Brad stared at him for a moment, a confused look on his face, then it cleared in understanding. "It was February fifth, a Saturday. I remember because it was my wife's birthday."

Jake did a quick mental calculation. "That was a little over two weeks ago."

Brad nodded. "Exactly how long has Mark missed his check-ins?"

"Including today? Forty-one days."

Brad looked at him, a grim expression on his face. "You've got a big problem, my man."

Jake thought of Janine, waiting in her townhome in Atlantic City with a five-year-old, praying that Jake brought her good news of her husband. "You have no idea." He clapped Brad on the back as he stepped from behind the table. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, there's a phone call I need to make."

Brad gave him a sympathetic nod as Jake pulled his cell phone from his pocket, walked across the casino and stepped out onto the balcony "Yeah," his captain said, picking up on the first ring.

"It's Jake. I'm afraid I've got a big problem here."

"It's the last damned day of that tournament, and you still don't have any money to test. Is that asshole Silas ever going to lose enough to buy in for more or was this whole thing a bust?"

If only it were that simple. "That's not exactly the problem I was talking about."

"Well, what the hell is it now?"

"Did you know that Mark worked as a cop in New Orleans before he joined the bureau?"

"I don't know. I guess I read it on his application. Why?"

"When we were building this case, why didn't you ever tell me that?"

"Hell, he probably had his tonsils out when he was a kid, too. I didn't tell you that, either. I'm not in the habit of going over my agents' resumes with their partners. It's your job to know the man you're working with."

"Well, apparently that man withheld information from the beginning. He told me he grew up on a farm in the Midwest and never once mentioned Louisiana or New Orleans. You got any idea why he would exclude that from his life story?"

There was a pause on the other end. "I honestly don't know. Maybe he didn't think it was relevant. Maybe he pulled something stupid working there and didn't want anyone looking too close. I don't get it, Jake. Where is all this going?"

"Somewhere you're not going to like." Jake took a breath and continued. "You know that ATF bust I told you about-the one going down during the tournament?"

"Yeah. Don't tell me you've fucked up their bust. I don't need any problems from the ATF, and I've already gotten more phone calls than I ever cared to take."

"No. Nothing like that. There's an ATF agent here, name of Brad, who met Mark when he was working in New Orleans. Brad made Mark when he was undercover working for Silas in one of the casinos in New Orleans. Mark filled him in so he wouldn't blow his cover."

"Okay. That's a random-chance sort of thing, but Mark did the right thing in telling the guy."

"Yeah. I thought so too-until Brad told me that happened just two weeks ago."

There was dead silence on the other end of the line for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Jake heard a sharp release of breath.

"Goddamn it!" his captain ranted. "I'm pulling you off this case as of now. You get your ass out of that casino. If Mark's turned, then Silas has known all along who you are.

"Maybe, but if it's as simple as Mark turning, then why was he locked in that apartment? It doesn't add up, Captain."

"Maybe he turned long enough for Silas to get what he needed, and then he was expendable. Maybe Silas only trusts him so far. I don't know and I don't care. The fact is, if Mark were free to roam a casino two weeks ago, having private conversations with the ATF, then he was also free to check in with the office as scheduled."

"Yeah, but it still feels like I'm missing something."

"Maybe the plan was to stage the kidnapping, make it look like Silas had taken Mark and held him captive. Maybe they thought they could release him afterward and Mark could step right back into his job at the bureau. At this point, it doesn't really matter. What I do know is that they're playing you, and it's not safe to remain at the tournament."

"I know that, but I can't leave. Silas may think he's got the upper hand, but his ego keeps him from having the control he thinks he does. This vendetta he has against St. Claire and his family goes back forever. I'm beginning to think this is a whole lot more than a simple money wash. I think Silas is trying to set up St. Claire to go down for the laundering, just like he did Jack Devereaux."

"All the more reason to get the hell out of there. If this is more personal than business, there's no way to know what Silas is capable of."

"If he wanted to kill me, he could have done so already. He's playing with me because he thinks he can win-his final parting shot at the FBI. I still think I can get an exchange. I only need the one."

