Against The Odds (Anna Dawson #1) (15 page)

“So why would you think that poker players would be?”

“Gamblers never forget,” I said.

“Kind of like elephants,” she said with just a touch of distaste in her voice.

“Kind of.”

“But poker players might not know about sports gamblers,” she pointed out.

“Odds are if you’re a big money poker player you dabble with bets. Or maybe more than dabble,” I added at her pointed look. “And a story like that would be legend status by now. If you were in the right circle.”

“Gambling circles,” she said.

“Yep.”

She took a deep breath, let out a large sigh. “I can get the money. I’ll have it in an envelope in your top desk drawer by the time you and Ben get home.”

“Thanks, Lor,” was all I said, though my mind was furiously racing wondering if she had that kind of money stashed somewhere in the house. And if so, how much more? Enough to get me out of Vince’s debt?

A vision of me ransacking my own home flashed before me and the distaste was palpable. I added Ben or Lorelei walking into a tossed room and watching me to the vision, and the notion fizzled away.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. “ You could just let the police handle it.”

I thought of Ben and Saul and Jimmy. And poor Danny. And Gus most likely hooked to tubes and machines a few doors down. But I’m ashamed to admit I mostly thought of the Louisville / Pitt game and what that would mean.

“This is something I have to do.”

“S
o, it’s thirty thousand on Saturday,” Vince confirmed. He sat at a horse race betting carrel in the Bellagio’s sports book, a biography of Donatello sitting in front of him, a marked-up horse racing line-up sheet pushed to the back of the carrel. “Are you going to have the money or are you here to make other arrangements?”

“Other arrangements,” I said. We both knew what that meant.

Vince nodded, then turned his chair away from the horse racing screen and toward the big digital board with all the sporting events and their odds on it.

 
“Sunday. Pitt / Louisville,” I said and waited a moment. The game wasn’t on the board yet, wouldn’t be until late Saturday.

“What’s your guess on the spread?” Vince asked me.

“Louisville giving ten,” I said. I was happy to see Vince nodded, agreeing with my prediction. It helped that I lived with one of the best oddsmakers ever.

Louisville would be a ten-point favorite, much closer than any other games they’d played, but the odds makers would take into consideration Pitt’s strong home court advantage at the Omni.

“Take Pitt and the points,” I said.
 

Vince seldom questioned my picks, but this time he turned to me. “Are you sure? Louisville’s been blowing out everybody.”

“They won’t on Sunday.”

He ran his long, graceful fingers along the cover of his book, tracing the title much like I had traced the
Sports Illustrated
letters earlier tonight at the hospital. “I don’t like Pitt only getting ten. You like something else on the board?”

I did, but that wouldn’t get me to Pittsburgh to ask questions.

“Maybe. But that’s the game I want to do. I want this over, my debt out from under me. I need to be with Ben.”

“Paulie told me about Gus. How’s he doing?”

“He’s stable now.”

“Good. Good. And the others? How are they doing?”

I thought of the boys and how I’d left them at the hospital. “They’re a little freaked out.”

“I would imagine. I never heard anything about Danny being in debt, by the way.”

“They don’t think that was the motive now.”

“No, it seems like something else is in play, with Gus and all.”

“Right. Which is why I need to be with Ben.”

“But you won’t be with him on Sunday?” he asked. His way of making sure I was taking care of the Pitt game myself.

I didn’t blame him. He was shelling out big money on a game. He wanted to make sure I wasn’t farming it out. Not that I’d ever considered doing that.

I knew Jimmy, Lorelei and Ben suspected that my trips were not entirely above board, but to my knowledge Vince and I—and most likely Paulie—were the only two that knew for sure about JoJo.

That’s how I intended it to stay.

“Okay. Your entire debt rides on Pitt getting ten points,” he said and I let out a breath I hadn’t known I’d held.

“Thank you,” I said. I got up to leave, but he reached out to stop me.

“How do you feel about the over/under?”

“Take the under, but you can’t hold me for that one.”

“Agreed.”

I walked away from Vince and out of the book room. My eyes automatically scanned the back of the poker room and landed on Jeffrey standing behind the desk.

I started to duck my head, not having the time, wanting to get back to the hospital, but his head came up at that moment and our eyes caught. I smiled and waved, but pointed out to the main floor, like I had to be going somewhere. He waved for me to come to him.

I turned and walked through the room, saying hello to some of the players I knew as I weaved around the tables. That kid who beat me the night Danny was killed—Jason—was there and he pointed to an empty seat at his table but I just gave him a small smile, shook my head, pointed to my watch and kept walking toward Jeffrey.

“How’s Gus doing?” Jeffrey asked as I neared him. I noticed he didn’t come out from behind the desk and I was glad. I thought if he tried to hug me, if I fell into Jeffrey’s arms, I might never want to leave, and I needed to get back to Ben.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“Jimmy was here earlier. He told me what’s been going on.” There was accusation in his voice and it took me a minute to realize that keeping Jeffrey apprised was my job.

“Yeah, it’s been pretty crazy. I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch.”

“I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I got a new phone.”

“And it didn’t occur to you to give me the number?”

No, it hadn’t, but instead of admitting it I said, “It’s just been so busy with the arrangements for Danny and now Gus.”

He studied me hard. He shook his head. “It just kind of makes my point for me, that’s all.”

“What point?” I asked, but I thought I knew where Jeffrey was going.

“That this is never going to be more than some late night screwing after we’re done working. We’re not even friends with benefits. Just fucking benefits.”

