Bad Beat

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Bad Beat Page 14

by Robin Mahle


  “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that. I know you were worried about me.” He held her gaze as though he would never let it go. “I’m scared, Riley. There are things I’ve done, kept from you, in an effort to help someone else. I think it could backfire on me now. And I think my friend might’ve paid a price for something he didn’t owe.”

  Riley took in a breath before sitting up and switching on the side table lamp. The soft amber glow revealed the depth of Jacob’s fear, and now she could see everything he’d tried so hard to keep from her. “We’re going to have to keep up appearances.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “This poker game you and Alex were in last night. I have to assume this is the reason he’s now missing. I’m sorry, but your face says it all.”

  “Of course it does,” he replied.

  “I won’t let that happen to you. So we’re going to have to come up with a plan to make sure no one knows you’re working with us.”

  “Working with who?” Jacob finally sat up. “The cops? I don’t know, Riley. Alex asked for my help and I helped. Silas Levin wanted us to throw the games, make the players believe we were novices, and then he swoops in and cleans house. Not obviously, though. He’s smart about how he plays it.”

  “The men who approached you and Alex in the parking lot, were they in the game too?”

  “Yes, and they lost a lot of money, but they thought we did too, so there weren’t any hard feelings. Well, I didn’t think there were.”

  “Okay. So, tomorrow, you’ll give us a description. Ethan’s got pictures of your conversations, but they’re just too grainy. Then we’ll see what we can dig up and keep trying to locate your friend.”

  “You said we should have a plan,” he added.

  “It’s finally clicked. I know why Carl showed me those cards that day, six months ago. It all comes down to this. He knew it was coming, somehow, and it was a warning. I only wish I’d realized it sooner. I might’ve been able to prevent whatever happened with your friend. But I just couldn’t see it then.”

  “You were in so much pain after losing Carl. How could you have put two and two together then? But you can now. And that’s what we’ll have to focus on. Maybe this is why you had the visions of me.”

  “But I’ve had others like that—about Dan not too long ago. So maybe this is the same thing, a warning.” She considered the idea forming in her mind. “You’re going to have to keep playing this game with Levin. You’ll have to pretend you have no idea what happened to Alex. That should be easy because you two weren’t close and we really don’t know what happened.”

  “And then what?”

  “Then we’ll find a way to take him down. And the rest of them because I suspect none of the people participating in those games are upstanding citizens. We’ll find out if they’re involved in Alex’s disappearance and we’ll take down each one of them.”

  Silas Levin pushed back his thick salty hair and stood with his legs shoulder-length apart in front of the door. This condominium building was owned by the person behind that door and was the one who Silas Levin had come to see. He cleared his throat and rapped on the door.

  A heavy-set man greeted him with an impish grin. “Silas. I was concerned you wouldn’t show, considering the late hour. Please, come in.”

  With some hesitation, Silas entered the lavish penthouse condo. “It took me longer than I anticipated. I apologize for the time.”

  “These things happen. I do hope you have what you promised.” In stark contrast to Silas, Eli Foster was robust with olive skin and deeply receded black hair. His origins were too difficult to pin down, though he spoke with a clear midwestern accent. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Thank you, no. I won’t be taking up much of your time and I still have a long drive ahead of me.”

  Foster walked to a wet bar opposite his enormous big screen television and poured a shot of gin for himself. “Surely you don’t intend on driving back to that Podunk town of yours tonight?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Levin forced a smile. “I have to get the bar ready to open by midday.” He retrieved a manila envelope from his back pocket, its thick, rectangular shape leaving no room for doubt as to its contents. “I have the money for you.”

  Foster waddled toward him. “All of it?”

  “Just what we agreed upon—for now.”

  “Of course. That’s all that is required of you, Silas—for now.” He slid his sausage-like index finger under the lip and ripped open the envelope. A broad smile stretched across his lips as he nodded. “Excellent. I’m sure it’s all here. No need to count it.”

