Cashed In Part 24

Now Sam smiled. He turned over his pocket for a pair of eights and a pair of Kings. His smile faded to a frown when he saw my cards.

Twenty-seven.

Thankfully, I got to keep my seat. I was superst.i.tious before I became a Texas Hold 'Em player and the game has only made it worse. I really think that if the cards are falling one way on a table, they will keep falling that way the rest of the game. That's why I find HORSE so fascinating. Playing for high cards then playing for low, takes talent and adaptability-throw in the luck factor and it certainly makes for interesting play.

The tournament was down to nine players. The only poker stars left were the Russian and me-by default, certainly, since four of the best players hadn't had the chance to finish. Kinkaid sat Ben next to me, on purpose, I'm certain. With TV cameras rolling for a future telecast the cruise line would heavily promote, the more drama the better. Maybe she thought we'd get in a knock-down-drag-out a la Jerry Springer.

Maybe we would.

I had to fold the first six deals with no suited cards, no pairs and nothing higher than a nine, and I wondered if I'd used all my luck in the first half of the night. It worked out well for me, however, since four of the remaining players were eliminated in dramatic fashion by Ben and the Russian while I sat hording chips, not even forced to post a blind. Kinkaid swung by and whispered a warning. "You and your bro better not be in collusion. If I find proof, I'll have you punished."

She sounded so antic.i.p.atory of the prospect that I couldn't help asking, "Punish me how? By flipping me over the railing like the poor insurance investigator?"

Kinkaid drew back in shock then leaned in, smiling so the cameras couldn't pick up her animosity. "Are you kidding? I'd rather see you tortured slowly as you've tortured me this whole cruise-having to give up all your fancy clothes and money and look out from behind bars for years rather than something quick and easy like being sucked into the Gulf waters or chomped to death by a sharp-toothed shark."

Aw, so warm and fuzzy. I smiled at her. Ben was watching us with eyebrows raised over his John Lennon lenses.

The dealer called my attention to the bet. I peeked at my pocket and frowned at the Ace and King of clubs peeking back. I had a hard time lying, but with shades, I could manage a pretty good poker face. Over the last couple of months I'd been experimenting with opposite reactions and found they not only helped me curb my emotions at the table but also often threw off other players.

I sat at the b.u.t.ton but had missed the bets while verbally dueling with Kinkaid, so quickly reviewed them now. Every player had stayed in the game, but conservatively. That meant Ben had nothing in his hand or he'd have hit the felt hard. I didn't know about the rest except Sam, who I guessed from his bet had either an Ace high or a high pair otherwise he'd have folded.

I wanted to milk the hand for more chips so I called all the way to The Turn. n.o.body had padded the pot by much, even though The Flop came a four of hearts, ten of clubs, King of hearts. Fourth Street showed an Ace of diamonds. With two pair I had to raise but Sam beat me to it. He had a pair of something, maybe three of a kind. But I had the two highest pairs so I had to hold my breath and go all in. Everybody but Sam ducked out, grumbling.

I nailed the full house on The River with an Ace of hearts and shook my head in amazement. Smiling again, Sam turned over his two pair, Aces and Kings, and cupped his hands around the chips. He'd slid them halfway toward himself when I slowly turned up my cards. His eyes widened, then narrowed to black slits as his grin faded and he lifted his hands up off the felt. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his jacket, jammed it on and stuck a hand in the pocket where I'd slipped the note I'd written earlier. His brows drew together as he pulled it out. The dealer had distributed our pocket cards, so I peeked at them while watching Sam read my note.

Meet me at the aft deck after the tournament and I'll share some tips on how to win the game of modern Hold 'Em.

-BC Sam stared at me a beat and then stomped off, anger radiating from him in almost tangible waves. He was mad enough now to kill, that was for sure. I just hoped Jack wouldn't let me down or I was going to be in real trouble.

The tournament ended up being an advertising dream come true. If I hadn't been involved, I think Kinkaid would have been giddy. Ben had been luckier than I'd been in catching cards and despite his wild, overconfident betting we ended up heads up at the end of the tournament. Every now and then I could hear the TV commentators in the corner of the room having a field day with the Hold 'Em twins-Bee Cool and Ben . . . what?

"What are they calling you?" I leaned into my brother.

He shrugged and winked into a camera. "Ben Hot."

Oh gag, his ego had been overblown enough as it was. Instead of razzing him about it, I just nodded, hoping the more distracted he became with his stardom, the more likely I would be to sneak away with the last hand. It worked for a while. I had him down to a third of my chips. It was time to step it up. At the break, he was inundated with giggling women wanting his autograph in and on all sorts of interesting places.

I waited until most of our audience had cleared the room, then escaped to the restroom. Ingrid was sulking outside in the hall and fell into step with me as I went around the corner to a less crowded facility. We ducked in.

"I thought you were working, Ingrid," I observed coolly.

"I am," she sulked. "Frank is my boss on this project. He's decided babysitting you is more important than the real job."

