Page 27 of A Match Made in Coven
Tiffany’s eyes darted around before she whispered, “I don’t know the specifics, but it was a big sum. He made good in time, but management had to ban him, of course. Haven’t seen him since.”
Sarah Michelle and Lorcan exchanged a puzzled glance. If Elijah had been banned a year ago, then why had his phone pinged in Everett as recently and regularly as Andromeda had confirmed the night before?
They spent the next hour canvassing the casino staff, but no one had spotted Elijah in the past twelve months. Dead ends everywhere they turned.
“I don’t get it,” Sarah Michelle huffed as they regrouped near the entrance. “Andromeda’s never wrong about a trace. If Elijah’s phone was pinging here, then he must have been in the area.”
“But not inside the casino,” Lorcan mused, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “So where else would a gambling addict go when his favorite haunt cuts him off?”
As if summoned by the question, a hulking figure in a black suit detached from the wall and approached them. Sarah Michelle tensed, hand drifting toward her stunner, but the man held up his hands in a placating gesture.
“Easy there, detective. I couldn’t help overhearing, and I have some information for you. About Mr. Preston.”
“We’re listening.” Lorcan crossed his arms over his broad chest.
The bouncer glanced around furtively before jerking his head toward a quieter corner of the lobby. Sarah Michelle and Lorcan followed him. She might’ve dropped her hands from the gun but was still on high alert.
Once they were out of earshot of the main floor, the bouncer spoke in a low rumble. “Name’s Frank. I’ve worked here for years, and I remember Mr. Preston well. Used to chat with him sometimes, I tried to get him to seek help. But he never listened.”
Sarah Michelle nodded encouragingly. “Go on.”
Frank hesitated, then dropped his voice even lower. “Look, when the licensed casinos close their doors to someone like Mr. Preston… there are other places they can go. Less reputable gigs, if you catch my drift.”
Understanding dawned in Lorcan’s eyes. “Off the books you mean.”
Frank shrugged noncommittally, but his silence spoke volumes.
Lorcan leaned in closer. “Frank, Elijah was my best friend, if you know of any specific locations—”
“I ain’t no snitch,” Frank cut him off gruffly. “You didn’t hear none of this from me, we clear?”
“Absolutely,” Sarah Michelle assured him. “We appreciate the tip.”
Frank grunted, already turning to walk away. “Yeah, well. Just don’t go saying I didn’t warn you. Those places… they’re not for the faint of heart.”
As the bouncer lumbered off, Lorcan turned to Sarah Michelle with a raised eyebrow. “Why did you let him go? We could have interrogated him further, forced his hand to tell us where to look.”
Sarah Michelle grabbed Lorcan’s arm, her fingers tingling at the contact, and pulled him toward the exit. “Not here,” she hissed, glancing around. “Let’s go.”
Once outside, the natural light stung her eyes after the muffled, “no way to tell the time of the day” interior of the casino. The hotel’s gaudy neon lights faded behind them as they strode toward the parking lot, fallen leaves crunching under their feet.
“We didn’t need to push Frank,” Sarah Michelle explained, her breath forming little puffs in the chilly air. “There are other ways to find out about underground gambling dens.”
Lorcan still looked skeptical. “How?”
Sarah Michelle smirked. “Oh, I have my sources… I know a rat who knows a rat…”
“How delightfully vague. You mean you have an informant?”
They reached Lorcan’s car, the black paint gleaming like obsidian in the weak fall sunlight. Sarah Michelle opened the passenger door and before she got in, her smirk widened into a full-blown grin. “No, just a sewer rat.”
Chapter Fifteen
A Ditch of Feelings
LORCAN
After they left the casino and got back in the car, Sarah Michelle asked Lorcan to pull up at a gas station. As he waited, she hopped out and returned a minute later with a bag of cheese sticks.
