by Robin Mahle
“Depends on the secret. You have a little on the side or something?”
“No. Nothing like that. It’s a long and complicated story that I won’t bore you with. Anyway, I just want to get this going so I can go home.”
“Same here. I have to see this through and hope that it ends better for me than I expect it to.”
“Listen, Alex.” Jacob rested his elbows on the table and leaned over. The pendant light cast a dubious shadow atop his head. “This shit gets too real, I’ll help you out, okay? You need to know that. I don’t know what Silas has power over, but we have more. This is our town. Not his.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Jacob spotted Silas approach.
“Gentlemen, it’s time. Feel free to bring your drinks.” Silas turned on his heel, and with a slow and purposeful gait, made his way to the backroom.
The man wore a salmon-colored button-down and white pants and reminded Alex of a Miami drug dealer. The hair on Silas’ head, thick, and the perfect mix of grey and black, was slicked back. It reflected the downlighting and gave him a sort of halo-effect, but there was no mistaking that Silas Levin wasn’t an angel. He followed Silas and continued to peer over his shoulder to make sure Jacob hadn’t deserted him.
Silas opened the door to the now-familiar space where six other men, only two of which Alex recalled from the previous game, sat at the table. “Our final guests have arrived. This is Alex and this is…I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.”
“Jacob.”
“Jacob. Please, have a seat gentlemen, and we’ll get started.”
Jacob pulled out the folding chair and sat down next to Alex and another man to which he had yet to be introduced. It was immediately apparent that these men had money. Jacob noticed a Rolex, a Tag Hauer, and Omega watches. This was no good ol’ boy game of poker either. These men were well-dressed in high-end labels, and their haircuts likely had a price tag higher than Jacob spent on his hair in a year. His first thought was mafia because he’d seen this type before. But it wouldn’t be the same ones. No way would the Indianapolis thugs come back here, those who hadn’t already been arrested. No this looked like something else, something of which Jacob couldn’t quite be sure, but they had to be involved in organized crime. And it probably had a lot to do with Silas Levin.
Riley was right to be concerned about this guy. As Jacob eyeballed the players, his sights turned to Levin, who stood only feet away, leaning against a post with his arms folded, like he was posing for a magazine cover. GQ, no doubt. He sized up these men in a manner of seconds and the results weren’t looking good for him or his pal, Alex. The idea this was a one-off for him seemed implausible as it now stood. Still, time would tell and now he had to play poker and lose, which wouldn’t be difficult for him since he wasn’t much of a card player in any case. Alex promised Silas would front the buy-in, and when the chips were placed in front of him, at least that much was true. But this money wasn’t his, not by a long shot. These chips would end up back in Silas’ hands, so he’d better do his best to lose.
“Two grand buy-in.” The dealer waited for everyone to ante up and then dealt the hands.
Jacob knew just enough about the game and in fact had watched poker videos on YouTube for the past couple of days in order to get a handle on the rules. But the idea was to lose without being too obvious. He peered at Alex, who seemed much calmer than he’d expected. Calmer than he was sitting in the booth. Maybe he knew what was at stake should he fail and get called out by the other players as some sort of plant.
After the cards were dealt, Jacob peered at his hand. A good start; he held pocket tens. He was in second-to-last position with Alex ahead of him. The question was, how was Alex going to play this? They hadn’t discussed the logistics of making this scheme plausible. Would he fold immediately or would he try to at least put up a fight?
“Fold.” Alex laid down his cards.
An indiscernible groan escaped him. Jacob couldn’t understand why Alex had given in so quickly, unless he simply hadn’t had a good hand, which was possible. Only turning over the cards would reveal that. But for now, all he could do was play the hand he’d been dealt.
Jacob kept his eyes on the cards and occasionally glanced at the other players, not wanting to give away anything. He hadn’t practiced his poker face and was never good at hiding his emotions as they paraded across his features.
