Murder by Chance (Betty Chance Mystery)

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honestly. “Not just me, but to our employees as well. Everyone’s concerned about the effect it will have on business. Even when a ninety-nine-year-old dies in their sleep in one of our hotel rooms, it makes the papers. A drop in business always follows, at least for a couple of days.”
    “Well, I would have to think that someone winning thirteen million is bound to help the casino. That big of a jackpot will receive nationwide publicity.”
    Tom said, “The progressive win is my other problem. The news about it could turn out to be bad. There’s something not right about that win.”
    She understood his anguish. A suspicious win could be just the spoiled icing on the cake the casino didn’t need. Like any gaming establishment, Moose Bay wouldn’t pay a large sum of money until the win was validated. If the win turned out to be a malfunction or—high-tech robbery—not a penny would change hands.
    “Of course, the winner’s already threatened us with a lawsuit,” he said.
    Betty grabbed the black carafe and refilled both of their cups with coffee. It was going to be a very long day. She asked, “What do you think happened—a malfunction? Did someone hack into the system?”
    “No idea. It’s just … something’s off.” Songbird slowly scratched his head. “The win registered but the system’s microchip set off a warning at the same time. That’s very odd.”
    The suspected tampering wasn’t good news, especially if other players found out about Moose Bay’s hesitation to hand over a check. Gamblers wouldn’t care about the legalities of the win. The only thing they’d remember was that Moose Bay refused to pay.
    Betty stirred a stream of cream into her cup and asked, “Have you let the press know what’s going on?”
    “Not yet,” Songbird replies, “not until we can say one way or the other what we’re going to do.”
    “You can bet the alleged winner will definitely let them now,” Betty said before advising, “It will look better if it came from you first.”
    Songbird nodded his head in agreement. “We have our guys working on it, as well as at the other end, in Nevada. We’ve notified the gaming company that developed the software to look into possible tampering.”
    He fiddled nervously with his watch and continued, “And if it gets out, every wise-guy with a computer will decide they can figure out a way to cheat Moose Bay out of millions. Eventually, one of them will.”
    Betty nodded. One bad act usually led to another. “Speaking of news, either good or bad. I haven’t seen any media types poking around.” If the crime had occurred in Chicago, Betty knew dozens of camera crews would be following their every move by now.
    Tom said, “Oh they’re here, all right. They started arriving twenty minutes after the I-Reporter put it on You Tube. Since it’s tribal land. I can keep them from coming onto the casino’s campus. But half a dozen news trucks are currently parked outside the entrance, which is off reservation.”
    It crossed Betty’s mind that the two incidences—the homicide and an alleged mega jackpot malfunction—might be connected. Having two major crimes linked to the same place, and occurring in such a short time span, could hardly be considered coincidental.
    “Did you tell Severson’s there’s something’s wrong with the progressive win?” Betty asked.
    Tom shook his head. “No, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. Let’s keep him focused on Farsi’s death until I have more facts.”
    The subject seemed to be finished for the moment, so Betty asked a question about which she’d been very curious. “How did Severson become the town sheriff at such a young age?”
    “The same way everything is done in this town—connections. His father was the sheriff before him. His dad was killed by a sixteen year-old punk during an attempted robbery at a convenience store.”
    “That’s horrible,” Betty responded. Her heart ached every

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