by Simon Wood
“And neither do I. That’s why I need someone on my side.”
“Do you realize how hard this is going to be? It will take more than tracking them down and pointing the finger at them, then expecting the cops to swoop in to save the day.”
She was under no illusion that getting out of this wouldn’t be messy. Andrew was probably right. She stood little chance of coming away clean, but if she took down Roy that would at least be something.
“I’m assuming Roy was telling you the truth when he told you he was untouchable. If so, Infidelity Limited will be very good at setting itself up in the shadows, and there will be nothing to tie these guys to. Even if you record a phone call, you’ve got nothing to back it up, and you’re still criminally involved.”
“So what are you suggesting—give up?”
“No. What I’m saying is if you’re hoping to get yourself off the hook and put Roy on it, then you’re not going to have the luxury of playing by the law.”
“So I’ll have to break a few laws to set them up?”
“At the very least. Liv, if you want to get Roy off your back, then you’re going to have to bring down Infidelity Limited.”
“Which means?”
“Which means you’re going to have to follow their instructions and learn everything you can about their operation.”
“But they want me to kill someone.”
Andrew shrugged. “Then you need to play along and stall for time. We have to get the evidence to turn them over to the cops before they can throw you under the bus. I think our first step should be to question Clare more thoroughly.”
“‘Our’ first step? Does that mean you’ll help me?”
Andrew’s expression remained grim. “Yes. I don’t know how much I can help, but I’ll do all I can.”
“Are you sure? If we fail, you’ll be in Roy’s crosshairs too.”
“I know what I’m signing up for.”
The world had turned into a series of dead ends put up by Roy and Finz. For the first time, Olivia saw an exit. She grabbed his hands. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You don’t have a lot going for you.”
“Except for Clare.”
“Right. She’s our way in. We need to know everything she knows about these people. She’s been through this already and can warn us of what’s coming. The more we know in advance, the better we can protect ourselves. Knowing Clare, she’s going to be resistant. That might mean scaring her. Are you okay with that?”
She was. Clare had set her up. Richard would still be alive and she wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for Clare. She had no problems putting the fear of God into her sister. “We need to be careful, because Roy told me I couldn’t tell anyone about this. If he finds out that you’re involved, I have no idea what he’ll do.”
“Then we’ll be careful,” Andrew said. “Let’s go.”
They rode in Olivia’s Audi. While she drove, he scanned the road for Roy or anyone else from Infidelity Limited. No one was following them.
“The problem I have right now is my upcoming polygraph,” Olivia said.
“When is it?”
“In a few days. They haven’t set a date. There’s no way I can pass a lie-detector test with what I know.”
“All I know is that there’s only one foolproof way to pass a lie-detector test.”
“And what’s that?”
“Tell the truth.”
“Then I’m screwed.”
“No, you’re not. A poly is a crude test. It works off a yes-or-no questioning system, which limits what you can be asked.”
“Yes, but when they ask me if I killed Richard, it’s game over.”
“So you killed Richard?”
“No, someone at Infidelity Limited did, but I—”
Andrew held up his hand. “You’re overcomplicating things. Answer the question you’re asked. Did you kill Richard?”
“No.”
“Do you know who killed Richard? And I mean do you know, by name, the person who killed Richard?”
“No, I don’t.”
Olivia understood Andrew’s point. If she took the questions at face value and didn’t read more into them, she could answer any of their questions honestly. She knew that a client from Infidelity Limited had killed Richard, but she didn’t know his or her identity. Finz could only ask in generalities. Unless he was onto Infidelity Limited, those generalities would be her safe harbor.
“Did you pay to have your husband killed?” Andrew asked.
“No.”
“Now you’re getting it. You just have to believe in your answers. Remember, you didn’t kill your husband, you don’t know the identity of the perpetrator, and you didn’t pay for him to be murdered.”