When eyes were on him, Jacob knew what he had to do in order to make a good show of it. He raised 3 times the big blind, indicating he had a good hand, and shoved his chips into the pot.
“Fold,” said the man in last position.
Of the six players in this round, only two were left standing, Jacob and another man he didn’t know. Silas hadn’t made any introductions.
The dealer dealt the flop. Jacob prepared for another round of betting between himself and the other guy. He would need to be a little more aggressive this time. Make a real show of it to prove he knew what the hell he was doing, even if he didn’t. In a bold move, Jacob bet half the pot.
“Son of a bitch.” The other man tossed his cards onto the table. “I’m out. Fold.”
“The young buck takes the pot.” Silas smiled and walked around to Jacob, appearing ready to congratulate him. Instead, he placed his hand on Jacob’s shoulder and squeezed.
The pressure was enough to make Jacob uncomfortable but wasn’t enough to cause pain. It was a warning shot and Jacob heard it loud and clear.
Ethan pressed the button on his phone to check the time. “Midnight. Shit.” He was hunched down in the driver’s seat of his Tahoe still parked in the lot of the Crooked Horse. “How long are you staying, bro?”
Noting the time of Jacob’s departure and who, if anyone, would accompany him was Ethan’s sole purpose. He suspected this co-worker friend of his might be the root cause of Riley’s troubling visions of Jacob. There was no way to be certain, but he was the only variable Ethan could think of. The only thing in Jacob’s life that had changed most recently. While Jacob hadn’t revealed anything that would give rise to an answer, Ethan was going another way, looking into whoever Jacob was hanging around.
Still, the bar would close by 1am, and if he didn’t see Jacob roll out of the place by then, he’d start to worry. His purpose was to protect Riley whether she wanted him to or not. And if that meant keeping tabs on her live-in boyfriend, then that was what he would do.
He unleashed a wide yawn before cutting it short and instinctively lowering himself deeper into the seat. The door to the bar opened and two men walked outside. “Jacob.” He didn’t know the other one but assumed it was the co-worker. Both appeared, at this distance, to be sober. Good thing. And neither looked as though they’d been harmed in any way. Another good thing. So what had they been doing?
Maybe Jacob was being straight with him and he was just talking with this friend. He almost went with that until two more men appeared. They stood out and not in a good way. More like in a way that made it seem they were there for purposes that were perhaps less than legal. These guys, if Ethan didn’t know any better, looked like the mob. But how could that have been? They’d already chased the mob out of town last year. So who were they?
They caught up to Jacob and his friend and all four stopped in the parking lot several feet away from his Tahoe. For a moment, he realized Jacob would see his car, but it didn’t appear that Jacob was paying attention. In fact, his attention was wholly on those two men.
Ethan pressed the camera button on his phone and started taking pictures of the four of them, focusing in on the two he was certain didn’t belong in Owensville. When they started off again, the two gentlemen walking away with smiles on their faces, he began to feel more at ease. It seemed the meeting wasn’t a confrontational one. Good thing because he wasn’t prepared to jump out and brandish his weapon to stop a fight. His cover would be blown, and Jacob would never trust him again, if he trusted him now. Which he might not after he showed these pi
ctures to Riley. Sometimes, all it took was seeing a picture and she would see all she needed to know. It didn’t always work that way, as he’d noticed in the past, but if it did, then problem solved. And his covert activities could cease.
The man Jacob walked out with, likely his co-worker, entered his car and pulled away. Jacob had reached his, which was parked two rows away, and was stopped by one of the other men. His buddy had also left in his car.
“Oh, hell,” Ethan said. There was no way to know what was being said, but he did see the look on Jacob’s face. It appeared to be a fusion of unease and cordiality. And now his hackles raised.
Ethan waited for one wrong move, however, it seemed that would not come to pass. The man standing next to Jacob slapped him on the arm and wore a broad smile. Jacob wasn’t smiling. The moment the man walked away, his smile faded, and he slipped into his sedan.
