Page 2 of The Scarab's Game

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Page 2 of The Scarab's Game

“I’ll try it out after this hand. Which means it’s time to up my wager.” I tossed five hundred on the Ante and Blind, adding two for Trips.

“Has anyone ever told you,” said Drew over the earpiece, “your team spends money too quickly?”

Scarlett hummed aloud. “Whatever works. And I think you meanourteam?”

“Every hundred spent is a hundred lesswecan use to get the scarab.” Whether Drew aimed that at me for gambling or Scarlett for the bribe, I couldn’t quite tell. He was right, in part, but first, we had to find the scarab.

The ancient Egyptian jewel had been stolen from a museum in Cairo. Our job was to recover it, and our intel said Massimo De Rosa had it.

The dealer spread out the river, face down, and handed out the hole cards. That gave me a nine and a jack, both clubs. If my luck was back, this was a good start. If it wasn’t, I’d thrown my money away. I raised four times the ante, as did the American I’d been speaking to, while everyone else checked.

Drew made his way through the room, stopping at the stand outside the restaurant. He spoke to the maître d’, who accepted his offer of two hundred euros to jump the reservation line.

The flop gave me two more clubs. Eight and queen. A tiny adrenaline spike hit me. I was heading for either a flush or queen high.

“Table will be ready in thirty,” said Drew. “The mark is being seated now.”

Scarlett said, “Drew, send me a photo of the unknown woman who came in with Massimo. We’ll run her through our databases and see if we can ID her.”

His gaze cut to me as he turned toward the entrance. “The son had eyes for her. I’m assuming date, with the hope of more.”

“In case she’s a factor in the job, send me the photo.”

“Will do,” said Drew as he disappeared.

Everyone at the table checked, based on the flop.

As the dealer flipped the final two cards, Scarlett gasped, “What the fuck is she doing there? She was supposed to be flying home from Nice today!”

My adrenaline lifted higher. My sister was always in control. She never lost her cool on a job. What was going on?

The cards were the five of diamonds and ten of clubs. I’d won on the Blind and Trips. It was a huge win, but it barely registered.

Don’t stand, Em. Don’t ask what’s wrong. Scarlett will tell you.

Everyone who was still in revealed their cards, and the Americans gave me a slow clap for my straight flush.

Scarlett must have been reacting to the photo Drew had sent. Who was the mystery woman?Talk to me, Scar.

“You know her?” asked Drew.

The man next to me slapped my arm, offering congratulations I didn’t quite catch.

“Thanks.” Distracted, waiting for Scarlett’s words, I began racking my winnings, a nervous energy building in my chest. What was causing it? Scarlett’s reaction? Or was I rattled closing out my first poker game in four months that didn’t end with a gun in my face?

I slid a tip to the dealer and stood, my left hand digging into my pocket before I could stop it. My fingers slid over the textured surface of the hidden poker chip I kept in that pocket every day. The hole pierced through its center. The blue surface. The white edge spots.

Calm down, Em. This is your happy place.

I nodded to the other players, then strolled to the cage, focused on appearing calm to anyone watching. The voices over my earpiece were hurried, keys clacking in the background.The team was furiously researching something. When I was far enough away from the table, I asked, “Scar, who’s the woman?”

My sister took in a slow breath, her normal self-control returning. “Jenn.”

My step stuttered, and I nearly lost my winnings. There was no way it wasthatJenn. “Not…”

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat. “Jenn Thatcher, my best friend.”

“Shit.” That was going to complicate things. Unless… “This is perfect. She’s our in with the mark.”




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