Hauck ate by himself in the trendy Italian café, then stopped at the bar situated underneath an enormous lava rock formation outside the entrance to the casino. At a nearby table, two young couples who had clearly been having a few were cheering on a Knicks game on the overhead TV.
Hauck ordered a Booker’s bourbon before heading up to his room.
His blood was still heated from his meeting with Raines and the bourbon dulled his rancor. Raines’s smirk and the implication that what had happened to Sanger and Kramer was simply the way the “myriad interests” here dealt with their dirty laundry didn’t sit well with him. That Hauck was dealing with forces much larger than he could confront. The consortiums that ran the place. The tribe. The state.
Law enforcement… It would be difficult, he knew—more than difficult, maybe impossible—to tie Raines or the casino to Vega or DR-17. He could subpoena the tape Raines had shown him. One of many, he had said. He could look for Raines’s number on Vega’s cell phone.
But these people weren’t exactly stupid.
He knew he would be pissing a lot of people off. Important people. People in government. Not to mention Wendy Sanger. What he would do to her husband’s reputation if he were to push this through.
What kind of man would risk all that? he’d asked Raines, and the security man had asked him back, I don’t know. What kind of man are you, Lieutenant?
Hauck downed his bourbon, his attention shifting to the screen, where the Knicks were stumbling to another defeat in the final minutes.
He felt someone touch his arm.
He turned. It was Josie. The pretty dealer. No longer in uniform, but wearing a loose green halter top and a dangling chain around her neck, a pair of tight-fitting jeans. Which showed off the tantalizingly nice figure Hauck had suspected was there. Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail with bangs falling loosely over the sides of her face. Two gold hoops in her left ear.
“Heading to the library?” Hauck grinned.
“Not tonight,” she said. “Semester break.” Her round eyes shone with some amusement. “My shift’s over. Four to ten. Kills me. Sometimes Steve here spots me a rum and coke before I head out. I saw you sitting here…”
Hauck shifted over. “Sit down.”
“Sure…” Josie slipped in next to him. She nodded to the guy in the bolo tie behind the bar, who brought her her “usual.” Hauck ordered one last nightcap as well. He noted a scent on her he found really appealing.
“To higher education,” Hauck said, and tilted his drink.
“To financial aid.” She laughed, clinking his glass. She took a sip. “I don’t think I have to say how incredibly nice that was of you. It probably doesn’t come as a surprise that I don’t regularly get three-thousand-dollar tips on the job.”
“It was his money,” Hauck said. “Your charming boss.”
“Not my boss,” Josie was quick to say.
“Let’s just leave it that I think you earned it a bit more than me. Pretty nifty hands…Somehow I think you didn’t exactly learn that in college. What are you studying, anyway?”
“Sociology.”
“Sociology!” Hauck laughed. “Well, you’ve got quite a good little laboratory going for yourself here.”
“Six hours a day…” She shook her head and took a sip of her drink, her large brown eyes staying on him.
“So did you know him?” Hauck asked, taking a chance.
“Who?”
“The guy who worked here, who was killed. Keith Kramer?”
“Oh, that was horrible,” Josie said. “Sure. Everyone knew Keith. He worked my tables from time to time. A good guy. Smart. Funny. I think he was educated. Not the normal kind of guy you find around here. Always backed up my counts, never hassled me or gave me any trouble.”
“There’s a story going around he might have been trying to cheat the house.”
“Keith? If there is, it’s gone around me…So that’s what you’re up here for? Keith? Mr. Raines called you ‘lieutenant.’ You’re a cop, right?”
“I was a cop. I’m the head of detectives now. In Greenwich.”
“I was thinking you might have been FBI or something. But Feds are always married. That’s a rule, you know. And I don’t see a ring.”
Hauck reminded himself that he was on business up here, and a part of him was thinking maybe he should cut this conversation short and head back tonight, to avoid any complications.
Another part was enjoying hanging out with this pretty young thing.
“Divorced,” he said. They were straying a bit from false shuffles and Keith Kramer. “And almost twice your age…”
“No chance,” Josie said, sizing him up. “Anyway, you know what they say about age…Only matters when it comes to wine and cheese.”
Hauck laughed. “And right now I’m feeling a little more like an old Barolo than a Beaujolais…I think I’m going to head upstairs.” He signaled the bartender for the check.
Josie shrugged. “Your call.” There was a gleam in her eye. He felt her brush next to his arm. A charge of energy ran through him. He couldn’t help it. When she leaned closer, Hauck caught an intriguing view of what was underneath. And it was nice. “Sure?”
“Never sure.” Hauck sighed with a smile. He stood up and tossed a few bills on the counter to cover both drinks. “Just steady…You make sure you put those funds to good use.”