Betting on Hope

Chapter 25



Hope sang along with the radio the whole way home. She belted out rock and roll tunes, harmonizing with the melodies and pounding out the beat on the steering wheel. She felt high with adrenaline. She couldn’t help it and didn’t want to stop it. She felt great.

Because of Tanner.

When she walked into the kitchen, Faith knew that something had happened.

“Have a good day?” she asked, smiling at her sister.

Hope felt her face stretch from her smile.

“I’m on a winning streak,” she said.

They ate dinner and Hope sang to the radio while she washed the dishes, her hips swinging to the music. Suzanne two-stepped around her as she dried and put away, and Squeegee howled, making Amber and Faith laugh. Then before she drove back to Vegas to play in Big Julie’s nine o’clock card game, Hope lay on her bed and studied the crib sheets Marty had given her. The players’ bios were remarkably thorough, describing each poker player she’d be most likely to meet in tonight’s game.

But her mind wandered to Tanner. What he’d said, what he’d looked like. How he’d made her feel.

Well exercised, for one thing.

Stop that! That part had been good, no, okay, great, in fact, wonderful, but sex wasn’t everything.

Lighthearted. That was maybe the best part. She felt carefree. Happy.

And he’d paid attention—to what she said, what she wanted. What she liked.

And he’d helped her. With her game. The hat. Bringing Troy to the hospital for Amber. Calling his friend Jack Sievers for Faith.

Not to mention, making her feel really, really—

Stop that! She was worse than a kid with her first crush. She needed to focus. Everything she’d done all week was for nothing if she didn’t win tonight. And winning meant not just defeating Big Julie, but all the other players who’d be there. None of them probably were top-notch players, but they’d all be able to beat her if she didn’t pay attention.

She rustled the papers, trying to put Tanner out of her mind. All right. Bucky Newhouse. According to Marty, Bucky played conservatively. His face sweated under pressure. When he was confident, he pushed up his glasses. Hope looked at his picture. His face was fleshy and red. He looked like he needed to get his blood pressure checked.

Hope turned to the next page. Alejandro Vargas. Very cool player, Marty said, until he started to lose. Then he played every hand fast and recklessly. Alejandro and Derek, two of a kind, Hope thought.

She went through the pages of all the known players, memorizing them until she could remember them flawlessly.

And then it was time to go.

Hope stood up, leaving the pages on her bed, tucking her keys, wallet, and sunglasses into her purse, and picking up her hat. Just one more thing to do.

“Wish me luck,” she said to her family as they lounged in the den watching a movie. She watched them from the doorway. If I win—when I win tonight—I’ll be able to watch movies on Saturday night, too, she promised herself. Then everything will be worth it.

Faith stood up and went to give her sister a hug.

“Good luck,” she said. “You look fantastic. You’ll kill them.”

“Thanks,” Hope said. She glanced down at her new red halter dress, clingy and slinky. If it distracted the men tonight, so much the better. “I don’t need to kill them, though, except metaphorically.”

“That works.” Faith grinned and plopped back down on the sofa.

“You look slammin’, Aunt Hope!” Amber said. “Say hi to Tanner.”

Hope blushed. “Slammin’? Ah, thank you, Sweetie, but I won’t be seeing Tanner tonight,” she said.

“Break a leg,” Suzanne said, grinning. “And have fun.”

“Don’t wait up,” Hope said. “I’ll be late.” She didn’t think she could have fun tonight. This afternoon with Tanner—that had been fun. But tonight was about work. Tonight if she wanted to win the ranch back from Big Julie, she had to play her best game.



Tanner whistled as he finished dressing, tucking his wallet into his pocket and putting on his watch. He glanced in the mirror over his dresser to see Troy watching him from the doorway.

“Off again?” she asked, digging her toe into the carpet and sighing.

Tanner grinned. He’d miss Troy when she went off to UCLA next week, no question. But he’d be glad when she was gone, too, for several reasons, one of which was her over-the-top Abandoned Child gambit when she wanted something.

“The FBI set me up in a game tonight at the Desert Dunes,” he said. “Remember? I told you. They want me to help nab a Mob boss.”

