Page 22 of Trick's Trap

“It does?”

“Sure does, sweetie. Now go on.”

Tahlia sniffed and nodded. She hobbled to the office chair, browsing as directed on the ancient computer, but stopped when Gina came back with the coffee.

“I talked to the day manager. She’s out on the floor now. I’m afraid they don’t have a bed for tonight, but you’re in luck. You can have that couch.”

Gina pointed to the worn brown sofa by the door. “I’ve napped on the thing myself. It’s no worse than one of the cots from the main room. If you fold those long legs of yours, you’ll fit okay. Plus, you can play solitaire on the guest account. Sorry, it’s too old to support any other games,” Gina finished with a nod at the computer.

Tahlia smiled wanly. “Thank you. And if you ever change your mind, my offer still stands to balance the account books for this place or the catering company. I’m very good at math.”

“I’m sure you are, but we pay an accountant for that. Just focus on resting up.”

Gina left her alone after that. Dejected and in pain, Tahlia tried to regroup. After a long nap, she drank the cold coffee Gina left on the desk and even played a few hands of solitaire, but it was dull after the thrill of poker against human opponents. Especially cardsharps like Patrick…

That night playing him had been the most thrilling of her entire life.So far, she told herself sternly. She needed to stay positive. There would be other nights like it. This was only a temporary setback. She’d heal up and go back to work for Gina long enough to earn bus fare to California.

Once there, she’d hit a few Indian casinos. Mexico might be fun to visit but seemed too dangerous for an inexperienced traveler like her to settle in, so she’d search for a real job in Europe or Canada. Also, the only foreign language she was truly fluent in was math…

On impulse, she logged into the email account she’d created for her poker alias. Despite not using the account for anything but poker, she had a ton of spam, most of it for online gaming sites.

If only I’d saved a little credit on one of those, she thought. But now she didn’t even have cash for bus fare, let alone a credit card. Not that any of her accounts were safe to use. The only ones she had were in her real name.

Deleting one particularly egregious email, she scanned the rest of the subject lines. One jumped out at her.Ladies NightSpecial Event, Manhattan.The email was from the King of Spades, the special account that belonged to Chao’s casino.

She opened the message. It was addressed to her gambling pseudonym Maria Diaz.

A complimentary thousand dollars in chips to any women who enter the doors before ten pm. No minimum buy-in. Ten Grand Pot. Elite players, by invitation only.

“What the hell?” she said aloud. Who in their right mind would give away that much cash to every woman who came to play?

Skeptical, Tahlia checked her favorite poker forum. News of the game was all over it. The free chips were dismissed as a promotional stunt. Various users claimed the list had no women or at most one or two. The no-minimum buy-in was also being picked apart. Chao’s elite table in Boston had a five-hundred-dollar minimum.

Her skin began to prick with excitement. The game was local and just a few days away. The address was less than ten minutes by train. Walking it would take her less than a half hour. She wouldn’t have to borrow subway fare.

She glanced down at her worn black pants and thin denim jacket, and her heart sank. This game was a godsend, but she wouldn’t get past the bouncer in these clothes. Thanks to the mugging, they were the only ones she had.

When Gina came in to tell her lunch was ready, Tahlia pushed herself to stand despite the pain. “Gina, do you by chance have a dress I can borrow?”

The peal of laughter was answer enough. Tahlia quickly masked her disappointment. She was being presumptuous.

“I’m sorry. You’ve done so much for me already. Please, forget I said anything.”

“Oh, sweetie, it’s not that. You’re welcome to anything in my closet, but none of it is going to fit you. All my dresses would hang on you like a tent,” she said, eyeing Tahlia’s svelte form. “But maybe my daughter has something that’ll do. It’ll be short on you, though, so I better lend you a razor, too. You need one.”

It was nothing less than the truth, but for some reason, Tahlia found that hilarious.

Laughing was surprisingly painful. She’d forgotten her injuries. But she put her hands on her ribs and kept laughing anyway.

Chapter 13

Trick squinted at the grainy video feed on Ethan’s tablet. “Why didn’t you let me buy new cameras?” he groaned.

How would he be able to tell if any of the women arriving was Tahlia with this crap resolution?

“The bureau doesn’t have as much money as the Caislean. Especially for an off-book sting operation,” Ethan replied.

The agent was busy setting up his surveillance equipment on the empty prep table. They weren’t serving a formal dinner, only drinks. They had the kitchen to themselves.

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