calling it that,” Trick groused. “You promised to give Tahlia the benefit of the doubt. It’s not like you have enough evidence to charge her with anything. You don’t even have a body.”

Ethan’s lips flattened. “You’re starting to sound like Calen and Liam when they start throwing their weight around. Do me a favor and don’t start acting like them now, too. You need to focus on ID’ing the girl and convincing her to trust you. Whatever she’s mixed up in is bad. That lot in Florida is a nasty bunch.”

Trick flicked Ethan and annoyed glance, but he nodded. He didn’t need to be told there was a lot at stake.

After the blood results came in, Jason and Ethan reached out to the authorities in Florida. They wanted to know which once of Tahlia’s cousins was missing, presumed dead. The bureau in Miami promised to check it out, but instead of hearing back from them, they were contacted by a prestigious Manhattan law firm.

A flood of threats followed. Jason and Ethan were strongly advised in the harshest legalese not to contact any member of Tahlia’s family. Harassment of any kind would be met with a legal shitstorm of biblical proportions.

It’s like they didn’t care about the welfare of one of their own.

Trick had met families like that before—the kind that dealt with their own problems internally. If Tahlia was that problem, then she needed help. A lot of it.

“She was so thin and pale the last time I saw her, like she’d skipped a lot of meals.”My last meal was steak. As if on cue his stomach began to hurt.

“Not by choice, I’m sure,” Ethan observed quietly, giving him a once over before continuing to fiddle with the surveillance equipment.

He shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of anyone going hungry or being out in this cold without a warm coat, but the thought ofherin those circumstances…shit, it keeps me up at night. “

Ethan sighed, coming up behind him. “You’ve given this girl her best shot to come in out of the cold with this setup,” he said, gesturing at the feeds that covered every angle of the makeshift casino floor. “But you need to be prepared. There’s a chance she may not show tonight.”

Trick waved away the complications. “If she doesn’t come, I’ll try again in another neighborhood. Is Jason ready?”

“Yeah, he’s behind the bar. I wouldn’t order anything complicated if I were you. His cocktail-making skills are total crap.”

“I know.” Trick wrinkled his nose, remembering a sad attempt at a Rob Roy that turned his stomach. “Remind me why he’s out there playing bartender instead of you?”

“Because the most elaborate thing I can do behind a bar is pouring a pint.” Ethan adjusted his tie.

Trick snickered. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re kind of shit at that. The last one you poured me had way too big a head.”

Ethan snorted and shoved him toward the kitchen doors. “Get out there and mingle, but keep out of sight of the entrance. If your girl shows, we don’t want her to make you and bolt before we can stop her.”

Trick peeked through the small porthole in the door. In the short time since he’d last checked, the crowd had grown. The room was busy enough to blend into now. Without another word, he pushed open the swinging door and went out to walk the floor.

Maybe I should open a real casino. This place had once been a well-known card room, but in the last couple years, the clientele had dropped off until it was almost dead. Consequently, asking to borrow the venue had been easy. The proprietors welcomed his input, seeing it as an attempt to breathe new life into their spot. They were going to be pleased. Though his name and reputation pulled this crowd in the door, it was the little touches he’d added that kept them.

Smoking artisanal cocktails served over dry ice were being handed out by waiters in dapper twenties dress. Every blackjack table was full, and he couldn’t even see the craps table behind the throng.

The baccarat group was still a little thin, but it was steadily building up. The sound of roulette table spinning underscored the droning murmur of conversation.

According to the doorman, over half a dozen women claimed their thousand dollars in chips. One or two turned their chips over to the boyfriend or husband they had accompanied, but the rest hung onto them. Trick eagerly checked out those four, mixing and talking with all the guests he knew by name, but none of the women were Tahlia.

Too wired to relax, he wandered to the bar to ask his brother-in-law for a beer. He handed him a cognac instead.

“You need to relax,” Jason leaned in to mutter. “You’re starting to sweat. If your pretty face wasn’t so familiar, this crowd would be looking for an exit right now. Some of them are probably half-expecting a police raid.”

Trick glanced around. One of the guys he knew from the pro-circuit was scrutinizing him and Jason closely. He smiled reflexively, lifting his glass in friendly salute before downing it. The man relaxed and turned his attention back to his game.

“Better,” Jason muttered, pouring him a refill. His eyes were fixed on a point behind his right shoulder. “Now keep that up when you talk to Tahlia. And for God’s sake, don’t rush over there. Let her come to you.”

Picking up his glass, Trick turned around, trying to project an air of careless unconcern when the reality was he was burning up to know if Jason was right. He sipped and sauntered, slowly making his way to the cashier, where a slim brunette in a black dress was standing with her back to him.

It is her. He couldn’t see her face, but his heart was beating too fast for it to be anybody else. Tahlia was claiming her complimentary chips. When she turned to face him, her eyes were on the chips. They shined brightly as if she was near tears.

Tahlia was blinking rapidly, clutching the small tray of chips like they were a lifeline. He was in front of her before she was aware of him.

“Hello, Ace. Care for a rematch?” he asked softly.

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