Kenzie made no reply. A new hand of cards arrived. She tapped for a hit, then turned over her hand when she busted.
“That’s the real reason I’m here,” she said as the dealer swept in the bet. “My ex is a gambler. He used to come to the Pot-of-Gold all the time. He always lost way more than he ever won, but that didn’t stop him. I think he might be here with my son.”
Shirley began to shuffle all six decks in the shoe, breaking them into small stacks, shuffling until all of the cards were rearranged, then stacking them back in the box.
She slid Kenzie’s cards across the green felt table. “I’m about to take a break. I’ve got a couple of friends who work in housekeeping. Not many kids in a club like this one. How old is he?”
“Griff’s nine.”
Shirley nodded. “I’ll ask them to put the word out, see if any of the maids have seen a nine-year-old boy upstairs in one of the rooms.”
“That would be so great.” She placed a new bet as she took a photo out of her purse, wrote her cell number on the back, and handed it to Shirley.
“That’s Griff,” she said. “My cell number’s on the back.”
Shirley slid the photo into the pocket of her black slacks. “I hope I can help. Us gals gotta stick together.” She spread her hands on the table and walked away as a new dealer, a young Asian woman, appeared to take her place.
Kenzie played a few more hands, but her winning streak had died long ago and she was anxious to talk to Reese. She winced as she slid down from the stool, turned and spotted him seated at a slot machine a few feet away. In his battered straw hat and snug black T-shirt, he looked like a country girl’s dream. She had a hunch he’d been there awhile, keeping watch over her. Kenzie felt a rush of longing.
“I saw you talking to the dealer,” he said as she approached. “Find out anything?”
“No, but she’s going to ask around, see if any of the housekeeping staff has seen a nine-year-old boy.”
Reese’s black brows drew into a frown as he punched the spin button on the slot machine.
“I know it’s dangerous,” Kenzie said, reading the look on his face. “But if there’s a chance he’s here, we need to know.”
Reese’s sigh held a hint of resignation. “You’re right. Let’s wander some more, then we’ll head over to the casino steakhouse and get some supper. That’ll give us more time in the club. Maybe you’ll spot one of the men or your dealer will call.”
There was only a very slim chance either of those things would happen, but as they prowled the casino floor, Kenzie clung to the thin shred of hope.
Griff stared at the clock. It was almost time for one of the men to check on him. He could feel his heart thumping as fast as when he stole third base, and his hands were sweating. For the last hour, he had been planning, figuring a way to escape.
He had heard the men talking, knew their voices, knew the short guy’s name was Eddie. The other guy, Nolan, had left a while ago. He’d be back when it was his turn, he’d said. Which meant there was only one of them in there now.
Griff heard footsteps on the carpet, watched the door swing open and Eddie walk in. Both men always wore ski masks but there was just something creepy about Eddie. The guy was a scary dude.
Griff wished he could wait for the other guy, even though he was bigger, but he didn’t stand a chance against both of them. He had to go for it now.
“You need to take a piss?” Eddie asked harshly.
Griff managed to nod. “Yeah.”
Eddie walked over and unfastened the handcuff. “Behave yourself and I’ll leave it off. You can get a good night’s sleep. Fuck with me and you’ll be sorry.”
Griff’s mouth dried up. Did he really have the nerve to do this? “Okay,” he said.
Sliding off the bed, he hurried into the bathroom, closed the door, and just stood there, dragging in deep breaths of air, trying to work up his courage. There was no window in the bathroom. He had to get past Eddie to escape. The only possible weapon he could find was the toilet brush next to the john.
He grabbed it, walked out by the tub where there was room to swing it a few times and see how it felt in his hands.
“Hurry the fuck up in there.”
Griff quietly opened the bathroom door. Eddie stood across the room, facing away from him, his cell phone pressed to his ear. It was now or never.
Slipping silently out of the bathroom, he gripped the toilet brush like a bat and swung it with all his strength. He played Little League ball and he was pretty good. He cracked Eddie in the side of the head so hard the handle on the brush broke and flew off in pieces. The guy staggered sideways and Griff streaked past him out of the bedroom into the living room and raced for the door.
“Son of a bitch!” Eddie’s footfalls thundered behind him and icy fear slid into his stomach. Griff fumbled with the lock and jerked the door open but Eddie slammed it shut. Griff whirled and tried to punch him, managed to grab the ski mask and jerk it off over his head.