Ethan appeared even more perplexed. “Okay. What the hell was that?”
There was only one thing Ethan could do to assuage Riley’s concerns and help Jacob out of what appeared to be a potential situation. He would need to find out who those two men were.
12
When the headlights of a car shone through Riley’s front window, she knew it was Jacob. A sense of relief swept through her that he had returned. She listened as the car’s engine died and the lights flickered off. Riley waited for him to enter with the sound of a key manipulating the lock. The door opened and she peered at Jacob as he walked in. “You look tired.”
He turned to her with some surprise. “What are you still doing up?” He raised his hand. “Never mind.” Jacob set down his keys in the bowl on the foyer table and walked into the living room.
CJ ran to him and jumped on his legs.
“Hey, buddy.” Jacob scratched behind his ears. “I bet you’re tired too.”
“Did everything go okay? With your friend, I mean?” Riley asked.
“Sure. He just needed a shoulder. Look, I’m beat. Can we just go to bed?”
She peered at him in search of meaning behind his words—a vision or a feeling—but nothing came. “That’s a good idea.” Riley uncurled from the sofa and padded toward him, rising to her tiptoes for a kiss. “I’m glad you were able to help out your friend. And I’m glad you’re home.” She started into the hall and that was when Riley sensed something in Jacob she had not sensed before. At least, not in a very long time. It was guilt. When he decided to leave Owensville for college, she’d sensed it then, but this felt more intense somehow. Riley stopped near the entrance to their bedroom to face him.
“What?” he asked in a whisper.
She held his gaze and he must’ve known what she was doing because he looked away for a moment. “Nothing. Let’s just get some rest. It’s late.”
The name Silas Levin still had no meaning to it, other than the fact that he was the owner of the Crooked Horse. As Riley peered at her monitor in search of some insight into this man, nothing materialized. No criminal record. No bankruptcies or foreclosures. Nothing to suggest he was a man who had lived a secret life in the criminal underground. Her probe into him was on the sly because the only one the captain had given her permission to look into was Wyatt Sims and he had committed murder, so there was something worth digging into. This was for her own purposes and had skirted around insubordination.
It was the look on Jacob’s face last night when he returned home. The guilt she felt inside him, like he was hiding something from her, and yet, she couldn’t see what it was, if there was anything there to see in the first place. Fairness never entered into the equation when it came to her gift and how she used it, and unfortunately for Jacob, he was the recipient on that occasion.
Riley often wondered how she would feel if he could see her thoughts and feelings. No doubt, it would be an unacceptable intrusion. So could she blame him if he tried to hide things from her? One’s thoughts shouldn’t be subjected to search and seizure and yet she was doing that very thing. However, she did recognize this and it was the reason she didn’t pursue a line of inquiry last night. Now all she could do was discover for herself why he would have felt that way with her and if it meant he was involved in something he shouldn’t be.
Her attention was sidetracked when Ethan approached her desk. He held two cups of coffee and placed one on the corner of her desk. “Sugar and cream, just the way you like it.”
“Thanks.” She reached for the paper cup.
He lowered himself into the seat across from her. “I suppose you want to know how last night went.”
“It had crossed my mind,” she replied.
Ethan appeared to want to prolong the suspense as he sipped ever so slowly on his coffee. “Well, I can’t say I learned much from my conversation with him. We drank beer and ate wings and talked about a lot of things. You were the topic of conversation for the early portion, but then we moved on.”
“So?” She leaned back and folded her arms in anticipation. “Do I have anything to worry about?”
“Frankly, Riley, I don’t know. You know me and you know I’m pretty good at reading people. Not as good as you, of course, but since I don’t share your God-given talents, I believe myself to be good at it. That said, I didn’t get anything from him.”
“Damn. I suppose I should be happy about that, but somehow, I’m not.”