Troy nodded, straightening up and looking troubled. “Will there be guns?”

“No way,” Tanner said, giving his daughter a hug. “The Mob boss certainly won’t want any. The FBI says we’ll all be frisked on the way in. They’re taking precautions. Don’t worry.”

“Be careful, Daddy, okay?” Troy looked like a kid again, a little unsure. Tanner watched her. Sometimes she was anxious about him, afraid that he, like her mother, would disappear without warning. Troy didn’t like it when he consulted for the FBI. She was afraid the agency would get him killed. And this time—Tanner had to agree—the agency might. But he had to cooperate with Frelly whenever the agent demanded. If he refused, he’d go to prison.

Nineteen years and four months into his servitude to the FBI, and now it was almost over. Only eight more months, and then he’d be done. His probation would be over, and he’d be free of the FBI and Agent Roy Frelly forever.

“I’m always careful, sweetheart. I probably won’t be home till very late, though. Do you want to invite Lizbeth to come over?”

Troy brightened. “Could we order out for pizza?”

“Sure. But no boys. Not unless Lizbeth’s parents come over for pizza, too.”

“Oh, Daddy. As if I don’t know the rules by now. You know, I’m going to college in two days.” Troy turned and flounced down the hallway.

“And no boys then, either, unless a parent is present,” Tanner called after her. He grinned as he watched her go. Then she turned around.

“So where were you this afternoon? You didn’t call. Have you been out yet with that woman you like? Hope? She seems nice.”

Tanner’s mind boggled. Why couldn’t Troy have gone to college yesterday? How did women figure this stuff out? It was like they had some kind of secret code.

“As a matter of fact, we went for a hike this afternoon,” he said.

“Ha! I knew it,” Troy said, grinning broadly. “Whistling, a dead giveaway. You must have had fun. I liked her at the hospital.”

“I’m officially uncomfortable now,” Tanner said.

Troy laughed. “I’m ordering the vegetarian special, extra large. I’ll leave you a slice.”

Tanner picked up his keys, shaking his head. Women. He’d never figure them out.

But it sure was fun to try.



When he got to the casino, he went straight to the security office, where he met Lee Gauger and the lovely Darla. Agent Roy Frelly was absent.

“Where’s Frelly?” Tanner asked.

“He went to get some aspirin,” Gauger told him. “He’s been on light duty since he was attacked and injured during an apprehension attempt here at the casino.”

“Right, I heard about that,” Tanner said. “He got bopped by a beet, right? How’s he doing?”

Gauger shrugged. “He’ll be fine.”

“The crooks got away, didn’t they?” Tanner asked. “Did you ever figure out who that was?”

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” Gauger said stiffly.

“Gotcha,” Tanner said. “Well, you can’t be too careful out there. If someone isn’t slinging beets at you, they’re slinging rutabagas. It gets dangerous.”

“Shall we get down to business?” Darla asked. Her voice was frosty.

“By all means,” Tanner said. “What have you got for me?”

The agents showed him the small camera installed in the pen they wanted him to use.

“It’s got a mike and a camera,” Gauger said. “So you gotta keep this piece exposed.”

“It clips to your pocket,” Darla said, showing him. When she had the pen securely fastened, she patted his chest.

“There you go,” she said.

“Sorry, Darla, really,” Tanner said, removing her hand. “I’m involved.”

“Since when?” Darla asked.

“Since you asked. Now—what if they take this pen away from me at the door? I assume I’ll be frisked.”

“We’re prepared for that.” The frost was back in Darla’s voice.

“Don’t be mad,” Tanner said. “There was never a way we were going to work. I don’t date law enforcement. It’s my only rule.”

“Card players have no rules.”

“We do,” Tanner said. “You’d be surprised.”

“As far as we know, you’ll be frisked,” Gauger said, raising his voice and glaring at Darla. “Don’t worry. We got lots of options here.” He handed Tanner a briefcase.

“Camera in there,” he said. “See? Here’s the eye. Put the briefcase facing this way out. It’ll pick up everything.”

“What if they open it?”

“They won’t see anything.” Gauger opened the briefcase to show him. The case looked empty except for a cell phone.