"That's silly. I'm in a public place on film for goodness' sake. I don't think anyone will try to snag me during the tournament."

She shrugged as she pushed into the first stall. "That's what I told him. He said the last time you were in trouble you were shot at on live TV. I pointed out that this tournament is taped, so any bloodshed would be edited out. He's just not reasonable when it comes to you."

I no sooner heard the lock slide on her door than the restroom door opened and in my peripheral vision I could see a figure charge toward me. Before I could cry out in surprise, a hand with a wet handkerchief clamped down over my mouth. My vision went blurry, the room spun. I felt like I was drunk. I started to giggle.

"I don't find this funny at all, Bee," Ingrid said, irritated, from inside her stall. "This is a serious investigation. Lives are at stake and you . . ."

I was dragged by my arms out the door. A woman out in the hall elbowed her husband and sniffed in my direction.

"Pruuuuuuuude," I slurred as her husband hurried her away.

"She's drunk," my dragger explained. I knew that voice. I'd just heard it, really recently. Tonight? My mind was suddenly so slippery, I just couldn't pin down the information floating around in it.

"Whhhhhhere are weeeeee goiiiiiiing?"

My escort didn't answer and I couldn't seem to get my head to respond to a signal to turn and look at who was propelling me forward. I thought there was something in my purse if I could find it but I couldn't figure out how lipstick would help when kidnapped. Doors opened and I felt the warm sea breeze on my face. It was refreshing and I focused a bit better for a moment.

It had gotten really dark out on deck. I thought there should have been some lights out here, but there wasn't anything where we were but moonlight. Where were we? Better question: Who was the other half of the we? A flash caught my gaze-the video camera hidden in an upper corner of the awning. I peered at it. The lens was covered with black electrical tape. Uh-oh. That realization was enough to fill me with adrenaline, allowing me to twist out of his grasp.

I was face-to-face with Sam Hyun. He pushed me against the cold deck railing. "I thought our daaaate wa.s.sssssss after the tournaaaaaament?" My tongue felt thick and slow.

"It was a good idea but I couldn't wait."

"They'lllll beeee misssssing me," I offered.

"They'll get used to it."

I was getting progressively more lucid-impending death does that to you. I decided to let him think I was still half out of it when I was only about a quarter goofy. "Whhhhyyyy?" I c.o.c.ked my head at him.

"Because you're done with tournament poker. I told you before I'm going to kill your game and I am." He pulled out a paper and read. "I, Belinda Cooley, admit without a doubt that I cheat at the game of Texas Hold 'Em by collusion, by marked cards, by signaling in Las Vegas tournaments and those throughout the world. Signed on this day-"

"I'm nnnot gonna siiiiiiign that!"

Hyun grabbed me by my ponytail, lifted me off the ground, folded my body over the railing and showed me the churning water below. "Yes, you are, or you are going swimming."

Face-to-face with the churning silver water below, I found my tongue. "I guess Rawhide, Mahdu and Ferris didn't sign it, huh? I guess the poor investigator found you to be the one who's thrown dozens over ship railings over the past couple of years."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me. And I guess you keep feeding Rick pills like the liquid you just tried to drug me with, to make him forget your attack."

"You're nuts! Why would I feed Rick my cologne?"

"Your cologne?" I shouted.

Sam nodded proudly. "Polo."

No wonder I got nauseous. Toby, my ex-fiance, used to wear Polo. "You didn't threaten the others?"

"You're the only one I want out of the game." He frowned. "No woman should be able to play poker, especially not like you do."

I relaxed. Sam was all blow and no go. I shook my head and shoved the paper away, sneezing the Polo out of my nose twice. "Let me go."

"Okay. It's your funeral." He shrugged and loosened his hold on my leg. I slid closer to the dark, shiny water. "Wait. Let me go after you pull me back to the deck."

"Sam the Man, slowly and carefully pull Miss Cooley back on deck or I'll sh-shoot," I heard Jack's voice order with barely a hint of his stutter, from somewhere behind Hyun. Where did the Smack get a gun?

"Don't shoot," Hyun begged, eyes widening. "I was just scaring her."

"It's not nice to tease the killer whales, Sam. The SPCA'll get you for that."

I was flipped back up on deck like a tuna. From my vantage point, I could see Jack digging the video camera into Hyun's back as he walked him forward into the deck railing. "Hey, that doesn't feel like a gun," Hyun said.

Scrambling to my feet and plucking Mom's purse out of his waistband, I ran before Sam could figure out he was being held by a social phobic at video point.

I nearly ran over Ian as I pushed my way through the doors back into the lobby.

"What's wrong?" He stopped me with his hands on my shoulders.

"Sam Hyun is trying to kill me," I wheezed between huffs.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the stairs. "Come with me, quick."

We took the stairs two at a time. I paused before we tackled the next story. "I can't abandon Jack. He saved me."

Ian picked up the house phone and reported the chase on the deck to security, then grabbed my hand and we raced down the hallway. Ian pulled out his key card and opened the door, shoving me in.