  “Thank you, Eli. I appreciate your trust.” Silas shifted his weight. “If there’s nothing else?”

  “Right, of course, your long drive back.” Foster stepped closer to Levin and locked eyes with him. “You know, Silas, you would’ve been better off staying here in Chicago. We had a good thing going. You would’ve been running the region by now.”

  Levin nodded. “It’s my loss, Eli. I readily admit that. However, I’m hoping that once we’re done here, we can still part ways in a congenial manner.”

  “I wouldn’t want it any other way, my friend.” Foster laid his ham-hand on Silas’ shoulder. “Your debt will be repaid, and you’ll be free to live as you please. But should you not fulfill your end of the deal, you remember the price you’ll be forced to pay.”

  “I remember and that won’t happen. I should be going now and let you get some sleep.” He stepped back less than a foot, waiting for permission.

  “Goodnight, Silas. Same time next week?” Foster walked to his door and held it open. “Maybe a little earlier, if you can swing it.”

  “Yes, goodnight, Eli.” Silas stood in the hall again, his back to the door as it closed. A sigh of relief escaped him and he started down the long corridor. He pondered if there was a way to finish this thing with Eli sooner rather than later. The longer he dragged it out, the more things could go wrong. And pissing off Eli Foster was not in his best interest.

  As he reached his car and turned the engine, Silas headed back onto the highway and prepared himself for the three-hour drive back to Owensville. It would be 3am before his return. And then he would have to do it all again next week, assuming things went to plan and the game continued to prove beneficial. It remained to be seen if he could pull off what he had the other night. Recruiting others was key and they would have to be gullible enough to take the bait.

  His primary concern, however, was the local cops. More specifically, the one everyone said had an unusual gift. He didn’t buy into mumbo jumbo, but folks around Owensville seemed pretty adamant about it. There was only one way to be sure and that was to cozy up to the cop’s boyfriend, a man he had already understood would play the game if needed. Perhaps he would be needed again.

  The blackness was disorienting. Alex Laughlin wouldn’t be able to see his hands in front of his face were they not bound behind his back. Sweat poured down his cheeks and neck and soaked his long-sleeved dress shirt. His bladder was so full, it brought pain every time he took a breath. But the idea of pissing his pants would be a sign of weakness and they might take advantage of that. Nevertheless, nature was calling—screaming—at him and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

  The men hadn’t shown their faces in what he thought was at least a few hours. His lids were heavy, though his heart pumped adrenaline to the point of trembling. No reason for his capture had yet been revealed, but he assumed this had to do with the game. He’d done everything he was supposed to do, so why was he taken? What could possibly come from this? He had no money. There would be no ransom paid.

  Someone had messed with his 4Runner. The damn thing sputtered and just died and yet, he found himself less than two miles from his house with a disabled car. He had pulled over to the shoulder when he noticed the headlights behind him. A feeling of relief surged, until two men approached from either side. One thumped his knuckle on his win
dow.

  It all had happened so fast. He was yanked from the driver’s seat, his phone dropped to the ground and then—black. He awoke briefly and found himself in some warehouse and based on the light outside, it appeared to be mid-morning. Then he was given something. Something in his arm. That was the end of that.

  When he awoke this time, he had a splitting headache, a cotton-mouth, and he quickly figured out that he was bound to a chair that was chained to the floor of this building. Was it the same place? There was no way to tell. But one thing was certain, he was alone.

  15

  One of the lesser known talents of Lowell Abrams was that he also served as the department’s sketch artist. So when he sat down with Jacob this morning, he appeared to put aside his wise-ass exterior and coaxed a detailed description of the men who had approached Alex and Jacob two nights earlier.

  “This look like them?” Abrams turned the sketch pad to Jacob.

  “Yep. That’s them, all right.”

  Abrams looked at Riley. “Let’s pair this up with what Pruitt has on his phone and run this through the system, see if we can find a match.” He handed her the sketches.