It wasn’t the perfect defense, but she thought she could pull it off. In her mind, she ran through the polygraph questions she’d likely be asked. She answered them, noting any anxiety. It was there, but if she practiced and desensitized herself to their impact, she might just fool the lie detector. “Okay, I think I can do this.”
“There are supposed ways of deceiving polygraphs too. It’ll be good for us to know them for extra insurance, so I’ll research them,” Andrew said.
“Thanks. I’d be lost without your help.”
“It’s easy to help when the problem isn’t your own.”
They arrived at Clare’s trailer. Her Honda wasn’t parked out front.
“She can’t be gone,” Olivia said in disbelief. “I left her here just before I came to see you.”
They tried her door. Clare didn’t answer.
“Where is she?” Andrew asked.
“I have no idea.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sixteen. Conventional blackjack strategy dictated that Clare should stand. She didn’t care about convention. She hadn’t been counting cards, but she had paid attention, and a lot of face cards had been coming out of the dealer’s shoe over the last few hands. She liked her chances and tapped the baize for another card.
The dealer dealt a five of hearts next to her nine of diamonds and seven of clubs.
“Twenty-one. Nicely played.”
“Thanks, Chuck.”
She knew Chuck, like most of the dealers, from her numerous visits to Cache Creek Casino. Chuck had been around for years, and it was a pleasure to watch him deftly send the cards flying across the table.
She was fortunate that there were half a dozen Indian casinos within a couple of hours’ drive of the Bay Area. She liked Cache Creek the best and came often. It was only an hour away, and the cards treated her well here. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She didn’t lose as much here. The three grand she’d been into Gault for was due to a bad night at Thunder Valley.
“You rode your luck there,” the guy two seats over from her said with admiration and raised his whiskey glass. He’d just busted with a twenty-three, attempting the same move.
She smiled at her fellow gambler. “You’ll get it next time. Luck goes around the table.”
Chuck finished doling out the cards. No one else made twenty-one, except for the dealer. Luck had gone the way of the house. She got to keep her chips while the dealer relieved everyone else of theirs. At least she’d broken even on that hand. That was more than she got to do outside of the casino. Her cards in the game of life were never good enough. Out there, she always came up short.
She was doing pretty well tonight. She was only $200 down on the grand that Olivia had given her. She’d been $250 up about five hands ago. She’d get it back. She was in for a good night. She felt it.
Olivia would disagree. She would say Clare was pissing her money away. It wasn’t Olivia’s money anyway. Not once she’d handed it over to her.
Clare wondered if her sister had seen through the lies about why she owed money when Gault had come collecting. Probably. Clare hated that her life was so transparent.
Screw you, Olivia. She hated how she allowed her sister to make her feel guilty abou
t going to a casino. She was a grown woman, and she could do what she wanted.
It wasn’t like Olivia’s life was so fantastic. Richard had cheated on her—probably because she was so damn uptight. And now he was dead. Killed by Infidelity Limited. Whose fault was that, Olivia?
Guilt stabbed her between the ribs. The blame was partly hers. She’d known what Infidelity Limited was capable of.
Stop, she told herself. She’d come here to put a wall between her and her life. People always complained about the absence of windows and clocks in casinos. That was something she liked. Casinos were special places that existed outside of time and space. She always removed her watch as she entered. She didn’t need to know the time. She released a breath to calm herself and focus. Her head needed to be in the game.
She let her fifty-dollar bet ride, and the gambling gods rewarded her with a blackjack. Now that was more like it. All thoughts of Olivia and Infidelity Limited faded into the background.
The shoe signaled it was down to the dregs, and Chuck took the used cards from the discard pile and put them into the auto shuffler.
While he reloaded the shoe, Clare looked around. Cache Creek was pretty busy tonight, shoulder-to-shoulder stuff. All the minimum-bet tables were full. It was the same story at the twenty-five-dollar table she was playing at. No sign of a global recession here. But that was always the way. People might not have a pot to piss in, but they’d use what they had for a chance of winning big.
