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I’m coming and I’ll get something to drink.”
    â€œAll right.”
    When Mia left, Clint walked over to the big fellow who’d taken his guns. The man was taking Clint’s gun belt to a narrow room guarded by more gunmen, who saw Clint coming right away. Clint held up his hands and approached the man he’d spoken to already.
    â€œIs anyone expecting trouble on this boat?” Clint asked.
    The big man shook his head and crossed his arms now that he’d passed off Clint’s gun belt. “It’s just like you said before. Gamblers tend to get cross when they play too long together. This is all just a precaution.”
    â€œWhose precaution?”
    â€œPardon me?”
    â€œWho’s running this tournament?”
    â€œJust have a seat and play some cards,” the big man said. “Leave the rest to us.”
    â€œSomeone may have stowed away,” Clint said. “And I don’t think it was just so he could sit in on a game.”
    That caused all the gunmen to straighten up and take notice. Their hands drifted toward their pistols, making Clint feel practically naked since his gun wasn’t even in his possession. There were alternatives to having a gun at his side, however. Otherwise, he never would have let the modified Colt out of his hands.
    â€œWhere’s the stowaway?” the big man asked.
    â€œI ran into someone down in the laundry,” Clint explained. “Ask the women down there and they’ll tell you all about it.”
    The big man who’d taken Clint’s gun glanced to one of the others nearby. That and a nod was all that was needed to get one of those men heading for the door. Turning back to Clint, the bigman said, “We’ll look into it. Anything else you want to tell us?”
    â€œJust that he’s dangerous and good with a knife.”
    â€œThank you. Good luck with your game.”
    Clint walked toward Mia’s table. Around so many strangers, he didn’t want to bring up what had happened, since the guards seemed to have things well in hand. Now Clint just needed to figure out why nobody had asked what the stowaway looked like or where he was headed.
    One possibility was that the guards were overly confident that they could find anyone who didn’t belong on the riverboat.
    Another possibility was that they already knew about the man with the knife. Either way, Clint decided to keep what he’d seen under his hat until he was talking to someone he knew he could trust. On a riverboat full of poker players, something like that might be a little hard to come by.

SEVENTEEN
    The ace of spades flipped around the man’s perfectly manicured fingers like a leaf that had caught a subtle breeze. It drifted in his grasp for a few seconds, landed in his palm and then was effortlessly tossed onto the table in front of him.
    A knock came from his door, rattling through the small cabin like a clap of thunder.
    â€œCome on in,” he said casually as his left hand drifted toward the gun secreted in his pocket.
    The door opened, and the skinny knife fighter hurried inside. His stringy hair clung to his face, and a grin was plastered upon his mouth. As soon as he was inside, he closed the door to a narrow crack and positioned himself so he could stare through the crack at the narrow hallway outside.
    â€œYou smell terrible, Dench,” the well-dressed man sitting at the table said. “Even worse than usual, and that’s saying a lot.”
    Without moving from his spot, Dench shook his head and spoke in a rasping whisper. “I had to spend some time in the laundry.”
    â€œThat explains the smell. It doesn’t explain why you’re so late.”
    â€œNot all of us got to walk on board like everyone else. You set up this fucking boat ride, Jack. How come I couldn’t just walk onto the damn boat like a human being?”
    The man sitting at the table froze in his spot. His hand had