Page 50 of Poker
“So, we can rule them out,” she says, relief in her tone.
“Not necessarily,” Ghost states. “It just means they aren’t likely suspects. But until we know for sure, we aren’t rulinganyoneout one hundred percent.”
She nods in understanding.
“Tracer, can you put all the notes up on the screen so we can see them all side by side?” I ask.
He connects his laptop to the projector, and it’s only moments before we can all see what he can see.
“We’ve all gone over these letters many times, but we’re missing something,” Screamer says, frustration in his tone.
“I’ve run them through different programs to see if there’s a hidden code, but nothing pops,” Tracer explains.
The room grows quiet as we stare at the notes, but then Meri’s hand goes to her mouth, and she jumps to her feet and races to the screen.
“What’re you seeing?” Crow asks.
“I don’t…” She shakes her head. “Look,” she orders, pointing to each note one at a time. “A-N-D-E-R-S.”
“That mean something to you?” I ask.
“It’s a name,” she says. “Specifically, a last name.”
“Spit it out, woman,” Python snaps, and I whip my head in his direction.
“Speak to her like that again, and you’ll have no hands left to tattoo with,” I seethe.
Python lifts his hands. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Meri assures him. “He’s just cranky.” I growl, and the little minx grins. Then she sobers and takes a deep breath. “Anders is Malcolm’s last name.”
“Malcolm, from your security team?” I ask, and she nods. “It makes sense that it would be him. All of the notes were signed with an initial that could’ve matched a player. Wait… The ‘A’? Who did you think that was?”
“Addison,” Meri admits. “I got them right after she came with you, and since it just said ‘thank you for an entertaining evening’, she was my assumption.”
“I can see that.” Shifting my attention to Tracer, I ask, “Nothing popped with Malcolm?”
“Not a damn thing. He was raised by his father, got good grades in school, and was captain of the football team. He enlisted right out of high school and served four years in the Air Force. I’m assuming that’s what made him a good hire for the security team. Dude doesn’t have so much as a parking ticket.”
“I find that hard to believe,” I muse.
Tracer shrugs. “Malcolm could just be your run-of-the-mill creep.”
“This actually makes me feel better,” Meri says, returning to my lap.
“You feel better about this?” Crow asks.
“Yeah, I mean, think about it. If he’s a run-of-the-mill creep, that means we can use run-of-the-mill ways to get him, right?”
“Whaddya have in mind?” Journey questions.
Meri scoffs like it should be obvious. “Get him at the next game. There’s no way he knows we’re onto him. All I have to do is tell him that we’re returning to business as usual, and he’ll be there.”
“I’m not leaving you there without club protection,” I bark.
“I figured you’d say that,” she says sweetly. “You’ll be there, of course, and we
can put two brothers in the game as well. He doesn’t know who all of you are.”
