Gran said nothing. Kenzie closed her eyes and tried to convince herself to believe it.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Reese phoned the Garrett Resources contract lawyers and set the wheels in motion to cancel the deal. But he wasn’t ready to contact Sea Titan yet. Giving the kidnappers what they wanted could be a death sentence for Griff.
It was afternoon when Tabby called on Reese’s disposable phone. They were back at the kitchen table, Gran holed up in her room.
“I’m with Kenzie,” Reese said. “I’m putting you on speaker.” Whatever happened, Kenzie deserved to be kept in the loop. Plus, he was sure there was no way in hell she was letting him do this alone. He set the phone on the table.
“A couple of things,” Tabby said. “First, I’m still working on that trace. These guys are good. I haven’t got anything yet, but I’ll keep at it.”
“Thanks, Tab.”
“Also, I’ve been looking into Black Sand Oil and Gas.”
“And?”
“The company has definitely been slipping in and out of the red. They need a way to infuse money into their coffers or they’re going to be in serious trouble.”
So his suspicions were confirmed. Black Sand needed the Poseidon. The question was, what lengths would they go to in order to get it? Murder? Kidnapping? Griff was Arthur’s grandson, his own flesh and blood. Was he willing to put the boy in danger to save his failing business?
“Anything else?” Reese asked.
“Hawk talked to one of his informants, picked up some info on Arthur Haines. Turns out Lee Haines wasn’t a gambler, but his father is. According to Hawk, Arthur keeps it strictly on the down-low, only sits in on the most exclusive card games, but word is he fancies himself a highly skilled player and he isn’t interested in anything but very high stakes.”
Reese cast a glance at Kenzie, caught a spark of anger in her eyes. She was making the same connection he was. It was looking more and more like Arthur was involved.
“Where does Arthur gamble?” Kenzie asked.
“With a company to run in Dallas,” Reese added, “it may not be Vegas. Good chance it’s somewhere closer to home.”
“I took a look at his credit card receipts,” Tabby said. “As a high-dollar player, his hotel stays, food, and alcohol would be comped. They’d give him pretty much anything he wanted. But I found gas receipts along the route to Louisiana.”
“Louisiana,” Reese repeated. “That connection keeps cropping up.”
“It looks like Shreveport was his destination. There are half a dozen casinos along the river.”
“Can you tell which club he plays in?” Kenzie asked.
“There are a few miscellaneous charges in the area around the Pot-of-Gold Resort Casino. A Mexican restaurant and a little bakery, both within walking distance. But Sam’s Town isn’t much farther away. For now that’s all I’ve got.”
“Thank you so much, Tabby,” Kenzie said.
“Stay safe, you two.”
Reese shoved the phone into his pocket. “Hawk thinks Lee was killed by a shooter connected to the Louisiana mob. They run the casinos. Now we find a link between Arthur and the Shreveport clubs.”
“I can’t believe Arthur would harm his own grandson,” Kenzie said.
“If he’s gambling in high-stakes games, he might owe the casino more money than he can pay. Those guys don’t mess around. A couple of broken legs would be less than nothing to them. Big losses? Could be a whole lot worse.”
Kenzie picked up her mug, the coffee long grown cold. Instead of taking a sip, her hands shook as she set the mug back down on the table. Reese wished he could convince her to eat something, but so far she hadn’t had a bit of food all day.
His disposable rang again. It was Hawk. Reese hit the speaker button.
“You talk to Tabby?” Hawk asked.
“She called, brought us to speed.”
