"It's holding its own, but that's not the issue." Ellen leaned forward and looked around the room first, to make sure that no one was listening. "Samantha had a little bit of a gambling problem. She'd lost quite a lot of money recently. She even asked to borrow money from me."
"Really? What did she need the money for? To gamble?”
"She said it was to pay back the people she owed money to. They let her run up an account and she went into the red."
That was interesting.
"Where did she gamble?" Jane assumed she was talking about Foxwoods or Mohegan Sun, the two closest casinos, both of which were several hours away, in Connecticut.
"No, she didn't bother with those places anymore. She went to the underground clubs in Mumford."
"She did?" Jane was surprised and intrigued by that. She'd heard rumors of these underground casinos but wasn't sure they really existed. Supposedly, they were pop-up gambling operations. Each weekend, they were in a different location and only those on their special VIP list were notified with the current addresses.
"Yes, she started going a few months ago. Someone invited her and she won a little bit of money, and then she was hooked. She started going almost every weekend, except that after that first weekend or two she hardly ever won."
"Where were these pop-up places?”
"She said it varied. Sometimes a private hall, other times a business or someone’s home."
"That sounds risky,” Jane said. It was clever too, though, and she could understand the need to rotate the location.
"I thought so, too, but she said it was all very organized and super-secret. They are very careful who they allow in."
"Did she get into trouble with these people?" Jane asked.
Ellen bit her lower lip and then said, "She said that she owed a lot of money and they'd been calling and harassing her. She wasn't allowed to come to the clubs anymore. They were showing up at her house at all hours, demanding their money."
Jane didn't like the sound of that. "That must have been very stressful for her."
"She said it was terrifying, actually,” Ellen said with a shudder. She held on to her coffee cup with both hands, as if she needed its warmth.
“When did she tell you this?”
“She first mentioned it a little over a month ago, and then again just last week. Some guy had stopped by her house again and she was a bit shaken up.”
“Did she ever mention any of their names?”
“Only their first names. The main guy that was harassing her had an unusual name. At first, I thought she said Lenny, but it was actually Lanny. I don’t know what that’s short for though.”
“Lanny. Okay, that’s a start anyway. If you think of anything else, please let me know.”
“I will.” As Ellen stood up, her eyes watered. “I really miss her. I hope they catch whoever did this.”
“So do I.”
19
"We could go check out that Mumford casino if you want," Gramps suggested. They were sitting on Jane's back patio, enjoying bowls of the banana 'ice-cream' that Jane often made for them. It was simply frozen bananas, a splash of vanilla and a bit of raspberry jam, whizzed up in a food processor until it turned into a gelato-like confection that was surprisingly creamy and healthier than ice-cream—though Gramps always insisted on having hot fudge, whipped cream and sprinkles on his.
"I'd love to, but how do you supposed we do that? You have to know someone to get in." Jane hadn't gambled in a long time. She did enjoy a game of blackjack every now and again, though. Because of her aptitude with math and computers, she'd learned years ago that it was surprisingly easy to count cards, and it often gave her an edge.
"Maybe I know someone," Gramps said mysteriously.
"You do? Who?" Gramps never failed to surprise her.
"Carl likes to go every now and again. He's a monster at blackjack," he said proudly.
"Carl is? I never would have guessed. And I didn't know you'd ever been."
"It's something to do. I don't tell you everything, you know.” Gramps winked at her. “I can get a little wild and crazy sometimes.” He frowned then and asked, “Do we have any more whipped cream? It doesn't look like I took enough."
Jane smiled. "I'll get it for you."
She went into the kitchen, and then returned with the can of whipped cream and gave a good squirt to the rest of Gramps' dessert.
"That's better, thanks. You make good ice-cream, Janie."
"So, you think Carl can get us in?"
"He will if I ask him to. He'll have to come with us, though."
"That's fine. Do they do this every weekend?" she asked.
"Like clockwork. It's all done by email now. Goes out Friday morning."
"Email? Really? That doesn't seem very safe." Jane set her empty dish on the patio table, wishing she'd made a bigger batch.
"Oh, they're very careful. It's all in code. Like a party invitation. It mentions the street names as if they are people's names, so for that Moose Lodge on Mulberry Street. It might say something like, ‘The Mulberry family invites you to join them at gathering on Friday.’"
"That is clever," Jane agreed. Then she couldn’t help but ask, “Do you feel guilty at all going there? I mean, it is against the law.”
Gramps shook his head. “It’s harmless. Besides, I’m retired. Don’t have to answer to anyone anymore.”
“That’s true,” she agreed.
"I'll talk to Carl tomorrow at coffee. We'll make a plan for Friday."
* * *
Friday night around six, Gramps and Carl picked Jane up and they headed off to Mumford. It felt a bit surreal to Jane to be sitting in the backseat of Carl's mint green Cadillac as they drove to an illicit gambling hall. Both Gramps and Carl were enthusiastic about the outing. Carl was wearing a brightly colored Hawaiian print shirt that he said was his lucky charm.
"I wear this every time I go. Hasn't failed me yet.”