  “This is good work, Abrams, thanks.” She turned to Jacob. “Looks like you can head in to work now.”

  “You don’t need me for anything else?”

  “No. This is a great start. I’ll see you tonight.” Riley returned to her desk.

  “Okay. What am I supposed to tell everyone at the office?” Jacob asked.

  “Nothing. Right now, we don’t know anything,” she began. “Your boss, your co-workers, you can’t discuss this with anyone.”

  “Laughlin hasn’t been missing long enough yet,” Ethan began. “Technically, we’re jumping the gun a little, so we’ll need to keep that in-house for now.”

  “Got it.” Jacob reached for his keys. “I hope that helps. I want Alex to come home safely.”

  “We all do.” Riley opened the door for him. “I’ll talk to you later.” She waited for him to leave before returning to the bullpen where Abrams and Ethan remained at their desks. “Well? What do you guys think?”

  “I think we have a couple of different situations brewing here,” Ethan began. “Most importantly, Alex Laughlin is missing under suspicious circumstances. On that, we can all agree. Secondly, we’ve got a couple of men who were involved in an illegal poker game who were the last to see Laughlin.”

  “What’s your point, dude, besides stating the obvious?” Abrams asked.

  “My point is, I think it’s time we get Silas Levin in here. We all know he was the one to set up this game or games. It’s his bar, for Pete’s sake. He could be the one responsible for Laughlin. At the very least, he’s a conspirator.”

  Captain Ward appeared from the corridor with a coffee in hand. “I’m not so sure that’s the best course of action, Pruitt. I admire your fervor, however, if we haul in Silas Levin, he won’t hang around long after that. That said, I think there could be another approach to this scenario.”

  “What you got up your sleeve, Cap?” Abrams asked.

  He peered at Riley, and based on her expression, she seemed to grasp the concept of his plan before he said one word. “We’re going to need Jacob for this, you understand that, right?”

  “I do,” Riley said.

  “What are you talking about?” Ethan asked.

  “Jacob’s going to have to go back and keep playing this game. It’s the only way to find out what Levin is running and if he was involved in Laughlin’s disappearance. Him or his buddies.”

  “You want Riley’s boyfriend to go undercover? Is that what I’m hearing, Captain?” Abrams asked. “Because last I checked, he wasn’t a cop.”

  “You’re hearing correctly, son. I think it’s the best way to get information without running off the only one who can help us find Alex Laughlin.”

  “I agree,” Riley added. “Silas appears to already have a level of trust in Jacob. He’ll need to exploit that to get the information.”

  Ethan stood from his desk. “Hang on here. Far be it from me to agree with Abrams, but he’s right about Jacob not being a cop. And you’re going to have him take part in an undercover operation to take down an illegal gambling ring or whatever this is. You’re putting his life in danger, Riley. How can you, of all people, be okay with that?”

  “Because we aren’t going to leave him hanging in the wind. You managed to keep out of sight when you were there the last time. I have every confidence you can do that again. And…” she peered at Ward again. “I assume we’ll want him to wear a wire?”

  “I would say that’s a correct assumption. It’s the only way to figure out what and who we’re dealing with.”

  Abrams shook his head. “Being on the same page as Slim over there is bad enough,” he nodded to Ethan. “But getting your boyfriend to wear a wire when we have no idea who these people are is putting him in one hell of a tight spot. Even the most trained officer is walking a thin line trying to pull off something like that.”

  “Look, Silas Levin knows every one of us,” Riley said. “We’ve all been in contact with him. Jacob has too, but on a different level. He’s the only one who can pull this off. How much time do you think we have before Laughlin turns up dead, if he isn’t already? We can’t wait.”

  “She’s right, fellas,” Ward added. “Let’s see if we can get some background on these guys Abrams sketched out as well as any and all information on Silas Levin. The more information we have, the better we can prepare Jacob.” Ward returned to his office.

