With precisely forty-five minutes to the robbery, he moved into position, following the plan Cordell had assigned him. He entered the casual dining restaurant, grateful it was still open, and sat down at a table closest to the gaming floor. He ordered a cup of coffee and waited.
Baker and Karl would be close, though Wyatt hadn’t spotted them yet.
His coffee arrived and he thanked the waitress. The only bright spot was that Evie was out of sight, working in that ballroom and nowhere near the retail area. She wouldn’t see him commit a crime. He couldn’t help wondering if she’d believe it when the casino security linked him to the robbery. She’d have to when they showed her the camera feed. Despite Cordell’s plans, it would be impossible to avoid every camera.
He could already imagine Sheriff Russell interrogating her about Wyatt and their recent conversations in and around the casino. If he wasn’t already double-crossing Cordell, knowing Evie would suffer would be enough to turn him against the thief.
She would hate him for the rest of her life. What he was about to do would not only make the FBI take a harder look at her finances and her recent ties to Cordell, it would likely cost her the job here at the Silver Aces. He pinched the bridge of his nose.She’d take some heat from the community too, not unlike some of the griping aimed at her because she spent so much time with him, the only son of the woman who owed money to everyone in town.
Somehow, if he got Cordell’s crew into FBI custody, Wyatt would find a way to make it up to her.
Playing his assigned role, he sipped his coffee and kept his gaze on his phone. Bringing up the weather app, he nearly swore out loud. The radar showed the entire area covered by thick bands of snow and icy precipitation. Cordell must be trying to get the diamonds out ahead of the road closures. If he’d bothered to ask before throwing all of this into motion, Wyatt could’ve explained why that wouldn’t work.
He used the app to zoom out, looking for a better way from Deadwood to the rendezvous. Heading south first might be the best hope of making it within a day. The only good news was that the law enforcement, sure to follow them, would have an equal challenge. His stomach knotted. Law enforcement who gave chase would also run the risk of driving right off the road.
Opening the text messages, he sent a private message to Cordell, suggesting he postpone the robbery.
Cordell: Cold feet?
Wyatt: Common sense. Move the meet.
Cordell: Meet stays. Contact is out of reach.
Wyatt: Understood.
Great. This was going down, weather be damned. He considered warning Cordell that the route might shift, but didn’t bother. He watched the minutes tick down on the clock displayed on his phone. Right on time, Tate Cordell strolled by the restaurant, crossing from the slot machines toward the retail row of shops. It was the first time Wyatt had seen him here at the casino and he looked for all the world like a man without a care.
Wyatt fought back a sudden urge to blow up the entire plan. Sure it would cost him his reward money but Evie wouldn’t hate him. With one text or an anonymous phone call, he could tip off the casino security staff. A trickle of dread slid down his spine as he considered it. Upping the timeline, trying to stick with the same escape route in this weather was all wrong.
With twenty minutes to go, he received a reminder from Pickering that local support was officially suspended for weather, followed by a suggestion to keep Cordell and his crew in the building.
Sure, because a standoff in a building that couldn’t be evacuated would be so much more appealing than an escape through a blizzard. Was the snow impairing everyone’s common sense?
He sat back, a picture of calm when he wanted to jump on the table and scream out his frustrations. That was tempting, another action that would bring in security from all sides. Of course, if he did that, Cordell would use the distraction to his advantage and Wyatt would be left twisting in the wind trying to explain his breakdown to the FBI.
Nearby one of the slots paid out, complete with flashing lights, bells and music, and the coveted sound of tokens overflowing the tray. Hooray for payday, he thought, thoroughly disgusted. His mother had craved that singular, raucous sound over everything else, including food, water, and her only child. She’d chased that ultimate mood lifter, heedless of what went undone or unsaid.
With only ten minutes to go, Wyatt scanned the area, confirming the security teams were where they needed to be. He dropped cash on the table to cover his coffee, though he gave serious thought to charging it to the room. That option too would’ve given him a way to write a note and warn someone outside the FBI that a robbery was about to occur. Instead,he stuck with the plan, even though the FBI had suddenly withdrawn their tactical support.
He took up his new position in a seating area between the retail space and their intended exit. His expression neutral, he kept his gaze on his cell phone and waited for the alarm to sound.
“Wyatt?”
At the sound of Evie’s voice, his mind blanked. This could not be happening. She was supposed to be in the ballroom. If he doubted it before, here was confirmation that the operation was cursed.
“I thought you were busy with the private event.” Too busy to have lunch with him.
“What’s wrong?” Her smile faded as she studied his face. “You look more upset than you did earlier.” She bit her lip. “It’s being here, isn’t it? And now you’re stuck.” She turned him toward the hotel. “Come on. I can get you set up with a massage.”
“No, Evie. Wait.”
“On the house,” she said.
He dug in his heels, blocking her view of the jewelry store and preventing her from dragging him out of position. In his head he swore a blue streak in Cordell’s general direction. “You should get back to the ballroom. Don’t want to miss any good tippers.”
“It’s less of a priority,” she said. “Between you and me, Cottonwood just hit the jackpot.”
“I beg your pardon?” Pickering could not be right about Evie.