Gramps looked equally festive in his best, baby-blue button-down golf shirt that flattered his abundance of snow white hair. Jane hadn't been at all sure how to dress, and had finally settled on a simple black skirt and scoop-necked black and white sleeveless top. Fairly conservative, except for her fun, candy-apple red, three-inch pumps. Gramps had shaken his head when he saw them.
"I don't know how you can even walk in those things?"
"Very carefully!" she had said and laughed. Jane loved a pretty pair of shoes and didn't get the opportunity to wear them much anymore. Around the shop, she mostly wore comfortable sneakers, so her feet wouldn't ache too much from standing on them all day. At night, she usually walked around barefoot. So, it was only on the rare occasion that she went out at night, that she got a chance to wear her favorite shoes.
"Where is it being held tonight?" Jane asked as they crossed the town line into Mumford. Mumford was twice the size of Waverly and had its fair share of questionable areas. Cute and quaint it was not.
"It's the Stephens’ family party tonight," Carl said with a chuckle. "A karate studio on Stephens Street. There's a huge basement. I've been there before."
"A karate studio. Who would guess it?" Jane said.
"Exactly," Gramps agreed. "This is going to be fun, Janie. I brought plenty of dollar bills."
When they pulled into the parking lot at the Keane Karate building, there were only a few spots left, and the parking lot was huge. There were no other businesses around, so Jane guessed most of the cars must be here for the same reason they were.
Carl parked and then led the way. They followed him to the front door where a giant, muscular man with a crew-cut and angry, dark tattoos on both arms politely asked their names. Carl told him and then the bouncer checked his list. Once he was satisfied that they were on it, he opened the door and welcomed them in.
"I think you've been here before," he said to Carl. "Everyone is downstairs. Enjoy yourself, and good luck."
20
Jane walked carefully down the steep st
eps to the basement. The stairs were covered in an old, frayed green carpet that kept catching on the bottom of Jane's heels. She slowed a little and held tight to the railing as she followed Gramps and Carl. Once they reached the basement, it took her eyes a moment to adjust. It was dark down there. There were lights everywhere, but they were dim and it was smoky. Smoking wasn't allowed in any public buildings any longer, but Jane supposed that didn't apply to illegal clubs, and smoking did sort of fit the overall ambiance.
She was surprised at the size of the crowd. It was like a large party, probably around a hundred and fifty or so people. At least a half-dozen blackjack tables were set up in the middle of the room, and along the sides, an equal number of poker tables. One large roulette wheel was in the corner and on the opposite end of the room, two different groups were playing craps. They eyed the blackjack tables and Carl explained how it worked.
"Early in the night, there's no minimum amount you have to bet. They want everyone in and hooked as soon as they get here. Then once everyone has had a drink or two, they raise the stakes. Every hour, they increase the minimum bet. That's why we like to come early."
Gramps appeared to be half-listening. He was busy scouting the room to find a table with three empty seats. "Over here!"
He led them to a table where three college-aged young men had just left to go sit at the bar. There was a makeshift bar that spanned the length of the longest wall. Jane and Carl sat on either side of Gramps and placed their bets for the next round. They all put two dollars down. While the dealer dealt the hand, Jane looked around the room, trying to get a sense of who was running things. It was hard to tell at first, but there were two men standing at the end of the bar who seemed to be keeping an eye on everything, and neither of them was drinking.
Jane deliberately didn't pay attention to how the cards were dealt on this round. She wanted to appear somewhat clueless about the game, so that when she started to win it could seem like beginner's luck. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. Even if she had been counting cards, it probably wouldn't have helped in the first round anyway as her cards were terrible. She asked for another card when it was her turn and then was instantly out when her total went over twenty-one. Both Gramps and Carl won their hands.
Jane paid closer attention on the next few hands and deliberately lost one hand and won the next. Gramps and Carl won both hands, let their winnings ride and then lost it all on the last hand.
"Easy come, easy go," Carl said.
Gramps made a face. "So much more fun when we win, though." He glanced at Janie's stack of winning chips and smiled. "Like riding a bike for you, huh?"
Jane kicked him lightly under the table, a warning to keep his voice down.
"Beginner's luck!" she said brightly as the dealer gathered all the cards and started shuffling.
They played at that table for another hour. Every so often a pretty—usually blond—cocktail waitress came by to see if they would like a drink. Carl and Gramps never had more than one. Jane nursed the glass of white wine, as she needed to have her wits about her and when the time was right, she intended to order another drink at the bar.
By the end of the hour, both Carl and Gramps were very happy to be ahead about fifty dollars each. Jane had continued to bid carefully, yet in a way that made it look like she didn't really know what she was doing, deliberately losing several rounds and then doubling down randomly and winning. She had over five hundred dollars in front of her when she decided to take a break and head to the bar. She pushed her stack of chips toward Gramps and gave up her seat.
"Can you keep an eye on this for me? I'm going to take a break and head to the bar for a minute. Would either of you like anything?" she offered. They both declined and turned their attention back to the next round. The two men that she had spotted earlier were still standing by the bar, chatting and glancing around the room intently. She'd noticed that they'd glanced her way more than once. She smiled at them as she found a seat at the bar, a few feet away from where they stood. The bartender made his way over to her and she ordered another glass of wine, a surprisingly decent chardonnay.
