by Robin Mahle
“Highly trained?” Alex asked.
“There are four trained officers and one who is probably highly-trained. Point being, they have our backs. Nothing’s going to happen to your wife and kids. We’ll walk out of here tonight, in just a few hours, unharmed, and the cops will get the bad guys. And justice will be served to the men who took you.” He opened the door and stepped out.
Alex stepped out of his side and the two met on the sidewalk near the entrance. “If you can hear me, flash your lights.” He turned back toward the main street. A small glimmer of light sparked, then was out. “I hope that was them.”
“You and me both.” Jacob pulled open the door and walked inside. He plastered a smile on his face as he spotted the man who ran the show just ahead.
“Well, look who elected to show up.” Silas made his approach. “Decided to come back and face the music, did you, Alex? Surprised you pulled that disappearing act.”
“I just needed some time away. You know, family and marriage and all that. It can take its toll.” Alex offered his hand.
“I hear you, brother.” Silas returned the greeting. “Your buddy here, though, he was pulling for you to do the right thing. Glad you’re both here.” He turned on his heel. “Come sit at the bar. I’ll pour you a couple of cold ones before we get started tonight.”
Jacob and Alex eyed one another before following Silas back to the bar. Jacob hopped onto a bar stool. Alex sat next to him.
“How many are we expecting tonight, Chief?” Jacob asked.
Silas placed two bottles of beer in front of them. “Should be a good crowd tonight. Mostly regulars, though there may be a surprise guest or two.” He eyed Jacob sternly.
“Sounds good.” Alex chugged back his beer.
Isaac approached the men. “Evening, gentlemen. Mr. Laughlin, you know, we weren’t sure you were coming tonight. Something about leaving your family?”
Silas raised a hand. “No need to get involved in the man’s personal life. He’s here now and that’s all that matters.”
“Sure. Sorry, man, no offense.”
“None taken.” Alex stared at him while he took another swig. “Just some personal business was all it was. Glad to be here now and looking forward to having some fun.”
“Speaking of.” Silas walked around the bar. “Why don’t I show you our setup for tonight? Might be a good idea to know how things will be laid out.”
Jacob pushed off the stool. “Sure thing.” He looked at Alex. “Come on, man.” Jacob briefly eyed his shirt, where the wire was strapped beneath. Without saying as much, he wanted to do his best to describe where they would be seated and what was around so when the team pulled the trigger, they’d have some idea what they would be coming up against.
Silas turned on the light in the backroom and illuminated the storage-like space. In the center was an octagon poker table, complete with green felt and storage cubbies for each player’s chips. Soft padded folding chairs surrounded it, and by Jacob’s count, there were eight seats. Six more would be in attendance tonight and he ventured to think that two of them would be the men who had approached them the other night and who they believed abducted Alex, though he himself was unsure.
At another end of the room, a rectangular folding table was set up and covered in a linen cloth. Empty bowls and glasses sat atop it along with a few bottles of the Crooked Horse’s finest liquor.
Jacob continued to study the surroundings, cementing in his mind the exits and his and Alex’s precise locations. If it was like the last game, they’d be positioned at the northwest side of the table. Meaning they would face the exit almost head on. That could be a very good thing.
“Everything look good to you two?” Silas asked.
“Perfect,” Alex replied. “Just like before. So, can I ask, who will we be playing against tonight?” He looked at Jacob for a moment. “I want to be sure me and Jacob here are ready for whoever’s coming.”
Silas approached, walking to within a foot of him. He was only about an inch or so taller than Alex, but he loomed large in that moment. “You’re interested in names now?”
“Uh, no, not really. I was just making conversation.” Fear flashed through his eyes. “I’m just here to do like what we talked about, Silas. Nothing more.”
“Good.” He returned a slick smile and stepped back. “Then we should go back out there and have another drink. Tonight should be an interesting one.”