I blinked, taken back by his harshness. Jeffrey was nothing if not smooth, couth. He reminded me of Gus in that way.

“Does it need to be more?” I said, a bit of hostility seeping through though I tried to temper it. “It never needed to be before,” I added.

He looked down at the desk, and I read him like I would a tourist in from Des Moines playing his first hand of poker.

“Glenda,” I said, and his head popped back up.

“Nothing’s happened,” he said quickly, not even questioning how I’d guessed.
 
He knew how good of a player I was.

Glenda, one of the other poker room supervisors. The one who dressed as smartly as Jeffrey. I always thought they’d be great together, but the consolation of being right didn’t sit all that well with me.

She wore snoods, for Christsake.

“But something’s
going
to happen,” I led for him.

He shrugged. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you so badly. To see where you thought we were headed.”

Ah, so we were at the fork in the road, Jeffrey and I. He wanted me to step up. And maybe I could someday. But not today.

And not for Jeffrey.

“Good luck with her, Jeffrey,” I said, a gentleness in my voice. This, ultimately was my choice.

“Really? Anna, do you think…” But he didn’t finish. He could read me pretty well, too.

“I’m not giving up the Bellagio,” I said jokingly, although I was dead serious.

“No problem. I’ll always be happy to see you here, you know that.”

I did. “I’ll see you around,” I said and left before he could answer.

B
en and I headed home the next day at noon after Lorelei and Saul spelled us. They’d gotten Saul settled at our place and taken naps, then showered, ate and came back to the hospital.

Gus would be able to see visitors in a few hours, so I’d just get what I needed for Pittsburgh, let Ben get a quick nap and then drop him off at the hospital on my way to the airport.

In the drawer of my desk was a thick envelope full of hundred dollar bills. I put it aside to put in my money belt that I wore under my clothes when going through airports.

On top of the desk was a credit card in my name with a note from Lorelei. “For your flight and expenses. I reserved several flights, but wasn’t sure which one you’d want. Just call this number and tell them and they’ll cancel the others.”

I usually paid in cash for all things when JoJo came out to play, not wanting a paper trail, but there was a legitimate reason Anna Dawson was headed to Pittsburgh, so using the credit card would be fine.

I called the airlines, choosing the flight times I wanted, then headed to my room. I pushed away the hanging clothes in my closet, pulled out a suitcase, unzipped it and stared at JoJo’s clothes.

I took a deep breath and started to pack.

Chapter Twelve

T
his time I didn’t even feel all that bad as I watched the drugged player lying across the hotel bed.

Oh, I was disgusted with myself for being in this position again, but the star center had been so arrogant, it’d been almost a pleasure to watch him totter and fall back onto the bed.

The bigger they are…

The whole thing had gone off like clockwork. JoJo had no trouble finding the room of Louisville’s scoring machine. A quick call to the front desk asking to be patched to Richardson’s room. A fake inquiry from room service to Karl Richardson himself got the room number.

I’d become JoJo in my own room at the Omni Hotel, two floors down. Gaining entrance had been even simpler than it had with Raymond Joseph and Lurch back in Minnesota. Richardson had even thought JoJo had been ordered for him—like he deserved it.

Who knew, maybe he got hookers from grateful alumni on a regular basis.

 
Maybe that’s why he had no roommate.

Though after only a few minutes with him—and his ego—I imagined that a rare single room for a visiting team member was a prerequisite he demanded as his due.

The kid had none of the enthusiasm for his team that Raymond Joseph had displayed. No pride in his school. He was obviously just racking up points and stats so that his draft position would be one of the highest. No doubt he’d bolt for the NBA after this, his sophomore year.

There’d been a few anxious moments while trying to keep his grabby hands off of me until the drug kicked in, but I’d doubled the normal dose for the giant and was rewarded with quick effects.

I went over to the bed, made sure his breathing was steady. I started to straighten his legs and neck, then stopped myself. Let him wake up with one hell of a crick in his neck as well as the after-effects of the drug.

I gathered up my things, careful to eradicate any evidence of my time in the room. I poked my head out into the hallway, determined it was clear and hurried to the stairwell door.

Back in my room, I quickly showered and changed, left JoJo strewn across the floor, and headed back out into the night.

I
really liked Pittsburgh. The working-class feel to parts appealed to my Midwest background. The stadium area was nicely laid out for a town that loved its teams.

Mount Washington sat over the city, as if its guardian. Beautiful homes sat at the top, and an apartment building was built into the side of the hill itself. Gondola-type cars that ran on a steep track up and down the hill were, I was told by my cab driver, the Inclines.

I wanted to take the Incline to the top of Mount Washington, it looked so cool and wasn’t anything I’d ever ridden in before, but by the time I got to it, it had shut down for the night. Instead I continued on in the cab to the home of the poker game.

I’d been surprised when Jimmy told me that the game would be at a private home, used to Vince’s games in hotel suites.

Apparently, it was the same five or six high rollers from the Pittsburgh area. A couple of guys came regularly from Philly. They allowed guests, but it was typically on an invitation basis.

I didn’t know what guy Jimmy knew to get me in, but the fact that he did, and that their monthly game was being played this week—the night before Pitt played at home—had me feeling extra lucky as I walked to the front door of the home.

Mansion was more like it, though it was very modern looking. Not at all stuffy.
 
If I wasn’t mistaken, it was the house I’d seen from the bottom of the Mount. The one that had a circular extension of all windows that jutted out over the side of the hill. I hoped I would be able to see that room, the view must be amazing.