She'd hoped to just sit close enough to them that she might overhear something useful. But within minutes of her drink arriving, one of the men slid into the seat next to her and struck up a conversation.
"I don't think I've seen you here before. Are you having a good time?" His words were polite, charming even, but as he spoke, he was also keeping an eye on the rest of the room. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't place where she might have seen him before. He was tall, with longish, dark brown hair that he wore tucked behind his ears, giving him a shaggy, hip look. Wire-rimmed glasses completed the image.
"Yes, lots of fun. I'm here with my grandfather and his friend, Carl."
"Ah, Carl. Yes, we see him every now and again." He held out his hand. "I'm Landon."
"Jane," she replied as she shook his hand.
"I couldn't help but notice you had a nice run of luck just now. Do you play blackjack much?"
"Thank you. No, I haven't played in years, but it's such a fun game." That was true. It had been several years since she'd played. She smiled sweetly and added, "I do feel really lucky."
Landon considered her comment for a moment, and then smiled and said, "Well, we'd love to see more of you. Be sure to sign the guestbook on the way out, and we'll add you to the email invite list."
"Oh, could you? That would be great. I'd love to bring a friend sometime, if that's okay?"
"We have a rule that you have to come to three parties, either alone or with another vetted member, before you can bring a guest." Landon grinned and his face took on a boyish, mischievous look. "What we're doing here isn't exactly legal. So we have to be careful. I hope you understand."
"Of course. I look forward to coming back again soon."
Just then, the other man walked over and tapped Landon on the shoulder. He leaned in and spoke softly so Jane couldn't hear what he said, but whatever it was got Landon's attention. He stood immediately, and his eyes swept the room.
"If you'll excuse me? It was very nice to meet you, Jane."
And then he was gone, off to a far corner of the room to confer with several other men, older men who looked to be in their late-fifties or even early sixties. After a heated discussion, the men and Landon disappeared upstairs. Jane took her drink back to the blackjack table and rejoined Gramps and Carl. Their piles of chips looked about the same, meaning they were winning and losing.
"As long as I don't go too deep into the red, I could play this for hours," Gramps said with a smile.
Jane slid into the last empty chair and they played for another hour, until Carl lost two hands in a row and declared that it was a good time to wrap up.
"I feel like lady luck has left the building and maybe so should we," he said.
Gramps yawned. "Okay by me."
They gathered up their winnings and cashed their chips in before they left. Gramps was down by about twenty dollars, Carl was up by thirty and Jane was still holding about five hundred dollars. She'd been careful not to win too often and was happy with her take for the night.
* * *
As they approached downtown Waverly, it was about nine-thirty.
"Anyone feel like stopping for an ice-cream? Mitchell's Dairy is open until ten." Carl said as he turned on to Main Street.
"Always room for ice-cream. Janie?" Gramps asked.
"Sure."
They joined the long line outside, and once they had their ice creams, they settled at one of the empty picnic tables to eat them.
"So, what did you think, Janie?" Gramps asked.
"It was fun, and interesting."
"Did you learn anything?"
"Not really. I only chatted with one of the organizers for a few minutes before he got called away to what looked like some kind of emergency."
"You know who that was, right?" Carl asked.
"He looked somewhat familiar.
Said his name was Landon. I didn't catch his last name. I don't think he mentioned it."
"That was Lanny. Lanny Drummond. He was in the news when his stepfather was indicted for murder."
"That was Lanny?" No wonder he looked familiar.
The sophisticated Landon was the Lanny that had been harassing Samantha.
“We need to go back next weekend.” Alex Drummond’s mobster son was one of the last people to see Samantha Sellers before she was murdered and Jane wanted another chance to talk to him.
“We can do better than that,” Carl said. “There’s a party tomorrow night. On Mulberry, this time.”
“You sure you don’t mind going again so soon? I don’t want to disrupt your Saturday night,” Jane said.
Both Gramps and Carl laughed at that.
“Don’t be silly, honey. Now we have plans!”
21
Saturdays were always crazy busy at the shop. There was a non-stop flow of customers until almost two in the afternoon. Melissa took a break then, to grab a bite to eat, while Jane poured herself an iced coffee and snuck a bite of a blueberry muffin in between customers. She had just popped the last piece in her mouth when the front door chimed and Jake walked in.
“I need another one of your muffins,” he said, smiling. “And a tall iced coffee.” Jane got his order together and while she was ringing him up, he asked, “So, how are you?”
Jane smiled as she handed him his change. “I’m good! Keeping busy.”
“Have you been up to anything I should know about?” he asked.
There was no one else in the shop now, so Jane took her time answering. “I’ve had a few interesting conversations. Ellen was in the other day and mentioned that Samantha was having some financial issues brought on by a gambling addiction. She owed a lot of money to one of those underground casinos.”
“Like the one that operates out of Mumford?” he asked
“You know about that?” Janie had wondered if the local police were aware of the illegal casinos.
Motive Page 7