“Thank you, Isaac. Be on the lookout tonight.” Dennis Ackerman, the former partner turned foe to Silas Levin ended the call. “Our man says Alex is doing his duty. Playing the part and hanging in there like a champ. We made the right call with that one.”
“You’re right,” his partner said. “I think the other one would’ve been too difficult to sway. He didn’t have anything to lose. Laughlin does.”
“So the plan is,” Ackerman continued. “Let Vaughan and Meisner get in there, play the game, and see how Alex plays. They’ll know pretty damn quick if he’s going to go along with the plan or keep to Levin’s scheme.”
“And if he chooses the latter?” he asked.
“Then Laughlin won’t have a family to come home to,” Ackerman replied. “But I don’t believe it will come down to that. My main concern is what happens when Silas begins to comprehend what’s happening. When he sees Laughlin and his buddy play like they’re World Series of Poker winners.”
“We’ll go in after that, is that right?” he asked.
“That’s the plan. We’ll force him to lose his ass, then go in there and take the rest of whatever the hell he has. I spent six years in prison for that asshole. He’s going to be held to account.”
“What about the people he owes money to?”
Ackerman shook his head. “Not my problem. Isaac says it’s Eli Foster.”
“You know him?”
“You bet your ass I do. He’s a player in Chicago and Silas must’ve been pretty fucking desperate to get into bed with him. Hell, he can have the bar for all I care. I just want Levin.” Ackerman reached for his keys. “Better head down there. Don’t want to miss all the action.”
Riley returned a glance to Ward. “That was risky.”
“It was. Much too risky for my tastes. Laughlin almost ended it before it began. Sounds like he recovered, so they’re still on track.”
Ethan stood behind Decker and Abrams, who were planted in front of two workstations. One was to monitor Jacob’s wire and the other was set up for Alex’s gear.
Decker pulled down his headset. “We don’t know anything more than we did when they walked in. That could present us with a problem.”
“Only if things go south, which I do not anticipate and neither should you,” Ward replied. “Let those boys get settled in and see what they can do. We all need to have a little bit of faith, you understand? They need it from us right now.”
Ethan peered at Riley. “It’s going to plan so far.”
It was clear he was making an effort to reassure her, but she still felt at odds with Jacob’s behavior. Like maybe he might do something reckless. But it wasn’t like him to be reckless. Well, not usually. The whole thing that went down when he returned to Owensville was reckless, but he was trying to rescue his girlfriend; ex-girlfriend. This time was different. He had no cause to do anything but stick to the plan. He needed to prove nothing, if that was what his intentions were.
“Riley?” Ethan asked. “You with us?”
“I’m with you. Sorry.”
“Are you getting one of those feelings?” Ward asked.
“No. It’s nothing like that,” she said.
Both Decker and Abrams cast uncertain glances at one another as if they expected her to raise the dead and watch her head spin. It only made her feel more like an outcast.
“I just want this night to be over with. I know I was on board with this plan, but I’m concerned we’ve let it go too far.”
“Riley, we have to know who took Laughlin and this is the only w
ay to do that. Sure, we could’ve asked around, but what do you think that would’ve succeeded in doing? Silas would’ve walked away. Ackerman’s men would’ve fled, and we still don’t know for sure it was them. We need this to go down tonight or we have nothing. Less than nothing.”
“The captain’s right,” Ethan began. “Jacob’s smart. Smarter than I give him credit for. He’ll do what he needs to do.”
“Hey, look who decided to make it.”
Jacob’s voice sounded through Decker’s headphones. “He’s on.” Decker turned on the speaker.
The team hushed instantly. Riley leaned over Decker’s chair as though it would help her to see what was going on, instead of just listening.
“I hope you’re ready to lose tonight, Biggs.”
“Who was that?” Riley whispered.
Ward only shook his head and waited.
“Guess we’ll have to see about that.” Jacob unleashed a laugh that wasn’t his own.