Chuck dealt out fresh cards. She did well over the next three hands, winning two. Her confidence rose, and she upped her bets to seventy-five a hand.
He dealt her a pair of aces, and she split, putting seventy-five on each. She felt her heart race at the thought of a couple of face cards coming her way. They didn’t come. She busted out on one hand and stood on seventeen on the other. Chuck dealt himself a nineteen, cleaning her out.
“That was mean, Chuck.”
“It’s the cards, Clare. Not me.”
Chuck’s cards continued to be mean for the next half an hour. She lost two hands for every one she won. Within the next hour, she was down $800 and chasing her luck instead of riding it. It was time to stop, but she just couldn’t summon the will to pick up her chips and leave. She could have stemmed her chip bleed by dropping down to the twenty-five-dollar minimum bets, but how could she possibly win back what she’d lost at that rate?
Diana came up behind Chuck and tapped him on the shoulder. Diana was Asian, pretty, and one of the newer dealers.
“My time is done here,” Chuck said and showed his hands. “Good luck, everyone.”
“Shit,” Clare murmured. She hated when dealers switched out. She felt the rapport built between the gambler and dealer. It was comfortable. Warm. The table went cold for her when a new dealer rotated in.
“Good evening, guys,” Diana said. “I hope everyone is well.”
Diana received a chorus of yeses.
Clare decided to give Diana a chance. Chuck had been dealing her cold cards for the last twenty minutes. Maybe Diana would change that.
She didn’t.
Clare left the table with under a hundred in chips.
She wandered the casino floor. She couldn’t leave now. She still felt a big win was within her grasp, and she wouldn’t be denied. She’d come up big tonight, as long as she could get her hands on some more seed money.
Chuck waved to her as he came the other way with a soda in his hand. “Hey, Clare, why the long face?”
She held up her chips.
“Yeah, I saw your luck change.”
“And I need it to change back.”
“Have you tried Gault? He’s in tonight. He’ll front you the money. He knows you’re good for it.”
Gault made a living loan-sharking at all the Indian casinos. The last thing she needed was to be on the hook to him again after she’d just gotten herself free of him. “Is Mitch or Two Step in tonight?”
Chuck shook his head. “I’ve only seen Gault. He’s over by the dollar slots if you want him. Anyway, I have to get back to it.”
She watched Chuck leave, then looked at her chips again. Tonight was her night. She believed it. She cursed under her breath and went in search of Gault.
She found him playing the slots, just as Chuck had said. He grinned as she approached. “Can’t get enough of me, eh, Clare? How much do you need?”
She hated that he knew what she was there for. “A grand.”
“Things going that bad, eh?”
She felt her temperature rise, but kept it in check. Gault liked to get vindictive when he felt dissed. “Can I get it?”
“Sure, you can. Follow me into my office.”
He led her outside into the parking lot. They sandwiched themselves between a couple of cars that belonged to neither of them. He brought out a thick roll of bills and peeled off hundreds with slow, deliberate speed.
“You know my rates, and I know where you live, so I don’t want any hassles when it comes to collecting this time. Do I make myself understood, Clare?”
“You assume I’m going to lose.”
Gault laughed. “Spoken like a true gambler.”
His laughter followed her into the casino.
She didn’t return to blackjack, in favor of the three-card poker tables. She liked blackjack, but it was a slow grind of a game. Three-card poker offered her the chance of greater reward, but naturally at a higher risk. She sat down and played.
She played hard and well, but her thousand only lasted her an hour.
Gault came over when she had lost two-thirds of her money. He watched her like a vulture watched a dying man. As soon as she stepped away from the table, he sidled up to her.
“Where now, Clare?”
“Home.” The word tasted bitter on her tongue. It was supposed to be a winning night. “I know when it’s time to admit defeat.”
“You know the clock is ticking on that money?”
“Of course.”
