Page 8 of Texas Hold Em'
Dan chuckled. “Stay safe, Hart.”
“You too.”
He ended the call.
The silence of Tex’s apartment echoed around me. Overhead, I peered into cobwebs clinging to exposed pipes in the ceiling.
Having Dan here would have changed everything. I hadn’t realized how much I was craving comfort until I heard his voice on the other line. The warmth in his greeting and the way he genuinely wanted to make sure I was okay, it reminded me I needed a friend.
“Or a distraction,” I said as I moved from the kitchen to the couch. I collapsed into it, collected my laptop from where I’d left it on the coffee table, and set it up in my lap. Research had always been a trusted companion. When the going got tough, there was nothing I couldn’t drown in Google searches.
So I typed the name “Walter Bates” into the search bar.
Dozens of links flooded the search engine page, all unrelated to the Walter Bates I was looking for. I pursed my lips. I needed to get more specific.
So I typed “Walter Bates, Reno” and hit enter.
Just like that, a bunch of stuff popped up. No photos appeared, but there were tons of brief articles about all the things that had happened in the past couple of months. I already knew about those, though. Ontop of that, there were honorable mentions in police documents about donations from him and his association.
“Association,” I scoffed. “More like trailer-park syndicate.”
A couple more clicks and I found myself looking at a picture of a beautiful woman with shocking white hair and red lipstick. The name under her photo read “Caroline Bates.” His daughter.
I studied her features. She looked nothing like her father except for her brilliant blue eyes. They were sharp and calculating, even looking into a camera lens.
And evil.
What did a creature like herfeel? Was she capable of feeling anything at all?
I read more about her and learned that she seemed to call shots just like her father. She had more of an online presence than him and didn’t seem to be making any effort to look like she was something other than what she was—the daughter of a criminal who knew his legacy would soon be her own.
“A dangerous combination,” I said.
Did Walter see the threat that rested in his own daughter? Or was she his blind spot?
Interesting.
In every job I’d ever worked, there was always a pawn close to the target worth getting close to. Maybe Caroline was my pawn. Perhaps I could use the blonde-haired vixen to my advantage.
Perhaps Bates’s own progeny was the key to burning down his empire.
One thing I knew for certain was I couldn’t do any of this alone. I needed the wild animals I’d told Dan about, and I knew the only two places to look for them.
CHAPTER 5
JAMESON
Samantha stepped aside and let us lumber inside her and Jackson’s house. She waved a hand in front of her face and scrunched up her nose as I brushed past her. “Holy shit, you boys stink.”
Jackson came in behind me and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yeah well, we’re working onyourbar, so no complaining.”
She clasped her hands together and gave him an innocent smile. “I wasn’t complaining. Just stating a fact. Let’s take this out back, shall we?” Under her breath she muttered, “I don’t think I have enough candles to mask this.”
Suzie and Mason brought up the rear after the other men. The two women bustled off into the kitchen while the rest of us followed Sam’s orders and moved through the dining room, out the sliding glass doors, and onto the nicely appointed back deck.
Before Sam came around, Jackson’s deck had been pretty bare bones. The only furniture it used to have were camping chairs in obnoxious shades of green, red, and orange. A minimum of two coolers always rested against the side of the house filled with beer, and in the cupholder of one of the chairs was an airtight container with pre-rolled joints.
Sam had really made this place her own. Or rather, their own.
