Deadly Odds

by Adrienne Giordano

  Not as familiar with the hotel staff, Ross scanned the two women and man working the desk. One of the women glanced up from her computer and immediately straightened. “Hello, Mr. Cooper.”

  He nodded, gave her the easy smile that had gotten him three promotions in as many years and checked her nametag. “Hello, Millie. Is Denise around?”

  Millie shifted to the woman two terminals down. “Yes. That’s Denise.”

  “Terrific. Thank you.”

  Don angled around Ross, who in two steps had passed him. The old man better not go rogue after he’d agreed to let Ross handle it. “I’ve got this,” Ross muttered.

  “I know. Don’t screw it up.”

  On their approach, Denise’s warm, lightning quick smile showed no sign of impending trouble. If she knew she was busted for giving out that key, she was one hell of an actress.

  “Hello, Mr. Cooper. Mr. Sickler. May I help you with something?”

  Ross kept his features neutral. “Hi, Denise. At 11:32 you made a duplicate key for suite 1207.”

  She nodded. “Yes, sir. Ms. Daniels’ husband lost his key.”

  Ross gawked. “Her husband?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ignoring Ross’s edict to let him handle this, Don rolled one hand. “What husband? She’s not married.”

  Denise’s welcoming smile dropped like a brick in a free fall. Her gaze darted from Ross to Don and back. “I’m sorry?”

  “She’s not married,” Don repeated.

  “I don’t understand. He said—”

  “Did you check his ID?”

  Denise cupped one hand over her forehead and her skin flushed.

  Dammit. She hadn’t ID’d him. Ross locked his jaw. If there’d been one thing they pounded, literally drilled into employees’ heads, it was that no one gets access to guest rooms without permission from the guest and ID.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “He told us Ms. Daniels had his wallet. But we called her to verify that. He gave us her cell number since there wasn’t one on file. She confirmed she had his wallet and that we should let him in.”

  What the hell? Ross rubbed one hand across his cheek. “Okay, Denise. Let’s take a second here. Are you sure we’re talking about the same room? Could there be another room you rekeyed and you’re mixing them up?”

  “No, sir. He came to the desk right after I started my shift.” She tapped at the computer keyboard. “Yes. Here it is. I rekeyed it at 11:32. Daniels. Joe Daniels. I noted it right here.”

  Call or not, the woman shouldn’t have given the key out without an ID. “And Ms. Daniels said you could give her husband a key?”

  “According to the notes in the folio. It says Ms. Daniels called the desk and said it was okay to give her husband, Joe, a key.” She gestured to the other female clerk. “Millie spoke with her.”

  “I did,” Millie said. “I noted it in the system.”

  Denise held out her hands. “When he didn’t have ID we called her to check.”

  “And this Joe Daniels gave you her number?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened? Is something wrong?”

  Again, Ross looked at Don. Something was definitely wrong.

  Don punched at the screen of his phone. “I’m on it. Let’s see who this guy is.”

  “Ladies,” Ross said, “we can’t give you more information. Not yet. Going forward, no one gets a key without ID. If the person gets belligerent, feel free to kick it up to your manager. Or to me and I’ll take care of it. Now, we need to rekey Ms. Daniels’ room. Immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Don waggled his phone. “I got video.”

  He zoomed in on the screen where a guy, roughly thirty, wearing slacks and a sport coat stood at the desk. Blond hair. Wide build.

  And definitely not the hoodie-wearing guy who’d entered Kate’s room.

  Don paused the video and showed it to Denise. “This him?”

  “Yes. That’s him.”

  “Okay,” Ross said. “Now we figure out where he went.”

  A minute later, Denise handed him two new keys. “Thank you. We’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

  Ross and Don angled around the thinning crowd at poker and made their way through the casino to the elevator banks. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on here.”

  “Other than Kate doesn’t have a husband?”

  “How do you know?”

  “What?”

  “That there’s no husband. Did you check that?”