“Here.” Gauger handed it to him. “Camera in here, too.”

Tanner pocketed the phone. “You guys think of everything.”

“We got a baggie full of button models taped to the toilet tank cover,” Gauger said. “You take a leak when you get there. Then you try to stash the cameras around the apartment. If you can. They’re teeny, but don’t get caught. The manager says there’s plants all over the place. Stick some in those.”

“It’s more important that you stay in the game than get all these cameras to work,” Frelly said, coming through the door and holding a small paper bag. “One or two should be enough.” He had a big, purple bruise on his forehead as well as a black eye. The beet brigade had done a good job.

“Okay,” Tanner said, when he understood how to operate all the models. “You’re monitoring these from someplace, right?”

“Right. Us and the state guys and the IRS. We got maybe thirty, forty guys on the detail.”

Tanner’s jaw dropped. “You have all those cops here, tonight? Tell me again why you need me?”

Frelly sighed. “Big Julie plays a high stakes poker game every Saturday night by invitation only. So we got him already on operating a gambling establishment without a license. So that’s like, the starter crime. Then, depending, the penalties escalate. Like the stakes. If the stakes top five G’s, which is the part we ain’t sure about, he’s supposed to withhold taxes, which we know he ain’t, because he’s supposed to have a license, which we know he don’t. So do what you can to keep the pots high, that adds to what he ain’t paying to the IRS.”

“That’s an important point,” Gauger said, interrupting. “We can’t make a case if we don’t show that Big Julie is playing for huge dollar sums. So if those guys want to bet their Rolexes or boats or girlfriends—whatever they want to put in the pot—you up the ante. We got you covered.”

Felly nodded. “When the state guys and the IRS says we got enough, we come through the door. And then Big Julie goes to the big house for a long, long time.”

“Fine,” Tanner said, feeling almost sorry for Big Julie. He picked up the briefcase and headed for the door. “Let’s play poker.”



Hope got to the Desert Dunes just before nine o’clock, right on time. Her hands were damp and her arms had goose bumps as she punched the elevator button for the sixteenth floor at the Desert Dunes. Adrenalin, okay—fear, not okay, she reminded herself for the millionth time as the elevator ascended and glided silently to a stop in the empty hallway.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door of suite sixteen-oh-one, which Drake opened immediately.

“If it isn’t the shopper,” he said, grinning appreciatively at the red halter dress. “And look if all that spending hasn’t paid off. Sorry, sweetheart, but I gotta search you.”

“For what?” Hope asked, annoyed. “What do think I could possibly hide in this dress?”

“Something good, that’s for sure,” Drake said. He swiftly disarmed her of her purse, and opening it, checked its contents, divesting her of her two hundred thousand dollar stake. Then he patted her down.

“These games became a lot more fun since Big Julie started inviting women,” Drake told her, brushing down her skirt after he’d felt between her legs.

“Don’t count on seeing me again,” Hope said, flustered and irritated.

“Damn,” Drake said. “And I was just thinking about asking you out.”

Hope entered the suite she already knew well from her visits with Baby. Big Julie was at the kitchen counter, mixing himself a drink, and she went over to say hello.

“So you won your stake,” the mobster said as she approached him. “All’s I was hearing in the casino this week was about a lucky streak this dame was on. Her and Marty the Sneak, burning up the tables.”

“That was us,” Hope smiled back, “but it wasn’t all luck. And now I plan to win that ranch back from you.”

Big Julie laughed. “We’ll see. Meet Bucky here.”

Hope had already recognized Bucky Newhouse, the conservative player with high blood pressure. They shook hands.

“Help yourself to a drink, something to eat,” Big Julie said, waving his hand expansively to the buffet table. “Everybody else is in the living room. We’re just waiting for one more. New guy.”

Hope nodded, poured herself a mineral water, and headed into the living room to meet the other players and see how Marty’s bios matched the real characters. Fifteen minutes later she’d been introduced to everyone. In the middle of a conversation with Bobby Stackhouse (weak player, bluffs too much), she heard a slight commotion at the door.

The last player. The unknown one.