“I didn’t get anything from him while we were together, however…”
At this, Riley’s interest piqued. “However?”
“I decided I was going to hang out for a while because Jacob mentioned he was meeting a friend later on. I assume he told you this?”
“He did.”
“Okay. Good. So I waited. And waited. And waited. By about midnight, he emerged with who I assume was his friend. I didn’t recognize him. Only less than a minute later, two men also walked out and approached them. These guys, Riley. These guys were not from here. I’ll stake my life on it.”
“What happened after that?” she pressed on.
“Jacob’s friend took off. I can’t even say for sure if the men said much to him. They might’ve but of course it’s not like I had wires on anyone. But when Jacob reached his car, one of the men caught up to him. It was like they were in the clear, and all of a sudden, one of the guys moves in on Jacob. I thought they were going to throw blows, and I was ready for that, but whatever the man said, Jacob didn’t seem upset by it or pleased or anything really. The man smiled, patted him on the back and left. Then Jacob left. That’s when I figured it was safe for me to take off.”
Ethan retrieved his cell phone. “Oh, I did manage to get a couple of shots of the men.” He opened the images and handed his phone to Riley. “Any idea who the hell they are?”
Riley peered at the images, zooming in for a better look.
“It was dark, and I wasn’t about to use my flash, so they’re pretty grainy.”
She shook her head. “I have no idea who they are. I’m not seeing anything either. Good, bad, or indifferent.” Riley returned the phone to him. “But we need to find out who they are.”
“I couldn’t agree more. What about talking to the bar owner?”
“Silas Levin? He’s squeaky clean,” she replied.
“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who frequents his bar,” Ethan replied.
“He already thinks we’re harassing him, and right now, I can see no good reason for us to make another visit. I think that ship has sailed. What about talking to Jacob’s friend?”
“That would have to be up to you to broach that topic with Jacob. But like I said, his friend took off. The man talked to Jacob alone, from where I stood.”
Riley peered at the captain’s office. “You think Ward would let us try out the facial recognition software they’re using in Indianapolis? We could ask Lieutenant Moody for some help.”
A wide smile played on Ethan’s lips. “I knew you’d come up with something. I think that’s our best bet, at least, to start. If we still don’t get answers after that, well, maybe
we talk to Jacob. But I know you don’t want to go there right now, so I’ll stand behind you on that count.”
“I’ll still talk to him and find out who his friend is. That might give us something without looking like I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. He hates it when I do that.”
“Can you blame him?”
“No. No, I cannot.”
Jacob entered the HVM office and hoisted his carrier bag atop his shoulder. The air-conditioned building brought relief from an overly warm and muggy June morning and he continued toward his cubicle. “Morning.” He nodded to a passing colleague.
It was Friday, and by the look of things, several of the staff were enjoying the day off. He wondered if he had missed the memo. After the late night, he would’ve been more than happy to grab an extra few hours of sleep this morning. But no such luck.
“Morning, Jacob. Hey, I was looking for Alex. Don’t suppose you’ve seen him yet?”
Jacob’s department manager, Ty Henry, rested his elbow on the short wall of the cubicle. His white button-down Oxford pulled tight across his plump midsection. “I heard you two were hanging out last night.”
“Who mentioned that?” Jacob set down his bag and regarded Ty once again.
“A couple of the guys. I asked if anyone had seen Alex and they said to come talk to you.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, we had a couple beers last night. I figured he would be here already. Did you try his cell?”
“Went to voicemail. Okay, I’m sure he’ll be in soon enough. But if you see him, do me a favor and send him my way. I wanted to talk to him about the revised structural drawings he resubmitted last week.”
“You got it, Boss.” Jacob sat down at his desk and turned on his computer. He peered at his phone and opened Alex’s contact information. “Hey man. You coming in today, or what? Boss is looking for you.” He sent the text message and returned to his email as his inbox loaded the far-too-many messages from just the night before. “Geez, do people ever sleep?”