  “Damn straight, I did. You think I’m going to give her access to my system without checking her out. I don’t give a shit if Samuels hired her. It’s my ass on the line. She’s not married. Never has been. Guess you never bothered to ask when you were trying to get up her skirt.”

  The elevator opened and Ross stepped on, punched the button for Kate’s floor. “Screw off.”

  The doors slid closed, leaving Don and Ross alone in the car. Ross slouched back against the wall and Don faced him, got right up in his grill. “Get your head together. What we have is an unknown female pretending to be Kate instructing our staff to give her husband a room key. Enter Kate’s imaginary husband who gives our employee fake Kate’s phone number. If this guy’s a pro, it’s a no-brainer.”

  Ross knew this. Professional thieves often targeted hotels, pulling similar scams to access wealthy guest’s rooms. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the desk clerks did nothing but try to accommodate a guest in distress, but the hotel wound up losing its ass in a lawsuit.

  In this case, not only had the scam worked, he and Don had failed to protect their guest. Even if that guest was on their payroll, they still had to provide for her safety.

  In short, they’d failed.

  Miserably.

  Work the problem. He jerked his head. “Let’s talk to Kate and figure out why someone followed her here and pretended to be her husband to get access to her room.”

  Don’s cell rang and he ripped it from his belt. “I can’t get five minutes tonight.” He stabbed at the screen and brought the phone to his ear. “What?…When?…I’ll be up.” He ended the call.

  “What is it?”

  “Suspicious activity, table 10. They need my eyes.”

  The elevator eased to a stop and the doors slid open for Ross. “Go. I’ll talk to Kate and call you. Send me that video and I’ll show it to her. Have someone track this guy. Every place he went after he left the desk.”

  God knew, with the number of cameras they had, they could backtrack and trail a person through the entire building.

  With any luck, they might find this guy yet tonight.

  * * *

  Three quick knocks landed on her door and Kate checked the peephole.

  Ross.

  Hopefully with information on who the guy was who’d let himself into her room.

  She opened the door and Ross stormed by her, his demeanor tense. Stiff. Whatever had gone on downstairs didn’t make him happy. He tossed two key cards on the desk. “I had the room rekeyed. We could move you if you’re not comfortable.”

  Add the formal tone to his voice and—yep—she had an unhappy fellow. “No. As long as I have new keys, it’s fine. I always keep the safety on anyway. If this creep wants to find me again, he will. What happened with the desk clerk?”

  Something sparked in his eyes and he hesitated a moment, obviously choosing his words. “A man claiming to be your husband called the desk.”

  Huh. That was a new one. “My husband?”

  “Yes. And, just so you know, we’ve confirmed you don’t have a husband. Apparently my chief of security checked that when you were hired.”

  “Great. Good to know I’m not hitched.”

  A half smile littered his face. Clearly, he wasn’t in the mood for sarcasm. Well, too bad. She’d had a tough night. “Do we know who this person is?”

  “Not yet.” He pulled his phone, tapped on it and flipped it so Kate could see the screen. “Rec
ognize him?”

  She took the phone from him, watched a man wearing a sport coat walk up to the registration desk.

  “This is my supposed husband?”

  “Yep.”

  She rewound and watched again. “I don’t recognize him. He’s not the one who left the note.”

  “The build is wrong.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We’re on it. Don has surveillance tracing his route.”

  “No one would be stupid enough to stay in the hotel after something like this. If nothing else, we can see where he handed off my room key to our hoodie friend.”

  Ross slid out of his jacket and tossed it over the back of the desk chair before dropping onto the sofa. He rested his head back and closed his eyes. If his slumped shoulders—completely unnatural for Ross, Mr. Always Pristine—were any indication, he needed about a month’s worth of sleep.

  She sat next to him, curling her legs under her. A few strands of his hair fell over his forehead and she made a move to brush them back, but caught herself. Why, why, why did she always want to put her hands on him? She dropped her hand, let it rest in her lap. “You look beat. You should sleep.”