She turned back to Stackhouse to finish the conversation, when she heard a rumble of voices coming toward the living room. Big Julie led the way in.

“Everybody,” he said. “Meet our new player this week. Make him welcome, because we don’t want him to feel bad when we fleece him.”

The other players laughed and waved. Hope glanced toward the door.

“Tanner Wingate,” Big Julie said.



From across the room, Tanner’s stomach pitched to the floor. He couldn’t believe what he saw. What the hell was Hope doing here? Hope, in a drop-dead red dress, as pale as a sheet, staring at him with dark, horrified eyes. This is why she wanted that big stake? To play Big Julie Saladino?

His shock and dismay were tinged with fury, but he smiled as the other players stepped forward to shake hands. He’d spent a week refining this woman’s card game so she could play with a mobster? Was she Mob, too? Or Mob wannabe? She and Baby were going to become Big Julie’s top lieutenants now? What the hell was wrong with her? Didn’t she realize how much trouble she could get into? She could get caught up in the FBI sweep tonight.

Why the hell was she here?

One by one, the other players stepped up. Bucky Newhouse, Alejandro Vargas, Sandy Schraf, Peter Wong, Mark Ladick—he remembered that one, the peanut allergy. Then the one who’d been talking to Hope—Bobby Stackhouse. Then finally, Hope stepped forward.

“We’ve met,” he said to Big Julie when he started the introduction. “What brings you to the game tonight, Hope?”

“Necessity,” she said. Her voice sounded calm, but she was still pale. “You?”

“The same.”

“Yeah, yeah, everybody’s gotta play cards. Come on, let’s sit down, get the game going,” Big Julie said, urging them both toward the table.

“Excuse me, Julie, I gotta use the head first,” Tanner said. I have to get those cameras in the toilet tank. And think for a minute.

“Sure, sure,” Big Julie said. “Down the hall.”

“I’ll go with you,” Hope said.

“What?” Big Julie asked just as Tanner said “Good.”

“I need the restroom, too,” Hope said, steel in her voice.

“It’s a one-holer,” Big Julie said. “You can use the can in the bedroom.”

“I’ll just wait for Tanner,” Hope said.

“Suit yourself.” Big Julie turned and joined the other players at the table. Hope and Tanner walked down the hallway.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he whispered, trying not to sound as angry as he felt.

“I’m trying to win the ranch back.” She sounded as angry as he felt. “Derek lost it to Big Julie in a card game. Big Julie said he’d let me try to win it tonight before he sells it. That’s why the uncles came out here. To improve my game. I told you. What are you doing here?”

Tanner stopped in the hallway and ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“The ranch is at stake? You’re getting kicked off the ranch? You didn’t tell me. Nobody told me. Jesus, are you kidding?”

Hope’s eyes snapped. “Do I look like I’m kidding? Why else would I be here? I met with Big Julie last week, and he said if I earned the stake, he’d put the ranch on the table. Why are you here? Do you always play with gangsters?”

“Not usually,” Tanner said. “Tonight’s a big deal. I—”

“Everything all right down there?” Big Julie called out. “You two can’t find the can, or what?”

“We’re good, Julie,” Tanner called back. “I’m just trying to persuade Hope here that ladies always go first.”

“The cards is getting cold out here.”

“Be right with you.” Tanner opened the bathroom door and motioned Hope inside.

“Listen,” Hope said when Tanner had shut the door behind them. Her voice sounded desperate. “I have a decent shot at winning this if you’re not at the table. Can’t you play Big Julie next week? I have to win the ranch tonight. Big Julie already has a buyer. They offered two million. The money’s in escrow. The title’s being transferred. The buyers are putting a destination resort on our land. We’ll lose everything. I have one chance to get the ranch back, Tanner, and it’s tonight.”

Tanner felt numb.

“Hope, I can’t,” he said. Hope stared at him, and he watched as the light dimmed in her eyes. “I have to play so that the winnings—”

“I don’t care about the winnings,” she said. “You can have everything else. Just let me win the ranch.”

“I can’t,” he repeated. “I have to—”

“Just the ranch,” she pleaded. “Then I’ll leave the game, and you can clean up the cash. You don’t want the ranch, either.”

