Page 58 of Hard Pass

“Make sure to log the timestamps on every shift,” I say. “Every spread adjustment. Every live bet that moves it. Every sharp—”

“Dublin.” Manny’s tone shifts.

“What?”

“Big movement. A large live bet.”

I look back to the screen where Cole keeps completing passes and moving them downfield.

“They’re adjusting the spread to a higher differential?” I ask, pulse ticking up a notch.

“No.” He pauses. “That’s why it stands out. All the other bets are pushing the over higher.”

“This one?”

“They’re protecting it.”

Protecting it. Meaning despite everything pointing to a touchdown, someone is betting it won’t happen.

My mind races.

He’d be insane to have someone place a bet right now with the world watching . . . unless that’s exactly why he would.

Or unless, it’s not him.

Grrr. I press my fingers to my eyes. This is such a mindfuck.

This is why you can’t have any personal ties to the person you’re investigating, Dublin. This is why you should call Marcus and let him decide if he should take you off the case or not.

“Hold on,” Manny says in that same tone that has my stomach sinking. “Player prop just hit. Huge bet.”

Player proposition bet. An assumption of what the athlete you’re betting on will or won’t do.

“What prop?” I ask, teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

Manny exhales slowly. “Interception.”

The one thing that Cole can control on the field.

My gaze snaps to the screen.

“They’re about to score,” I murmur.

“Yeah,” Manny says quietly. “Which means the new bet loses.”

Unless . . .

Time slows. Cole plants his foot. Draws his arm back. Everything about him says this is another clean throw.

Another step forward. Another inch toward sealing the game over spread.

But then Cole hitches. It’s small, subtle, but it’s there.

“No . . .” I breathe as the ball leaves his hand.

And even before it reaches the receiver, I know.

“Oh, shit,” Manny says.