"It's not worth the risk. We can regroup here and decide what to do next."

"What we can do next is nothing, and you know it. In a matter of days, Silas will be out of the country, probably taking Mark with him. We can't do a damned thing then."

"I don't care. It's likely I've already lost one agent. I don't want to lose another. Don't you make this personal, too."

"It is personal, Captain. And it's not just me who's affected by this. I've made promises to other people, and by God I'm going to see that I make every effort to make them happen. I'm sorry, but I can't leave until this is over."

"Even if it means leaving in a body bag?"

"If anything happens to me, get in touch with Brad Johnson at the ATE Maybe he can help fill in the blanks."

"At least let me send you backup. I can have men at the boat within a half hour."

"There's no time. The boat leaves the dock in a matter of minutes. The ATF bust is going down mid-afternoon, so I only have five hours or so to pull off an exchange. I'll call as soon as I get an exchange tested."

There was a pause on the other end and Jake heard the captain sigh. "All right then. I trust your instincts. I've got judge Warner standing by. If you can get an exchange, I'll have the warrant in place when we dock. I'd love to take this bastard down-now more than ever."

"Me too, sir."

"Do not attempt to apprehend Silas on your own. Wait until you dock."

"Yes, sir."

"And Randoll, I don't guess I have to tell you to watch your back."

Jake gave Mallory a brief nod as she approached the poker table while the players took their seats. "Last day, gentlemen," he said with a smile. "The ante goes up to five hundred a hand this morning and will increase again after lunch. Unless anyone wants to quit now."

The men chuckled, except Silas, who gave him a superior look, and Father Thomas, who lifted one hand in the air and said, "God bless this game of which we are about to partake."

Jake looked at the priest, still amused the old bird had held in this long. He probably wouldn't make it until noon today with the chips he had left, but he'd certainly given the words "functioning alcoholic" a whole new meaning. "Well, now that we've been officially blessed, what do you say we play some cards?" He reached for the decks of cards and began to shuffle.

Mallory removed her tablet from her pocket and began to take the morning orders, starting at the far end of the table first. He could feel her apprehension, thick in the air, as she moved closer and closer to the man who had ruined her life, but the resolve on her face was clear-this man was not going to win. What must she be thinking? What would he do in her position?

It was a question he didn't even want to think about answering because Jake was afraid that if he were Mallory those metal detectors wouldn't have kept him from bringing an instrument of death on board. She was serving the drinks, after all. A quick round of rat poison would do the trick and given Silas's reputation, the local police probably wouldn't even look too hard into his death, and Jake would be the last one to point out a discrepancy.

He watched Mallory take Silas's order with the same calm she'd dealt with the other players. This was one woman to be reckoned with. She would never sink to Silas's level and probably wouldn't appreciate Jake's aspersions of death by rat poison. She didn't want him dead. She wanted him in a living hell like he'd put her in. A prison cell for a man like Silas Hebert would be the ultimate in torture.

Mallory made it back with the drink server trailing behind her just as they were wrapping up the first hand. Luckily, his draw had been so bad that a blind monkey could have told him to fold, but that would all change now that Mallory was back to serve the drinks and spread her unluckiness along with them.

He'd tossed in his cards early and spent the rest of the hand watching the drunken priest make fools of everyone else with his four of a kind. He didn't even try to contain his disbelief when the man turned over his cards because no one else did, either.

The player on the far end clapped Father Thomas on the back and laughed. "I gotta hand it to you, Father," he said, "you've definitely made this God thing work for you. Maybe when I get back home I should attend a Mass or something. Think they'll let me in?"

Father Thomas looked at the man, a serious expression on his usually jovial face. "The prodigal son returns. Always been a favorite story of mine. Until he's eaten by the giant fish." He looked up at Mallory as she served his scotch amid everyone else's coffee. "What about you, Mallory? Do you have a favorite Bible story?"

Mallory thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Can't say that I do, but I'm sort of a fatalist. I like when the rider of death comes in Revelations." She gave them all a smile, then looked directly at Silas Hebert as she slid onto her stool. It was all Jake could do to hold in a smile. Here he'd worried that Mallory wouldn't be able to handle being so close to Silas, so close to the man who'd made her life into the mess it was, and she'd come up with both guns blazing.

