Page 117 of Close Pursuit

“If it wasn’t raining, you’d see the skyline of Atlantic City ahead of us, now,” Alex replied.

They drove a few more minutes, and the underbellies of the thick rain clouds began to glow garish red. It was nearly two a.m., but the casinos were still going strong. Their flashy light displays lit the night. About halfway down the strip, the huge wagon wheel and cowboy boot of the Cartwheel Casino came into sight.

“We gonna make a direct approach?” Ian gritted out.

Alex shook his head. “Russians will have the place staked out by now. Their spies inside the Cartwheel will have told them she’s there.”

“But the Russian spotters won’t make a run at her?”

“The Cartwheel is traditional New York mafia turf. The Russians won’t confront another mob family there directly…I hope. And besides, now that the Russians know Katie and the baby are tight with me, they can grab her any time in the future and use her against me.”

Ian swore luridly. “As soon as we’ve got her back, I’m telling her to dump your ass like a hot potato.”

Alex mentally winced. If she were his sister and was involved with a bastard like him, he’d do the exact same thing. He maneuvered the Porsche into a parking spot along the main drag about a block from the Cartwheel, eyeing the surprisingly heavy foot traffic and cruising cars carefully.

“How mobile are you?” he asked Ian.

“I can walk. Run a little.”

“How sneaky can you be?”

Ian grinned like the wolf he was. “As sneaky as you need.”

They waited until what looked like a bachelor party with a dozen guys singing, laughing, and staggering drunkenly came along. Alex and Ian slipped out of the car and in with the guys.

Ian said jovially, “Hey! You guys know where to find a party?”

Laughter and introductions ensued, and Alex slid into the role of quiet sidekick to Ian’s dynamically outgoing personality. Which gave him the freedom to watch for Russian lookouts.

“Ten o’clock. Thirty yards,” he murmured.

Ian’s eyelids barely flickered in acknowledgement, but both of them managed to be engrossed in storytelling and facing away from the Russian spotter when they passed the guy’s position.

The bachelor party wasn’t headed for the Cartwheel, but when Alex shared that he’d heard from an inside source that the slot machines had been set to pay out extra, the drunk group willingly veered into the garish western-themed casino.

“Where to?” Ian muttered.

“Blue Moon Saloon. Back side of the casino.”

“You go on. I’ll run interference out here.”

Alex nodded and moved away from the cluster of guys. Casinos were easy to move around in unseen. The sight lines were lousy, the lights and noises tremendously distracting to anyone trying to watch a single subject move around. A gray-haired woman hit a big enough jackpot to spill coins on the floor and he stopped to help her pick them up. He used the time crouching to clear his tail. So far so good. He pocketed a handful of the tokens and moved on, adopting the wandering stance of a gambler, pausing now and then to feed a coin into a one-armed bandit and pray he didn’t win anything.

Just a few more minutes, Katie and Dawn.

He spotted the blue neon sign advertising the bar he knew to be DeMecci’s ‘office’. There. One of Dominic’s boys was lounging outside the door. Alex spotted Ian sliding around behind the guy and made a subtle hand gesture to wave off Katie’s brother.

He walked up to the mobster. “Long time no see, Sergio. The boss waiting for me?”

“You got giantcajonesto show up here, asshole.”

“I need a wheelbarrow to haul ‘em around,” Alex replied dryly.

The mobster laughed and jerked his head for Alex to follow. They walked into the bowels of the bar that had seen a few of Alex’s worst binges in years past. The ripple of unease that passed through him was not just about facing Dominic DeMecci.

His gaze roved around the back room quickly, and his gut tightened to see that Katie and the baby were nowhere in sight.

“Alexei, you son of a bitch, what brings you to me on bended knee?”

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