“I can’t let you win,” Tanner said, not wanting to look at her eyes anymore. “If I could swing the ranch to you, Hope, I would, but I can’t. Everything is set up so that—”

Hope turned her head. “That’s why you were practicing that card trick that day at the bar,” she said. Her voice sounded harsh and bitter. “I should have known then that no good would come from playing with you.”

“Hope, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll—”

“You can’t make it up to me, Tanner. If I don’t win tonight, the ranch is sold. Then everything is gone.” She shook her head, anger and resignation in the gesture. “If I had a buck for every time a card player ripped me off and said he was sorry, I’d own that damn ranch by now. I knew you were bad news, just like Derek. Card players. I can’t believe I let myself fall for your line.”

“Hey,” Tanner said, startled at her vehemence. “I didn’t rip you off. If you’d told me—”

“If I’d told you, everything would still be the same. You’d still be in this game, telling me that you can’t let me win the ranch and you can’t play Big Julie next week instead. If you think you didn’t rip me off, come out next week when we’re packing up, and ask Faith and Amber and my mom how they feel. See what they say.”

She flung open the door and went back to the living room.

Tanner stared after her, feeling angry, but sick, too. She was wrong. He hadn’t ripped her off. He just hadn’t known. His anger simmered with the false accusations she’d thrown at his head.

But she was right about one thing. She would lose the ranch tonight.

She had to, or he’d go to prison. And he wasn’t going to prison.

He’d make it up to her later. Somehow. But in the meantime, he still had work to do.

He lifted off the toilet tank cover, ripped off the baggie taped there, and stuffed the contents into his pocket. Then, he too, rejoined the players in the living room.

“Jesus, took you long enough,” Big Julie said. “I coulda lent you some Metamucil, you need that crap.”

Tanner, his heart pounding, tried to act natural as he refilled his glass and then stopped at the ficus plant, pretending to feel its leaves while he attached a button model camera to a branch, before he returned to the table.

“I’m fine, Julie,” Tanner said as he sat down. “Sorry. Hope and I were catching up on old times.” He glanced at Hope, but she kept her eyes on the table. Fine. She could be that way.

“Let’s go, then. I start the deal,” Big Julie said.



Hope jerked her head up at Big Julie’s words.

“There’s no dealer?” she asked. Card games without dealers were more susceptible to cheats. She didn’t want to suspect Tanner before the game had even begun, but she had seen him practicing card tricks almost a week ago. And he was so positive that she’d lose.

“Who needs a dealer? It’s just a little card game among friends,” Big Julie said. He sat down and picked up a pack of new cards, broke the seal, and started to shuffle. Drake passed out equal chip stacks to all the players.

Big Julie slapped the deck down on the table in front of Sandy Schraf, who sat on his right.

“Cut,” he said.

The game started.

Hope kept her eyes glued to the table as she watched the deal go around and tried to control her emotions. Anger, disappointment, helplessness, and fear—none of it would do her any good right now. All those feelings would just cloud her judgment in the game. If she was to have a prayer of winning against Tanner, she had to keep a clear head.

Maybe her situation wasn’t hopeless. Just because Tanner knew how to cheat didn’t mean that he would. He might play an honest game tonight because otherwise she might give him up to the other players. Big Julie was no wimp. He’d throw Tanner out of the game—or worse—if he caught him cheating.

And even if Tanner did cheat, she was prepared. She could play to counteract it.

Tanner was no doubt a far more experienced player than she was, but she still had a chance. Skilled players won, but even skilled players got bad cards and bad breaks. Books were written about excellent players who had losing sessions, losing streaks. Players who lost their nerve.

She glanced Tanner. He didn’t look like he’d lose his nerve.

She’d have to play her very best—better than she’d played all week—and she’d have to have luck, too, if she was to win. If she waited for the right cards and played them aggressively, like Marty—and Tanner—had told her all week, she could win.

Tanner was a professional poker player and a known card cheat, but she’d won two hundred fifty thousand dollars in one week. And even professional poker players and known card cheats had to respect that.