“He’s nervous.” She shook her head. “Do you think it’s one of Ackerman’s guys?”
“I don’t know. Just sit tight. We’ll get more as he does,” Ward said.
Riley dropped to the bench along the wall of the van. She lowered her head into her hands and continued to listen so intently, she hadn’t realized Ethan was next to her rubbing her back.
“Let’s head back, gentlemen.” Silas’s voice traveled through the speaker.
“Okay, folks. Now we’re getting down to brass tacks.” Abrams pressed a few keys on the keyboard and the volume grew from his speaker. “Our boy Alex is being awfully quiet. I’d worry more about him blowing it than Jacob.”
Snacks were on the table next to the booze and a bucket of beer bottles sat at the ready. The men entered, appearing jovial and unconcerned about the outcome of the game.
Eugene Vaughan, the forty-two-year-old with a paunch and receding hairline, sat down first. His colleague, Anton Meisner, the slightly more polished thirty-four-year-old, sat next to him.
Jacob nudged Alex almost imperceptible to anyone else, but Alex seemed to take note. With a subtle nod of his head, he was pointing out the obvious. Those were the men who abducted him, or so they believed through a process of elimination.
So far, the others were unknown. Jacob hadn’t seen them before and it didn’t appear that Alex had either, which meant Silas had fresh meat. Perhaps with the loss of Sims, he had to put out feelers for more unsuspecting subjects. But what he didn’t know was that Jacob and Alex were about to run afoul with Silas.
Silas sat down. “Okay, gentlemen, buy-in is two grand.”
He’d spotted Alex and Jacob the cash, as per the agreement, so each had tossed in their chips.
Silas began dealing the cards.
Jacob watched as each player viewed their respective hands. He was looking for a tell. And while he had nowhere near the skills of Alex, he’d picked up enough to grasp the situation. As he turned his sights to his friend, Alex’s face became unreadable. No tell. Nothing that would give away his position. He was better than even Jacob believed. But the deal was, he had to win, and win it all. Denying Silas everything was the endgame here, and the night had only just begun.
Dennis Ackerman hopped out of his Cadillac Escalade and placed his hands at his waist. “So this is Levin’s new place, huh?” He surveyed the grounds. “Why the hell would he come to this shithole town?”
“Because no one knows him here, I imagine.” The man joined him and peered at the building. “Not a bad-looking place, though. Probably the nicest thing in this town.”
Ackerman nodded. “You got that right.” He patted his friend on the back. “Let’s go and have ourselves a drink.”
The two walked inside as the bar had begun to quiet down for the night. Folks still had to get up early and go to work tomorrow and it appeared as though only a few hard-core drinkers remained inside.
Ackerman revealed a broad smile at the sight of his informant behind the bar. “Mr. Bell. How the hell are you?” He extended his hand.
“Doing well, sir. And you?” Isaac replied.
“About as good as can be expected, all things considered. What do you have that’s decent around here?”
“Got a pretty good pilsner, if you’re interested. Otherwise, some top-shelf bourbon, if that’s more your style.”
“I’ll take a shot of bourbon.” Ackerman bellied up to the bar.
“And what can I get you?” he asked the man next to him.
“Same. Thanks.” He too sat perched on a stool. “Pretty damn quiet in here.”
“Yeah. It’s getting late. Only got the folks back there to contend with mostly.”
Ackerman leaned in and lowered his tone. “Anything going on with that front I should know about?”
“Nothing yet. They got started about forty-five minutes ago. Things usually start heating up after a few more drinks. Give it half an hour, tops. We should start seeing some action,” Isaac replied.
“That’s what I came for.” Ackerman rubbed his hands together before taking hold of the shot glass. “Bottoms up, boys.”
Decker pulled down his headphones once again. “Sounds like Alex is doing all right so far. Not sure about Jacob.”
“He’s not a poker player. At least, he wasn’t until recently,” Riley said. “As long as he can pretend and make sure he’s winning, then he’ll get through it.”
