Page 22 of Slashes in the Snow
“Just a minute,” I hold him off. “I need to have a word with Hawk first.” Before this card game goes down, I need to know the status of his little investigation. It’s been radio silence on his end. Hawk and I head to the back door to talk. It’s a private entrance only utilized by the VIP members of the club. Once outside, I ask for the scoop. “Any word on Kira’s father?”
“Not much.” Hawk spies our surroundings. The rear of the building backs up to woods that the teenagers sometimes sneak away to drink in. Breaker and I had plenty of fun times back there. “I took a look at his financials and ran a background check. He’s an outstanding citizen.” There is extreme sarcasm in his voice. “He likes high-priced alcohol and high-priced ladies. Preferably at the same time. He also likes to gamble and has had several DUIs, which have all been mysteriously dismissed. He’s got friends in high places. And some pretty low ones.”
“Think he’s got one of those friends messing with Kira?”
“If he does, there isn’t a money trail. He’s not in the country at the moment, though. Perfect alibi if he is fucking around with her.”
“She said he’s twisted.”
“From what I found out, that’s true. Sparkly clean on the outside, dirty and disgusting on the inside. I read some of the transcripts from his divorce from Kira’s mom. Lots of abuse.”
“Physical?”
“All fucking kinds.”
“Kira, too?” I try to keep my tone even. I shouldn’t fuckin’ care about her past. I shouldn’t fuckin’ care about her at all. But that seems harder said than done.
“It didn’t say, but I can dig deeper.”
“Nah, that’s okay. Just keep your eye on him. I want to be ready if he is planning something. She’s convinced she saw someone that night.”
“And you’re not?” Hawk questions.
I shrug, fiddling with the thick silver ring on my index finger. “The cameras didn’t catch anything.”
“The power went out,” Hawk argues.
“Even so. They should have caught something, no? That place is rigged better than the Bellagio. And if someone was lurking around, security should have picked up something. Movement, anything. That property is huge. And just to magically appear on the back patio? Too easy,” I speculate.
Hawk rubs his forehead contemplatively. “In theory, yeah. That argument holds water, unless no one was there in the first place, and she just freaked herself out.”
“That’s what I want to find out.”
“I’m doing all I can. Utilizing every resource.”
“That’s all I ask, brother.” I clasp his hand in thanks. “Let’s get back before Bone has an aneurysm.”
“He’s looking to lose all his money tonight.” Hawk rubs his hands together, ready and willing to take it all.
“You look different,” I mess around with him as we walk back inside.
Hawk shoots me a crooked smile. “Shut the fuck up, man.” He knows exactly what I’m getting at. He’s sporting his contacts. That means two things. He’s out to get drunk and out to get laid.
“Ready for some shit?” Tempest resumes shuffling the cards.
“Let’s do this.” I settle into my chair and get comfortable for the ride. He shoots two cards out to each of us. I check my hand on the sly. King of hearts and a two of diamonds. Not a terrible start.
I watch the faces around me, reading each and every one of them. We’ve been playing together for years, so I know their tells. Most of the time. Hawk is the hardest to read. He’s got a poker face as stone cold as my father’s.
I push the thought of him directly out of my head. Not tonight Satan, not tonight.
Hawk and I both throw in the blind, or initial bet, and then we’re off to the races. Bone calls, Breaker calls, and Vet and Tempest fold. Tempest throws out the flop. King of diamonds, three of hearts, and six of clubs. Things get interesting pretty quick. A round of bets go again. I raise, with a pair of kings. Bone raises, Breaker folds. Tempest flips the turn card, and it’s a jack of spades. Bone’s lip twitches, and I know right then he’s got something in his hand. But I don’t go down that easily. I throw in, wanting to see where this is going to go. Tempest turns over the river, and my pulse strikes my throat like a whip. This is what is so addictive about poker. It’s a high-speed chase right at your fingertips. As fast as it is slow, I hold my breath, waiting to see what card is shown. A king of clubs stares back at us all. Bone’s face turns a lovely shade of red as he pushes all his chips forward.
“All in,” he growls like a lion.
We all shake our heads. Bone loves poker, but he isn’t the best at it. He’s a go big or go home kind of guy, and when it comes to the game, he goes home a lot.
I call.
