Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I curse as the man wins again. He isn’t taking a huge amount of winnings and we can easily foot this kind of loss, but it annoys me because I can’t for the life of me work out what he’s doing. I can spot a card counter at a hundred paces. I’ve seen countless devices that cause havoc on the slot machines, but the craps table is the hardest one to cheat on.
I know of only two ways to rig the odds at a craps table. Either have the box person involved in your scam and have them use weighted dice, or attach magnets beneath the table that affect the dice. I know neither of those are happening here. Sasha has worked here almost as long as I have. She was one of my first hires and not only is she loyal, but she’s also adept at spotting and reporting scams. And magnets would have sent an alarm signal to my office the second the man entered the casino, so even assuming he had managed to get them in place, I’d have known about them.
“What do you think?” Stewart asks me.
“I think our friend there has found a new way to rig the game, but I’m screwed if I can work out what the hell it is,” I say, shaking my head. “Come on. I think it’s time he met the manager.”
I grab my keys off my desk and Stewart and I leave my office. I lock the door and we head down the corridor. I have no idea how I can prove the man is cheating, but maybe up close and personal I’ll spot something. Even if I can’t prove it, this situation still needs dealing with.
If a person is winning too much I tend to discreetly convince them to try another game, or move to a table with lower stakes. That way if they are genuinely on a lucky roll, there is a chance their luck will run out. Naturally if they are cheating they are shown the door and banned for life.
Stewart and I step out of the elevator and walk along the short corridor to the casino floor. I pause for a second before we go through the door. I run my hands through my straight blonde hair to make sure my hair is in place, then I smooth down my slim-fitted black skirt.
“You’re going out there to ban a cheater, not go on a date, Cindy,” Stewart mocks.
I laugh, knowing he’ll never understand what I’m doing. Looking poised and in control is a part of my thing. I have to always look calm and unflappable, and messy hair and a creased skirt just don’t give that impression.
I push my way through the doors and I am instantly assaulted by noise and activity. Although it is still early, The Macau is already busy. There are people everywhere and all the slot machines are taken up. Their whirling reels and bursts of music as they spin fill the air. Even the more obscure table games are full to capacity. Waiters and waitresses move around the floor with drinks trays. Stewart and I quickly make our way towards the craps table. A cheer comes from the direction we are heading. It sounds like mystery man has done it again.
Subtlety is going to be the key here.
I begin to make my way through the thick crowd gathered around the table.
“Excuse me. Excuse me,” I hear myself saying over and over again.
Most people move aside easily at my request, but some, not realizing I work here and thinking I just want the best viewpoint for the game, give me dirty looks. I finally clear the throng and come out beside Sasha and opposite the mystery man which was my exact aim.
Mystery man has his head down, looking at his chips. I take a second to study him while he is unaware of my regard. He looks even bigger in person, and has a full head of shiny black hair. From what I can see of his forehead, I would guess he is in his early thirties. I was definitely right about him being from money. He has that casual confidence that only seems to come from having insane amounts of money.
Which begs the question of why anyone that loaded would risk getting caught cheating a casino out of what is essentially small change.
He must have felt my eyes on him because he looks up and straight at me.
Dangerous!
That is the first thought that flies into my head. The air of danger is all around him. From the unyielding jaw line, to the chiseled cheek bones, to the scar above his left eyebrow. There is a hint of a tattoo creeping out of the collar of his shirt and meeting the raven-black hair … and those stormy gray-blue eyes … they send shivers through my body.