She didn’t slow her pace and kept heading toward the exit. Gault kept in step. “The thing that worries me is how and when I’ll get my money back. You’re becoming a bigger and bigger risk.”
“You’ll get it back, plus interest.”
“Oh, I like the determined tone, but”—he gripped her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh—“I need to know if you can get the cash.”
“Don’t you worry. I know how to get you the money.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Wake up, Olivia,” Andrew said. “She’s back.”
Olivia jerked awake. She grabbed the steering wheel and hauled herself up in her seat. She’d dozed off at some point without realizing it. She checked the Audi’s dashboard clock. It was after one in the morning. Olivia hadn’t expected Clare to be this late. What the hell was she doing out when she had work tomorrow? Then again, she was talking about Clare. Sensible wasn’t in her vocabulary.
Clare stopped her car under the carport and climbed out.
They’d parked a few units over from Clare’s to give them anonymity. They didn’t want her bolting if she saw Olivia’s car parked in front of her place. The second Clare emerged from her car, the two of them moved in.
“Olivia?” Clare said, but she was looking at Andrew.
“Where the hell have you been?” Olivia demanded. She wondered if Clare had run to Roy, but the stink of cigarettes and booze wafting off her sister told her Clare had been drowning her sorrows at some dive.
“Hey, I don’t have to answer to you.”
“I think we should take this inside,” Andrew said.
“Take what inside? And who are you?” The security light on Clare’s trailer clicked on to illuminate the three of them. “Andrew?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I didn’t know you two were still in touch after all these years.”
Clare unlocked the door and let them in. She dropped onto her sofa and eyed both of them with a sneer. “What’s he doing here?”
�
��I told him what’s going on.”
Clare snorted and shook her head. “Fan-fucking-tastic, Liv. Bring a stranger into all this.”
“He’s not a stranger.”
“I’m here to help,” Andrew said.
“Awesome. A clueless dope to the rescue.” Clare jumped up from her seat, brushed by Olivia, and grabbed the vodka bottle from the fridge.
“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Olivia said.
Clare shot her an ugly look. Olivia held up her hands in surrender. She wasn’t going to fight over this issue. She needed Clare’s cooperation, and it didn’t matter if she had a drink in her hand.
Clare returned to the sofa with the vodka and a single glass. Obviously, she wasn’t in the mood for sharing.
Olivia expected this reaction from Clare. She knew the fact that she’d brought Andrew would scare Clare, but also offend her. She would see this act of Olivia putting her faith in someone else as a sign that Olivia didn’t trust her. And the truth was, Clare would be right.
Olivia and Andrew followed Clare to the living room and sat on the sofa opposite.
“We want to ask you about Infidelity Limited,” Olivia said.
“Why?”
“We need to find a chink in their armor so that we can get to them.”
“We’re not supposed to talk about them, and definitely not supposed to involve anyone else. Why’d you drag Andrew into this? You don’t get it, do you? They are professionals. They don’t have chinks in their armor. Your best defense is to do what they say. It’s not to talk about them, and it’s not to bring in outsiders. What the hell do you think he can do to help?”
“Right now, I need all the friends and help I can get. Roy thrives on his victims suffering in silence and alone. As a group, we stand a chance against him. That includes you. It’s why we’re here.”
Clare sneered at Olivia, poured herself a drink, and sank half of it before saying, “What do you two geniuses want to know?”
“I’m guessing that Infidelity Limited doesn’t openly advertise their services,” Andrew said. “How did you learn about them?”
“It’s a referral system. Someone introduces you, and you introduce someone.”
So Infidelity Limited was a verbal pyramid scheme. Pyramid schemes were effective, but they had an inherent weakness. The pyramid always tracked back to a single person. Roy would be at its pinnacle. All they had to do was find the path back to Roy. The only problem was the number of layers between them and Roy. Clare was a client six years ago. How many other people had been suckered in since then? It could be dozens, or it could be hundreds.