"But what about Jack?" I asked. "I should go back to make sure they get the real story and arrest Hyun. It think he's the one who threw all the poker stars overboard."

"Not these poker stars by chance?" Ian asked low in my ear.

I turned slowly and my breath caught at the scene before me. "What's going on here?"

"We're having a little game," Ian answered calmly. Mahdu, Rawhide and Denton Ferris sat at a makeshift poker table, all duct taped at their torsos. Mouths and wrists duct taped, they all shot me panicked looks as Ian continued, "And you weren't invited, Belinda. But since you're here, we'll let you play. I've always wanted to bring a woman into our little experiments but I have never seen any that warranted the effort. I wondered after the Big Kahuna whether you might be the one, but you had to prove to be more than just lucky. I've been very impressed by your play during this Gambler tournament, but I also liked you a little too much to sacrifice you for information. I'm so glad that you made the decision for me by needing to be rescued."

I waited a beat for someone to cue the Twilight Zone music, because that is what the whole scene evoked. "What decision?" I asked.

Ian blinked at me, surprised. "Whether it was worth losing a hot woman for my science. Men, now they are expendable, but a woman I might want, that leads to a dilemma."

"Wouldn't I have to want you too?"

"Don't you?" Ian asked. "I know I felt some chemistry going on, surely thanks to those pheromones I have been wearing. Another experiment that's working quite well."

"I don't think your pheromones could overpower your personality," I deadpanned. "That tends to matter more to me."

"As I said," he continued, dismissing my barb, or not hearing it at all, "you've chosen your own fate."

"And that would be?"

"To play poker for your life."

"What?"

"Those are the stakes of this particular ring game," Rhonda said, coming out from the bathroom with Paul, who brandished a roll of duct tape. Ian's arm slid down my back and grabbed a wrist. I twisted away as his other hand grabbed my left wrist. I kicked out, bucked my body and screamed. Duct tape slapped down over my nose and mouth. I couldn't breathe but kept fighting as they dragged me to a chair. The fighting thing was probably a bad idea since I was suffering from oxygen deprivation sooner than I would have had I been a limp noodle. Pretty soon I would be a limp noodle, I realized, as I went weak. Things started going dim.

All of a sudden Ian reached over and ripped the tape off my face. Let me tell you what, microdermabrasion has nothing on duct tape. I sucked in a breath as Ian sneered at Paul.

"You idiot. Don't kill her yet."

My hero.

Since my mouth was free I decided to use it. "What are you doing with us?"

"No-limit Hold 'Em with more motivation than you will find in any other game. Play for cash, but the one who has the most at the end of the game wins his life back.

"The rest, well, we thank you for your donation to science by removing your brain for further study." He waved at one of the beds laid out with surgical equipment, some jars with formaldehyde standing by on the nightstand. We drank that in for a terrifying moment before he continued. "Then we throw you over the side of the ship because we believe in recycling."

Ferris whimpered. Mahdu's eyes popped out. Rawhide growled. I shivered against my duct tape prison. Being visually adept wasn't always an advantage when I could see so clearly in my mind's eye sharks feasting on headless corpses, mine included. The term card shark took on a whole new meaning.

"If it's not really a tournament table, not a true ring game, then how long is the game?" I asked. It mattered desperately because I played very differently if I sat down to win a little money in a ring game than if I had to long haul it at a tournament. One was a game where the more who played, the more money there was in the pot. The other was a game where the faster you eliminated players, the closer you were to walking away number one.

"That is what you don't know. You can't play it like a tournament, you can't play it like a true ring game where you can get up and leave any time. Therefore you can't strategize or plan, you just have to win as much as you can as soon as you can. I've discovered it's the best way to see into a reactive poker brain."

Paul had walked over. I looked at him. "So this is the offer you couldn't refuse to get yourself out of hock? Killing people?"

Flushing red, Paul ripped off a smaller piece of duct tape and moved to put it over my mouth, his hand shaking. Ian motioned him to stop.

"What are you doing with the probes?" I asked, seeing Ian liked to talk about what he was doing. The longer I kept the tape off my mouth, the better for all of us.

"Seeing into your mind," Ian said, motioning to Rhonda who had the probes hooked up to a machine that was connected to a laptop computer. "And we are doing little experiments."

Rhonda pressed a b.u.t.ton on the machine and Ferris yelped, eyes wide.

"What was that?"

"Denton Ferris got a little shock," Ian explained, eerily calm. Ick. He nodded to Rhonda. "You'd better adjust that. We don't want such a strong reaction."

"Shock therapy?"

Ian shook his head.

"What is your purpose then?"

"We are trying to determine if stimulating different centers in the brain can change one's play."

"Are you trying to run a scam in Vegas?"

Ian laughed and it chilled me to the bone. "I hadn't considered that, actually. Paul, of course, did, which is why he's here. It's funny that it occurred to you too. I'll have to add that to my research. Perhaps your goody-two-shoes gambler's mind isn't as different as Paul's addicted, desperate one."