Secrets That Kill (19 page)

“Five hundred thousand per person to begin, winner takes all, game ends at midnight,” Carson said.

“Agreed,” Ramos said. “The opening big blinds start at one thousand to be doubled every hour to facilitate a clear winner by our midnight agreement.”

“I agree,” Carson said. “I would like a five to ten minute break at the end of each hour.”

“Agreed,” Ramos said. He stared at Carson who stared back like it was a staring contest or something. They were both thinking how great it was going to be to beat the other, and I had to work hard to keep from rolling my eyes.

“Anything else?” Max asked. No one spoke, so he continued. “Take your places, and begin your game.”

I was kind of bummed that he didn’t say “let the games begin,” and then end with “may the odds be ever in your favor,” but that was probably asking too much. Besides, I might have burst out laughing, and that would never do.

Ramos pulled out my chair, and I dutifully sat while he stood directly behind me. The dealer put a stack of chips in front of me and I watched Carson put them in his chip well and did what he did. The bartender came by, asking me what I would like to drink. I grabbed a bottle of water from my purse and handed it to him. “Could you put that in a glass with some ice?” I asked.

“Um… sure,” he said. He smiled, but in his thoughts he was offended that I’d brought my own drink. Didn’t I know this was a first-rate joint? He had plenty of vitamin water. All I had to do was ask.

Oops. Oh well, nothing to do about looking like a novice now. At least Carson was getting a kick out of it, thinking his suspicions were right that I’d never played professionally before. It made him happy and eager to show me up, and stick it to Manetto at the same time.

It made me mad, but also determined that he’d be singing a different tune when I got done with him.

The dealer began shuffling the deck, and I took the moment to quickly grab my cheat sheet and place it on the table. “Do you mind if I keep this out?” I asked Carson. “It’s a list of the poker hands, you know, one pair… two pair. I just want to make sure I don’t mess up.”

“Um… that’s fine.” Carson smiled politely, but he was thinking that he could hardly believe it. Was I for real? Anyone else would have had that memorized. Wow, this was going to be a lot easier than he thought. He didn’t think he’d have to put his other plans into action if it was going to be this easy.

Other plans? He had other plans? Uh-oh. Now I had to make sure I figured out what they were before the night was over.

“Ready?” the dealer asked.

I nodded, then glanced at Carson, and my eyes widened in surprise. Carson had put these little round dark glasses on. It made him look like a fat John Lennon. I coughed to hide the choke of laughter that bubbled up, and cleared my throat.

The dealer had already dealt the first two cards so I quickly glanced at them. A queen and a ten… that’s good. Carson had an ace and a jack. Yikes! He had the big blind and me the small, so I folded instead of calling.

Ramos was thinking a queen and ten were good, what was I doing? I wanted to look at him over my shoulder and roll my eyes or something. He should know that Carson’s cards were better. Maybe listening to him wasn’t such a good idea.

The next three rounds came and went with me folding every one because Carson’s cards were still better. When was I going to get a good hand? At least Ramos had seen my puny cards and understood, but having him watch over my shoulder was not as helpful as I’d thought.

Carson was wondering if I knew how to play at all and thinking I should at least go one round without folding. How could I observe his playing style if I didn’t do that? The first rounds were the best for observing your opponent when the blinds weren’t so big. I wouldn’t have that luxury later. The game of poker was a lot more than winning and losing. It was finding the subtle tells and nuances in your opponent. Deciding from their body language if they had better cards than you. Gaining that experience only came by actually playing the game. Did I even know I could go further than the first round?

I let out my breath slowly and settled back in my chair. He didn’t think I could play, huh? Well, I’d show him. The next round my cards were high, and I called, going for the flop. I had an ace and a queen, and the flop showed a queen, a five, and a seven, giving me a pair of queens. Carson had a jack and a seven. With the flop, that gave him a pair of sevens, which wasn’t very high, but he was so excited that I’d actually bet that he put in two thousand dollar chips.