  He opened his eyes and angled in her direction. “I know. I’d like to figure out who this guy is first. Has anyone been hassling you? Paying extra attention? Could be someone who spotted you at one of the tables downstairs.” He snapped his fingers. “What about the dumbass from blackjack that was bugging you? The one from yesterday when we met.”

  “The beer gut? Could be, but I doubt it. I haven’t seen him since and he was bigger than either of the men in the videos.”

  “How about that crew from the lounge? The ones making the lewd comments.”

  She thought back, tried to picture the group of men sitting across from her. Could be. But, truth be told, she wasn’t sure.

  She scrunched her nose. “Not sure. But, I’m tired. We’re both tired. Can we get some sleep and talk about this in the morning?”

  “You shouldn’t be alone. I’ll put someone at your door.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “After I put someone at your door, yes, you will. And what about people outside of Fortuna? Anyone? Maybe a boyfriend you had a fight with or something.”

  Kate sighed. “You don’t give up. No, Ross. The only boyfriend I’ve had recently was one I’d been with for three years. We broke up, but it was amicable.”

  He shrugged. “People do weird things when relationships end.”

  “Not him. First of all, John is a damned fine police officer. Second, it’s not his style. Third, we split months ago and countless times before that. We loved each other. Very much. He wouldn’t hurt me. And he’s never done anything—even remotely—like this. But, if you want to go there, what about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes, mister serial dater. We’ve been seen together over the last two days. Maybe a former girlfriend got jealous and she’s trying to scare me off.”

  His face went slack, the mental acceptance that his lifestyle could have impacted the situation.

  Lightly, she smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “Relax. I just threw that out there to prove a point.”

  “It’s valid though. Jesus, I’m a pig.”

  “You’re not a pig. You’re a single man in Vegas.”

  He smiled, clearly happy with that response. “I could love you,” he said.

  “Of course you could.”

  “I’m serious. You get me. I don’t usually have that.”

  “Comfort is one thing. Relationships are another. I’m not ready for you. And, as much as you want to think you’re ready for me, you’re not. You don’t know anything about me or what I expect from the men in my life.”

  He locked his gaze on hers for a second then let it drift down. To her lips and—oh, no—that whump, whump in her chest kicked up.

  He dipped his head lower. “So tell me.”

  Oh, she’d tell him. She’d tell him and it would scare the hell out of him and they’d both come to their senses and quit this flirtation they had going. She set one hand on his chest. Gave him a light shove to back him up and break that wicked hot energy spewing between them. “Fine. Brace yourself.”

  He laughed.

  “Monogamy,” she said. “I don’t sleep with men unless we’re exclusive. Call me old-fashioned but I don’t want to think about what my man is doing when not with me. I need that.”

  “Kate—”

  “Before you assure me how capable you are I don’t need you to. I know enough about you to know you could set your mind to anything. You don’t become gaming’s poster boy without determination.”

  “Where’s the but?”

  Smart boy. She wagged a finger. “I don’t want you to set your mind to it. I want you to do it because it comes naturally. Because I’m enough for you.” She propped her elbow on the back of the sofa, rested her hand over his shoulder and patted. “We’re way ahead of ourselves with this. Let’s focus on figuring out who came into my room tonight and keeping him from doing it again.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Ross stared at his morning report while his head nearly exploded. Fifteen percent. How the hell did this happen?

  “Jesus Christ!” came Don’s loud shout from the outer hallway.

  “He’s in his office,” Marcia said, her voice calm as could be.

  She’d gotten used to Don’s yelling.

  Don swung around the corner, his suit jacket flying open, belly protruding, face turning weird shades of purple. Ross hoped the guy didn’t have a heart attack on his floor.

  He waved a report. “Kid, did you see this?”

  “Just saw it. Mini-bac down fifteen percent.”

  “Mini-bac again!”

  “Marcia?” Ross called. “Would you find Kate for me please?”

  “On it.”

  Ross motioned Don to a chair. “Sit.”

  “I can’t sit.”

