“I approve.” She clicks her tongue three times, appraising me openly. “In fact, this look on you might bring out my innercougar. Especially with them tats out.” She whistles facetiously. “I didn’t know you had ink. Better watch yourself, cub.”
My cheeks burn with a rare blush. Katrina’s never been one for flirting. Quite the opposite, actually. She uses her snark to keep men at bay. She once told me her tips are worse when she’s sweet or flirty than when she employs hersassybitty energy—her words, not mine.
Wearing a shy grin, I wave her off. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I am taken.”
Her head kicks back, and her eyes bulge. “No way.You? Taken? Since when?”
“It’s new.”
And old.
She leans her forearms on the bar. “Who’s the lucky gal?”
My earpiece crackles, Hemsley’s voice coming through. “The canary is landing on her perch.”
I throw a glance at the casino floor, noticing Lila arriving at her table. When we came up with her code name, it took me all of a half-second to pick.
Careful not to stare, I thrust my eyes back to my bartender, realizing I’ve inadvertently answered her question.
“Oh, really? Her?” Katrina hums, her gaze darting between Lila and me. “Took you long enough to make a move.”
In the interest of maintaining my cover, I should probably dispute her assumption. But I don’t. Because the mere idea of denying that Lila’s mine is repulsive.
Besides, Katrina doesn’t pose a risk to the operation.
I shrug at her, acting indifferent. “There’s something to be said for patience.”
“Well, I approve.” She straightens, pushing off the bar with both hands. “What can I get you, big spender?”
She takes my order, then shuffles off. Poor thing doesn’t get two steps away before she’s waved down for refills from a largeparty. Another guest is hounding her for his check. She throws me an apologetic look over her shoulder.
I’m in no rush, though. I’ll be here all night. Unlike other times I’ve camped out here, I’m on the job tonight.
Since I’ve spent so much time at the bar, I figured it’d be easy to blend in like normal from in here. If I decided to play a game or troll around the floor, that might stand out to anyone who’s been watching me.
Agents Carson and Andrews are monitoring everything from our surveillance van, which is parked near the loading dock. Agents Hemsley, Romero, McBride, and Fowler are scattered around the gaming tables, all of them posing as gamblers. The whole team, myself included, is outfitted with hidden comms that capture audio and video. The more footage we get, the better for the case.
Lila’s decorated with more than her card-marking thumb rings. She’s also got a few pieces of jewelry on that capture video and audio. Anything we need to tell her will be transmitted via a tiny earpiece.
When Lila tried to call Silas earlier, it went straight to voicemail. He finally replied to her after about an hour, instigating a text exchange. Without him on an actual voice call, we couldn’t ping his location from cell towers.
However, the text conversation went better than we hoped. He practically did all the work for us.
In essence, he said he couldn’t see her until she was done with her work—meaning he wouldn’t meet with her unless she kept marking cards. Rather than caving right away, she played it the way she normally would, resisting and trying to convince him she’s already done plenty. If she would’ve immediately folded, he would have seen it as a red flag.
In the blink of an eye, Lila seamlessly worked her way back into the cheating ring. Technically, she never left, aside from herlast few scheduled days off and her dismissive texts from the other night.
For the first hour of her shift, nothing much happens. She marks the cards, but never utters the code phrase to indicate the cheaters have swarmed.She’s paid enough attention over the last few weeks to have a good idea of what most of them look like.
If her shift goes as planned, the first person from the gang will ask an innocuous question aboutluckwhen they approach her table, waiting for her to respond with the signal that the cards are marked and ready before taking a seat.
So far, no sign of them.
Fifteen minutes into hour two, McBride opens his microphone so the entire team can hear him, not just the van duo.“Those are some nice rings, ya got there, pretty lady. Did you buy them in town?”
“I don’t remember where I got them,” a meek female voice responds.
Luke continues, embellishing his twang more than usual. “That’s a cryin’ shame. My kid sister’s birthday is right around the corner. I reckon she’d love some sparkly rings like ‘em.”