He'd never respected a woman more than he respected her at that moment. She was tough and feminine all at the same time. Hard and softhearted. Beautiful and intelligent. She was everything he never thought a woman would be and something he knew he'd never find again.

He set his jaw and began to deal the next hand. He couldn't give Mallory the fairy-tale life she deserved, but by God, he could see that the man who ruined it was behind bars. It was the least he could do.

When the morning break rolled around, Silas Hebert slipped from the casino and into the lobby, pressing in a number on his cell phone as he walked.

"Silas," the man answered. "Where the hell are you? Don't tell me you're still playing."

"Of course I'm still playing. I have a chance to take Reginald St. Claire for a hunk of money. I'm not letting it pass me by. We're already down one player this morning. That dealer is having a lucky run at the moment, but we both know that will change. He's not the player I am."

"Are you telling me you're going to have to cough up more money to finish the day? Silas, that's a bad mistake."

"Don't tell me how to run my business. What the hell difference does it make if I put up more money? It just means we leave with more laundered money passing through Reginald St. Claire's hands."

"You're crossing lines we never agreed to cross," the man warned Silas. "You need to walk away from that tournament now. You needed to walk away from it sooner. All of this could have been handled the first day Jake Randoll came to town if you'd just let me do my job."

"If an FBI agent turned up missing or dead, feds would have swarmed this place and the entire tournament would have been canceled. I couldn't risk Randoll disappearing before the last day."

"Well, it's the last day now. Forget the laundering. That wasn't the point of all this anyway. The boat is already in position. I can have you out of there in a half hour. You're risking everything over a stupid card game."

"You think I can't beat a Yankee FBI agent at cards? The day that's the case, I'll slit my own wrists."

"It's not just him and you know it. The girl is helping him."

"She's nothing but trash made by despicable people. She can't make a difference."

There was a pause on the other end and finally the man spoke. "Is that what this is about? Personal business that should have died a long time ago? You take these chances for nothing. Randoll is no fool."

"Then he'll be a dead smart man by the end of the day."

"And what about the woman?"

"I have plans for her." Silas flipped his phone shut. Oh, did he have plans for Mallory Devereaux. Mallory, who looked so much like her mother.

He pulled an old, faded photo from his wallet and stared it.

Beautiful, unfaithful Marie.

Reginald St. Claire would go down for helping her escape him. He'd know what it was like to sit in a cell surrounded by four gray walls ... separated from the woman he loved, his entire life changing and unable to do anything about it ... he'd know with certainty that Silas was responsible for making it all happen And Mallory Devereaux would become one more dead whore-just like her mother.

Jake placed his cards on the table with a smile. He'd tried to hold it in, but this hand had clinched it. Silas Hebert was out of chips. Even though they hadn't gotten a glimpse of every hand, Scooter's tips to Mallory had definitely given Jake's play that extra edge he needed to beat Silas.

Now, Silas's only option to continue play was to put up more money, and Jake desperately hoped his ego would entice him to do exactly that.

He looked across the table at the man and waved one hand at the empty table in front of him. "Mr. Hebert, you're out of chips. As this is the final day of play, you're allowed to purchase one round of chips worth ten thousand to stay in the tournament. Are you interested in making that purchase, or would you like to call it quits?"

Silas stared at him for a couple of seconds, not saying a word, and Jake felt moisture begin to form on his brow. Buy the chips. Buy the chips. He found himself mentally chanting that mantra and wondering if the whole paranormal thing had finally rubbed off on him and he'd decided to try a mind bend.

Finally, Silas reached into his jacket, pulled out a stack of bound bills and laid it on the table. "I'll take the ten thousand. You're not getting rid of me that easily." He stared directly at Jake, making sure both the words said and those implied were relayed in his gaze.

"I never thought it would be easy," Jake replied as he lifted the stack of bills off the table and placed it on the shelf below. He counted out ten thousand in chips and pushed them across the table to Silas, barely able to contain his excitement. The bastard had gone for it! Now all Jake had to do was continue winning and everything was going to work out.