  Instead, he paced the room, flapping his arms. Ross walked to his fridge, grabbed a water and handed it to his counterpart. “Old man, you need to sit, take a slug of this water and relax before you throw a coronary. Die on me and I’ll be pissed.”

  Don accepted the water, ripped the cap off, drank half and waved the bottle. “There. Happy? Now I’ll have to piss like a racehorse. My goddamn prostate is going bad too.”

  “You’re a mess.” He set his hand on Don’s shoulder and shoved him to a chair. “Settle down. We’ll get Kate in here and have her take a look at the video from last night. As soon as we’re done you need to make a doctor’s appointment. I’m not kidding. Your blood pressure just blew the roof off the place.”

  “I’m here,” Kate said, swinging into the office.

  She wore a simple navy dress that fit every curve and Ross’s mind traveled to what might be underneath.

  He cleared his throat, got his head out of his ass. “Morning.”

  She pointed at Don. “And for what it’s worth, coming from someone you barely know, he’s right. You should make that appointment.” She reached the desk, but didn’t sit. “What’s up?”

  “Mini-bac,” Don hollered. “Down fifteen percent. Swear to God, when I find this guy I’m taking his entire arm off. And hey,” he maneuvered sideways and looked up at Kate, “we trailed the guy who scammed your key from our front desk. He got into the elevator with the other asshole—the one in that hooded sweatshirt?—and slipped him the key. Then he left the hotel. By cab. SOB is smart. Not even a plate we can run.”

  “But,” Kate said, “we can call the cab company. See where they took him.”

  “Did that. They drove him into town, dropped him off and the last the cabbie saw, he was walking down the street. He’s in the wind.”

  “Smart,” Kate said. “He probably left his car in town, waited for the cab to leave and drove off. What about Mr. Hoodie?”

  “Same deal. Left in a cab. Both gone.”

  Kate
pulled a face. “Thank you for trying. Let’s hope for some prints from the room. Let me get into this mini-bac thing from last night.”

  Ross sat behind his desk, drummed his fingers for a second. “We’ll need you to take a look at the video again. See if you can find anything. Obviously, we didn’t catch it.”

  “And I’d like to speak with the dealers. See if they saw anything.”

  Ross’s intercom beeped. “Ross, I have Samuels for you. Be warned, he doesn’t sound happy.”

  That didn’t take long. The report hadn’t been out ten minutes and already Samuels was on them. “Put him through.”

  “Ah, shit,” Don spat.

  Ross glanced at Don and Kate. “Buckle up, kids.” He hit the speaker button. “Morning, Bob. I have Kate and Don in here. We just saw the numbers.”

  Better to beat the boss to the punch. Do an end run and hope like hell for the best.

  “Fifteen percent!” Samuels thundered.

  Don waved both arms at the phone. “Bob, calm down. We’re on it. Give us thirty minutes and we’ll report back.”

  “Fuck thirty minutes. You got a so-called security expert there and I spent a fortune hiring the best surveillance team in Vegas. Get me answers.”

  Ross winced. Bob could be a hothead, but he typically didn’t drop f-bombs in front of women. Particularly ones who worked for him. “Kate was just leaving my office to start on it.”

  “Mr. Samuels,” Kate said, “I’ll speak with the dealers and review the video. If mini-bac was hit last night, I’ll figure out who did it and how.”

  “You’d better. If we’ve got a cheat, I want you there 24/7 before we lose our asses. Ross’ll get you a room and I’ll pay you whatever necessary, but I want you accessible until we rectify this.”

  24/7? How the hell was that gonna work?

  Kate stood, mouth hanging open. Welcome to the wacky world of Bob Samuels. Ross took pity on her.

  “Bob, Kate was here all night. She came back up from Vegas after I called her about someone we were watching.”

  “Good. Then she won’t mind doing it again.”

  Don and Ross both glanced at her. The decision would be hers, but she was sharp enough to know if she wanted a career in Vegas—in all of gaming, really, because Samuels had a far reach—she’d better agree.