I called, and the dealer flipped the next card. It was a ten of hearts, which didn’t help either of us. Carson threw in another two thousand, expecting me to fold, but I called instead. The dealer flipped the next card, or river, and it was another ten.

Carson stared at me, trying to gauge if I actually had something. Since I hadn’t bet before, he figured I did, but did I have a queen, five, or ten? On a whim, he decided to place another bet, only this time it was ten thousand. If I were playing as cautiously as it looked, I’d fold over that much money, whether I had the queen or not, thinking he might have another ten.

I pursed my lips, trying to make it look like I wasn’t sure what to do. Since I had this in the bag, I decided to call and raise him, but I couldn’t make it too high or he wouldn’t take the bait. I threw in ten thousand, and then raised him five more. “Call and raise,” I said.

I tried to keep my expression neutral. Carson thought I probably had a pair of queens or another ten, but just in case I was bluffing, it was worth it to find out, so he called me.

I flipped over my cards, showing him my queen, and there was absolutely no expression on his face. It was like he was made of stone. I made a show of looking at his cards and gave a surprised smile that I’d won the round. He was thinking I’d been lucky this time, but it wouldn’t last. I wouldn’t always have better cards than him.

The next few rounds went about the same. I folded twice, then won the next two, and at the end of the hour, my stack was slightly larger than his. It was a relief when the dealer called for a break. The concentration it took to play was intense, but almost worse was not showing any emotion. Holding back my smile was killing me, and I worried that I could keep this up for five or six more hours.

Carson said he needed some fresh air. He left the room with his two goons trailing behind. Ramos nodded at the security guard stationed at the door, and he followed them at a discreet distance. The dealer left as well, leaving the room empty except for the bartender and us.

I stood and stretched, grateful to move my arms and legs.

Ramos came to my side. “You’re doing real well,” he said, his voice low so that only I could hear him. “In fact you’re doing so well, you probably don’t need me looking over your shoulder all the time.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “Honestly, it bothered me at first, but after a few hands, I didn’t even notice. But feel free to tell me stuff like you did that one time about the possibility of a flush. I almost missed that.”

“Sure.”

“Oh, and I picked up something from Carson,” I whispered. “He has something planned in case he loses, but I don’t know what it is yet. I guess he’s waiting to see how things go first.”

“Good to know,” Ramos said. “Maybe I’d better check with our guys and see if they noticed anything. Will you be all right here?”

“Yeah, I’ve got to visit the restroom, so go ahead.”

The bathroom was a nice sanctuary, and I took my time, even making faces in the mirror to get it out of my system, and doing some leg stretches. When I came out, everyone had returned, and it looked like I’d kept them all waiting. Oops, I hoped I hadn’t broken a cardinal rule or something. As I passed the bar, the bartender asked if I wanted more water, and I told him to keep it coming. He smiled, thinking I was okay after all, and hoped I’d win all that money. It was easy to smile at him after that.

Max came in to check on us, and after finding everything satisfactory, he quickly left. As we settled down to play this hour, I wasn’t so nervous, and after a few hands, I felt like I was starting to find a rhythm to the game. I was winning more, and my stack was showing it.

By the end of the hour, Carson was getting frustrated. He couldn’t understand how every time he had good cards I folded. It wasn’t so bad when we got as far as the turn or the river, because he still won a little, but he was losing more often. Something wasn’t right.

At the break, he left without saying a word to anyone, and I got worried that maybe I was playing a little too well. Was he going to do something rash? I still hadn’t heard anything more about the plan he had in place, and it bothered me.

“What’s wrong,” Ramos asked.

I sighed and pushed back my chair to stand up. “Can we go outside and get some air?”

“Sure.” Ramos guided me down the hall, opening the door to a blast of music from the band. “The walls are soundproof,” he said loudly, noticing my surprise. He walked me through the crowd to the door, pushing it open to the sultry evening air. The sun was low on the horizon, and things were starting to cool off.