Silas would go to prison. Mallory would get the money for Harry's business, and based on the dwindling number of players at the other tables, things were looking pretty good for Reginald St. Claire.

As for himself, he'd head back to New Jersey alone - up one huge money laundering bust and down one partner. But when he considered the things Mark had hidden from him all these years, letting go of his old partner would be the easy part. Letting go of his new partner was something he still didn't want to think about.

"Well, gentlemen," Jake said as he shuffled the decks and placed them in the shoe. "We have about an hour of play left before lunch. What do you say I take all your money and we call this a day."

Silas stared at him and raised one eyebrow, issuing the silent challenge. The Mafia guy smirked and Father Thomas cleared his throat before saying, "This is the poker game that the Lord hath made."

"Then I guess I better get to dealing." Jake placed the final group of cards into the shoe and pushed his ante into the center of the table. "Wouldn't want to disappoint the Lord."

Mallory could barely contain her excitement as she removed the dirty glasses from the poker table and stacked them on the nearby tray. As soon as the door swung shut behind the last player, Jake grabbed the stack of bills he'd gained from Silas and waved it at Mallory.

"I've got to run tests on this," he said, the excitement evident in his voice. "Reginald gave me an office on the second floor with a wall safe to secure the funds. I'll give you a call as soon as I know for sure."

Mallory smiled and gave him a thumbs-up as he hurried away from the table. She glanced at the stacks of chips on the table and couldn't help the feeling of elation that passed over her. It was still too soon to celebrate, but damn, things were looking good.

The Mafia guy and the banker had played out just before lunch, and both had declined the additional buy-in option. Father Thomas only had chips remaining for two more antes. Silas had played well but was already down five thousand of the ten additional he'd put up. All Jake had to do was shut down the table before the ATF bust happened, and she would earn her money from Reginald.

The ATF bust was still a bit of a worry-guys with guns tended to make Mallory a little nervous, especially when there was no deer or ducks around, but it wasn't like anyone had asked her opinion. And on the plus side, with the boat closing in on land at a rapid speed, there shouldn't be much lag time in between the bust and docking. The FBI had a team of men in Royal Flush waiting for the word from Jake to take their places at the dock, so that end of things was covered, too.

Mallory glanced at the clock on the wall and hurried to the dining room. She needed to eat a sandwich or something before play resumed for the afternoon. She was also dying to check in with Amy, whose table had grown less and less crowded as the morning wore on. Then she still needed to check in with Reginald and Scooter. Make sure everything was all right on their end.

She found Amy at their usual table in the restaurant. When she saw Mallory, a huge smile lit up her face. "I won!" she shouted before Mallory could even make it to the table, then jumped out of her chair and grabbed Mallory's hands, dancing her around in a circle. "I won, I won, I won!"

Mallory smiled back at Amy and allowed herself to be twirled in a circle. "It's a good thing," she said when the twirling finally stopped. "Dancing with me probably just bought you an entire afternoon of bad luck."

Amy waved one hand in dismissal and flopped back in her chair. "Who cares? I've had enough good happen today to hold me over for a long, long time." She leaned toward Mallory as she slid into the seat across from her and whispered, "After lunch, I'm going to Reginald's office to help Scooter give you guys tips. I cleared it with your uncle just before lunch."

Mallory couldn't hold back a grin. Scooter had been doing a fabulous job so far, but with both him and Amy watching the cards, Mallory knew there was no way Jake could lose. "When this is over, I owe you huge."

"I heard Silas bought in," Amy said, her voice low.

"Yeah, Jake's testing the money now," Mallory whispered.

"When this is over, we are both set for life," Amy said Mallory was just about to reply when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Knowing that no one she'd want to touch her would dare, she felt her pulse quicken as she turned around in her seat. She almost breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Walter Royal standing there. For the first time in her life, Royal wasn't dead last on her shit list.

"Mr. Royal," she said, trying not to smile. After all, the fool had just ruined his afternoon of play by touching her. "How can I help you?"