“How long before Levin starts to feel the squeeze?” Abrams asked. “Gotta be coming soon.”
“I’m sure it will.” Ward turned to Riley. “I’m wondering if now is the time to have you check things out?”
“You want me to go inside?” She asked.
“You’re most equipped to handle this when it comes to its ultimate conclusion,” Ward said.
“She can’t go in there alone. I’ll go with her,” Ethan said.
“No. We both show up and red flags will be sprouting up all over the place,” Riley began. “The captain’s right. I’ll go. I’m in plain clothes. I doubt it’s the same bartender, and even if it is, I can tell him I just clocked out for the night. Am I going to get kicked out for the sole reason that I’m a cop?”
“I don’t know about this, Captain.” Ethan stood as straight as he could in the van. “It’s not like you’re bullet-proof, Riley.”
Ward snapped his fingers. “Ah. That’s right. I brought a vest. Strap this on and head inside.” He handed it to Riley.
“Are you kidding? Captain, look at what I’m wearing? You don’t think that’ll show through my clothes? How would I explain that? No. I’m going in. I have my gun. I’ll be ready.”
“At least wear an earpiece.” Ethan snatched one from the table where the equipment rested. “We need to have audio or you’re going in there blind.”
“I can agree to that.” Riley placed the earpiece in her right ear and pulled her hair over it. “Okay. Catch up with you all soon.” She slid open the van door and jumped out, walking the block to the Crooked Horse on foot.
Ethan peered through the door before finally shutting it again.
Riley was feeling better already. This was a good idea. At least if she was there, she could control the outcome by whatever means necessary.
26
The lighted sign for the Crooked Horse was mounted along the front of the small building. The term “crooked horse” was a horse slanted left or right, such as people who were left or right handed. It was said that a crooked horse had trouble holding its rider, however, the sign’s imagery took another meaning. A horse holding a beer at a bar and appearing to be drunk. The inventive take on the saying drew Riley’s interest as she approached the bar on foot.
“I’m about to enter.” Riley’s earpiece was hidden beneath her long blonde locks that were stick-straight. To any passersby, it would have appeared as though she was talking to herself. Luckily, it was late and a weeknight. In Owensville, that meant people had already retreated into their homes and were tucked up in bed.
Dressed in st
reet clothes, a tank top with a light button-down shirt over top and a pair of cuffed denim pants, Riley easily blended with the rest of the patrons, of which there were few. And she caught the eye of the bartender, a woman whom she had not seen before. The few times she’d been inside the place was during the day and in uniform when a young man was serving drinks. This was an even better outcome than she had hoped.
The young bartender, slim and angry, eyed Riley as she approached the bar. “What can I get you?”
“Beer. Thanks.” Riley sat on the barstool and surveyed her environment, keeping a particular eye toward the back where the game was taking place and Jacob was doing his best to play to both sides. A dangerous undertaking for the most highly-trained of law enforcement, let alone a young architect who’d already been faced with trouble in the recent past.
“That’ll be six-fifty.”
Riley handed over a ten-dollar bill and without a word, the woman retreated to the till and pulled out her change. Upon receiving the change, Riley left a two-dollar tip. “Thanks very much.” She tossed back a swig of beer.
Riley didn’t drink because it dulled her senses and all that came with it, and right now, she needed to stay sharp. But inside a bar, she needed to drink to keep from drawing unwanted attention. She knew the others were listening to her and felt more confident as a result.
“Evening, miss.” An older gentleman who had been sitting at the other end of the bar moved next to her.
She’d seen this man in a mug shot. It was Ackerman. Riley glanced to where he moved from and noticed another, younger gentleman and figured he was his hired hand. Why the hell was Ackerman here? He’d already sent his men to participate in the game as they had before. This could be a problem when Silas realizes Jacob and Alex aren’t playing by his rules.