“Where’s Carson?” I asked.

“He’s back inside, listening to the band.”

“Oh,” I nodded. “I’m a little concerned about him. He’s getting frustrated. Am I playing too well? Do you think I should lose a few hands?”

“Hell no,” Ramos growled. “Don’t change a thing. I’m enjoying this.”

“Did you find out how many men he brought and what they’re doing?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it covered,” Ramos replied. “And Nick should be here soon, so don’t worry about that. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s working great.”

“Okay,” I said, relieved. “I actually think I’m getting the hang of it. He keeps staring at me, but I hardly notice anymore. I have to say the hardest part is keeping a straight face, especially when I know I’m going to win.”

“You’re doing great,” Ramos smiled, thinking how satisfying it was to watch Carson squirm. And I was playing my part better than he’d hoped. He really enjoyed watching me play and wished Manetto were there to see it. Maybe when we got back he could set up a game, just for the hell of it. He glanced at me, knowing I’d heard everything, and shrugged. “It might be fun.”

“Yeah, you just want me to show off.”

“And win some money,” he added. “Don’t forget that part.”

“Hmm, there is that,” I agreed. “As long as I get to keep it.”

“Well, you might have to split it with me, since I’m the one who taught you how to play.”

“Sure. I get ninety percent, and you can have ten. How does that sound?”

“Like I’ll have to negotiate for better terms.” Ramos checked his watch. “We’d better get back.”

The next hour went by quickly. I made a couple of mistakes, but at the end of it, Ramos assured me I was still on track. Nick joined us during the break, letting us know he’d successfully delivered the information. He was impressed that I was doing so well and interested to watch the next round.

“Got anything more from Carson?” Ramos asked.

“No,” I responded.

Ramos told Nick I had a ‘premonition’ that Carson was up to something, but I didn’t know what it was yet. Nick nodded grimly, telling us he’d parked the car in the alley next to the employee entrance in case we needed to leave in a hurry. Ramos checked in with our hired guards, but they had nothing new to report.

“We’ll just have to keep alert,” Ramos said.

The break ended, and I went back to my chair with resignation. Playing poker this long was wearing me out, and I was ready for it to be over. With the fourth hour, we were now up to eight thousand for the big blind, and four for the small. That much money made things a little more difficult, and I had to really think about betting on some hands that I might not have at the beginning of the game.

After several hands, I’d won more than I’d lost, and I eagerly checked the clock. The hour was nearly over, but I was in a tight spot. My two cards were a six and ten, which were low, but Carson’s were worse, with a four and nine. Since he’d placed the big blind, and me the small, I added four thousand to call.

Rather than raise me, Carson checked. He’d only done that once before, so I decided to check too. It made him think I didn’t have anything, which was basically true except that my ten was higher than his nine. The flop came out with a five, a king, and an ace. Still nothing for either of us, but Carson threw in five thousand, so I called.

The turn was a lousy two. This time Carson checked again, wanting to see if I’d bet. I figured I’d check too, and Carson assumed I still didn’t have anything. The river turned up a seven. Carson decided that since I’d checked, he’d play to get the pot, and bet ten thousand, thinking I’d fold because betting that much meant he had something.

I knew I’d won the round, so I called his ten thousand and raised him twenty-five. He threw down his cards, shocking me with an emotional outburst. He was thinking I was such an amateur that I didn’t know when to fold. I didn’t know how to play real poker, and it was messing up his game. His face turned red, and he took shallow breaths. Cursing loudly in his mind, he ran his fingers over his thinning hair, trying desperately to get under control.

Wow, he was really mad. The dealer was working hard to keep a straight face and pushed the chips toward me. He began shuffling the deck for the next round, thinking this was the best poker match he’d ever witnessed and that I was an amazing player. That brought a smile to my lips.