All the Hidden Sins. Marian Lanouette
legs went lax, her hands got clammy as fear smothered her. Dizzy, her breath hitched in her lungs. Damn, she shouldn’t leave the floor with him. She owed seventy-five thousand dollars on the loan she had taken out from the private finance company Joe had hooked her up with. She paid off the casino. Stupid—what a fool I am. I should’ve made a partial payment with the three grand instead of gambling tonight. They won’t beat me up, will they? A whirlpool of bile swirled its way up her throat. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to blink them away before they fell.
“Are you all right?” Joe asked.
“I don’t want to leave the public floor.” Her voice cracked. There had to be a way out of this.
“I have a deal for you, but I can’t discuss it in an open area. We’ll discuss it upstairs, over dinner.” He flashed a toothy smile.
His smile was meant to calm her, but it did the opposite. “What kind of deal?”
“We’ll discuss it upstairs,” he repeated.
“You’re not going to break my legs or anything, are you?” she joked halfheartedly.
“No such thing, Kyra. Relax.”
Now’s the time to worry.
* * * *
The worst thing about a promotion—the paperwork. Call him crazy, or sick, but he’d rather work a juicy murder then process paper. Too bad Louie had taken lead on last night’s case, and Burke had the old lady. Now he was sitting in the chief’s office, with Shamus throwing numbers around for his departmental budget and his head was spinning. A necessary evil, but wasn’t that what accountants were for?
His cell phone rang as he reviewed a column of numbers. It was Louie. God, he’d have kissed him if he’d been in the room.
“Excuse me,” he said to Shamus. He pressed the talk button. “What’s up?”
“We caught one,” Louie said.
“I’ll be there in a few.” Jake ended the call as he turned toward his captain. “Commissioner, Captain, there’s a new one.”
“Somehow, I knew you’d find a way to get out of this,” Shamus said. “Why don’t you let Louie run it?”
“He’s running the one we picked up last night.”
“Louie’s quite capable of handling both, Jake.” Shamus leaned over to him, whispered in his ear, “I’m stuck, you’re stuck.” McGuire grinned as he leaned back in his chair.
Trapped.
He hit redial. “Take one of the junior detectives with you.”
Jake grunted as Louie’s laughter poured over the line. He cut him off mid-choke.
“Jake, evaluate both your department and Missing Persons. The mayor wants to cut our budget again. We’re going to fight it, but I need proof and stats as to why cutting the force is a bad idea. I understand there’s some deadwood in Missing Persons. You might want to start there. Don’t give the mayor cause to zero in on your department.”
He’d heed the warning. Velky had put a bullseye on his back when Jake had gotten the mayor’s man, Captain Miller, kicked off the force for corruption. Politics—it didn’t belong on the force.
He scribbled on his note pad. Two detectives from Missing Persons stood out. He’d be a happy camper if they transferred out or got laid off. The ones he had in mind had belligerently voiced their displeasure over the Miller incident. Did he, without cause, want to put them on the block? Their mediocre evaluations told Jake their former lieutenant hadn’t held them in high regard either. It was his decision.
“You have something to add?” Commissioner Blake asked.
“No, sir.”
He wasn’t going to voice his opinion. This temporary assignment to combine both departments might be a permanent thing. He wouldn’t put it past the mayor to meld them together for a laugh to overwhelm him. He’d have to wait and see. Budget cuts, his ass. This was the mayor’s game to show who pulled the strings.
And Mayor John Velky was an expert at the game.
* * * *
Kyra needed to remember that the hosts were sharks. Their job was simple—they had to get you to put your money into the machines. They didn’t care where it came from, or if it destroyed your life, as long as you put it into the machines. They got paid by their successes. Kyra guessed she was one of Joe’s successes because her life was in shambles.
“Okay.” It can’t be all bad. Kyra gave Joe a sideward glance as he pressed the button for the thirty-sixth floor.
The elevator stopped. The doors glided open. She’d heard the rumors about this floor. Had always been curious to see it. The other gamblers in the private rooms had talked about it, but you only got to go up here if you were invited. A Whale. To the casino a Whale was defined as a person who spent big bucks. Not thousands, but hundreds of thousands, even millions—the casinos catered to them. What they asked for, they got: wine, song, and women. The Whales mingled with the casino owners and the big-name entertainers. The owners were their hosts.
Kyra stepped off the elevator and took in her surroundings with a keen eye. The Monet on the wall, the oriental carpets, and the fine bone china and lead-crystal wine goblets that graced the tables. Big money. All she needed was a tiny bit of it, she’d be able to survive—straighten out her life.
“Right this way.”
Joe held out her chair. She sat and released the breath she had been holding since she encountered Joe.
“What do you want to drink? Dom Pérignon?”
Do they wine and dine you before they kill you? At least I’ll have good champagne before I die. “Yes please.” He smiled as he put his hand on hers. He’s good. I bet with his other hand, he’ll shoot me. “Why the special treatment?”
“As I said, Kyra, I want to discuss your payment options.” He stopped talking as the waitress stepped up to their table.
From her peripheral vision, Kyra was aware that the waitress had placed cocktail napkins in front of each of them before putting down the champagne bottle, though she never broke eye contact with Joe.
“Can I take your order?” the server asked.
He ordered for both of them. She sipped her champagne and savored the cool bubbly sensation as it rolled over her tongue.
“How do you like your steak?” Joe asked.
“Medium.”
“Two filet mignon, garlic mashed potatoes, and asparagus. Sound good, Kyra?”
“Yes.”
“Irene, have the chef put on a chocolate soufflé for dessert.”
“Yes, Mr. Dillon.”
Kyra watched the waitress walk away to process their order.
I’m in deep shit. Nobody pampers you for nothing.
Rubbing her sweaty palms on her napkin, she wished for a towel to wipe the well of water away that had accumulated between her breasts. Kyra turned her attention back to Joe and waited for the bomb to explode.
“Kyra, you understand I not only work here at the casino, I’m employed by the people who hold the paper.”
“The paper?” She understood him, but wanted him to make it crystal clear.
“Your loan, along with other people’s loans.”
“What kind of paper do they hold?”
“All kinds of paper. Whatever a person needs at the moment. My boss is a generous man. At times he offers an individual a deal to make the paper go away. That lucky person also walks away with some cash in his—or her—pockets.”