  Ethan eyed Riley. “I can’t believe you’re okay with this. I would’ve thought you of all people would want Jacob to stay clear of any more trouble. After what we all went through…”

  “I know what we went through. I was there.” She glanced at Abrams. “We all were. But this is different. We’re talking about a rigged poker game here. Not a cartel drug bust.”

  “Uh, and a kidnapping or murder,” Abrams interjected. “Don’t forget that. I’m just saying, Pruitt’s got a point. Captain’s got a point and so do you. None of this is good news, Thompson. But now we’re stuck with it. So what are you gonna do?”

  “I think you and Decker should go to County and have another chat with Sims. Now that he’s been behind bars for a while, he might be more willing to talk, especially if it might lead to a plea deal. I’m starting to believe he was in on this game too. We know the murder of his wife was about money, money he lost somehow.” She peered at her colleagues. “Come on, guys. I can’t be the only one to see the connection here.”

  “No. I suppose you could be right about that,” Ethan said. “Putting Decker and you, Abrams, on this is a good call.”

  “Fine by me. I’ll bet he hasn’t gone to sleep yet, so I’ll get his ass down here.” He picked up his phone and made the call.

  Riley perched on the edge of Ethan’s desk. “I think Laughlin is alive.”

  “Okay. Any particular reason why you think that is?”

  “Because I can’t see anything else. When we were checking out his SUV, his phone and keys. I didn’t get anything.”

  “I hope to God he’s alive, but if he is, how the hell are we going to find him?” Ethan leaned in and lowered his tone. “It’s all well and good for Jacob to keep up appearances with Levin, but how much time do you think this is going to take? And what if it comes down to Levin threatening Jacob to do his bidding in exchange for keeping Laughlin alive?”

  “You’re assuming Levin is behind the kidnapping,” she said.

  “Or murder. But yeah, I guess that’s what I’m saying. I think we’ll find out these men were working for him too.”

  “No. That doesn’t make sense. That would mean half the table was being forced to lose money. I don’t buy it. This is a side deal with Levin. And I can’t be sure who has Laughlin, but if Levin doesn’t, I’m betting he knows who does.”

  Eli Foster shoveled an enormous bite of scrambled egg and toast into his mouth before reaching fo
r a nearby mug of coffee and guzzling a healthy amount. A piece of egg dangled from his lower lip while he finished swallowing down the food. A moment later, he gently dabbed away the stray morsel with a white linen napkin that had rested neatly in his lap.

  “I want you to go see what Silas is running in that backwater town. Whatever it is, he’s making a killing and paying off his debt too quickly. I need to keep him under my thumb a while longer so that he learns his lesson. We’re going to need to put some obstacles in his way.”

  “How should I do that, sir?” A wiry man with dark thinning hair and smooth skin sat across from him with only a cup of coffee in his hand.

  Foster held the napkin to his face and blew his nose into it. “Get in on whatever he’s doing. Buddy up to anyone else you think can get you closer to him. If he gets out of this deal unscathed, others are going to see that. We can’t afford for that to happen.”

  “Okay, Boss. I’ll go down there today.” He pushed up from the breakfast table.

  “Oh, and one more thing, Gage, don’t fuck up whatever he’s working on. Your only job is to keep me abreast of his operation. Nothing more.”

  “Sure thing, Boss.”

  A loud creak sounded when the metal door was pushed open to the room where Alex was being held captive. He knew it was morning because the sun was now shining through the small window near the ceiling. As daylight flooded the area, he realized he was in a commercial space of some kind. Perhaps an office that wasn’t finished on the interior yet? It was difficult to say. There weren’t many places in Owensville that were currently under construction and he supposed he wasn’t in Owensville anymore.

  “Good morning.” An athletic man in dark jeans and a grey t-shirt entered.

  He looked to be in his forties, early forties, most likely, but Alex didn’t recognize him. “Is it morning? Hard for me to say.”

 

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