Read Online Hold ’Em Hostage by Jackie Chance - Free Book Online Page A

into the tournament yet.
    I had flirted with the idea of calling Shana looking for Ben, but hadn’t wanted to worry her. I decided to call Ingrid instead.
    â€œYou look so bad ,” Ingrid exclaimed.
    â€œI know,” I snapped. “Only, how do you know?”
    â€œThey have the TV turned on in the poker room here. I see you’re popular with the religious right.”
    â€œThey are more like the religious wrong if you ask me, but I suppose they are well-meaning.” I sighed. As stressed as I was over Affie’s disappearance, the last thing I wanted and needed right now was the pressure of media attention. I wasn’t sure how I would focus on the tournament. “If you thought I would look so bad, why did you choose this getup?”
    â€œI meant baaaaad, like hot, like awesome, rad, cool.”
    â€œEnough. I get it. I just don’t agree,” I muttered. Ingrid was a runaway train when she got started with something. The more I’d argue, the more it would stoke her engines. I changed the subject. “How is Shana?”
    â€œShe’s okay. She started off very distracted but since the game got going, she’s down to checking her phone only every thirty seconds instead of every five. She told me at the last break that the guy sitting next to her was unduly interested in your encounter with the good reverend. She wants to get him to open up about why. I’ve seen her chatting him up.”
    â€œHave either of you heard from Ben?”
    â€œBen? I thought he was with you!”
    Uh-oh. I hoped Ingrid wouldn’t squeal to Frank. “Well, I don’t see him right now, and I’m curious about he and Shana being in each other’s back pockets. It disturbs me on many levels.”
    â€œStop trying to control your brother’s life, Bee,” Ingrid advised.
    â€œActually I’m trying to control my own since I know I will be caught in the middle of whatever debacle my brother creates here. There’s no winning if these two get involved.”
    â€œYou don’t think your brother is so low he’d take advantage of Shana when she is this vulnerable, do you?”
    The silence spoke volumes. We both knew Ben was capable of that, even if not in a malicious way. “Forget I asked that,” she added quickly.
    The tap on my shoulder made me jump. I’d stepped into a dark alcove to dial Ingrid and now felt trapped. Spinning around I looked down at a twentysomething guy with longish brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been washed in days, wearing a wrinkled and coffee-stained button-down and jeans, holding an open tablet and a voice recorder. Perhaps worse than Dragsnashark, it was a reporter. Print if his appearance was any indication.
    â€œGotta go,” I told Ingrid, hanging up on her protest.
    â€œI’m sorry to bother you, Bee Cool,” the pip-squeak said, flapping the press credential around his neck at me that claimed he was from the Las Vegas Tribune. “But I’m looking for your reaction.”
    â€œAmerica is the cornerstone of religious freedom in the world. Aren’t we fortunate to host a forum for everyone’s beliefs?”
    He drew his eyebrows together. “But what does that have to do with murder?”
    â€œMurder?” I parroted. Oops, I’d almost forgotten my poor swimming companion.
    â€œClark County brought you in for questioning in the overnight murder of a man found floating in the Image lagoon.”
    Stupid cops leaked it. Probably Trankosky. Probably on purpose. I wanted to wrap my fingers around the reporter’s pencil neck and get him to confess who ratted me out, but I decided that might reflect some guilt on my part. Best to play ignorant. I flashed my incisors and hoped it passed for a smile. “I happened to be in the vicinity of the man’s unfortunate demise and was questioned as a matter of routine, I’m sure.”
    â€œThat’s not what I