Death On the Flop by Jackie Chance Read Free Book Online

island.”
    “The Lanai Pro-Am?”
    “Yes, that’s it.”
    “He must be good, then, your brother. Or rich.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The only way you get into this particular tournament is by being invited as a pro or paying your way in as an amateur.”
    Uh-oh. Ben hadn’t been traveling around the nation playing professional poker, I knew that much. “How much does it cost to get a seat?”
    “Five thousand dollars.”

Four

    “ Five thousand dollars!” I gasped. Several people at the bar lifted their glasses in a toast, no doubt assuming I was talking to Frank about some sort of gaming win. I lowered my voice and mused, “What is Ben thinking? Surely he can’t hope to win that back.”
    “He could win that and more. Last year’s World Poker Tour Main Event gave out fifty-two million dollars in prize money. I know the Lanai has put up a bunch of prize money on top of the pool, so the winnings would be up there. But with a couple thousand playing in the tournament, odds are low that he will bring in any big money unless he’s a pro.”
    Frank had drained another glass. I was beginning to wonder when he was going to fall off the stool, although he didn’t seem drunk. He was getting that faraway look more often, however, which made me wonder why he’d drink to avoid his ghosts if it just seemed to bring them back to him. Ah, perhaps I was being too psychoanalytic. Maybe he was just drinking at the bar to pick up women, biding his time while his wife was feeding slots or drinking up the courage to hit his own gaming table.
    “You seem to know a lot about it, do you play Texas Hold ’Em, Frank?”
    Faraway look accompanied by a headshake. More secrets. “I used to play Hold ’Em,” he murmured. “Now, when I play at all, I stick to blackjack.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Poker is a game of thirty percent luck and seventy percent skill. I went through a time where Lady Luck wasn’t shining on me in any part in my life, so I decided to go with a game where I could have more control over my wins. You play it right, and blackjack is just about ninety percent skill.”
    The waitress, who obviously knew Frank, walked past and raised her eyebrows. Hmm. I had a feeling Frank was telling me more than he probably would have if he’d stopped a few whiskeys ago. I was intrigued. There was something vulnerable behind this guy’s rather hard exterior, something that made me want to draw it out, but it was obvious there would be thorns to go through along the way. He definitely had more dimension than Toby, which might not necessarily be a good thing. Toby was a simple creature for the most part, predictable and easy to have a relationship with. Of course he was also simply a cheating scum. Perhaps I should look for complicated in a relationship partner this time. I looked at Frank again. Hmm. He was damned sexy, even if he was a little morose. Unaware of my musings, he stared into the bottom of his glass.
    I sighed. Another time I might want to take up the Frank challenge. Not tonight. Not this trip. Keeping Ben out of hock was challenge enough for me right now. There’d be another Frank in my future. Of course, I might be using a walker and Depends by then.
    “Thanks so much for the education,” I said, sliding off the seat as I felt in my purse for cash to pay for my glass of wine. Frank signaled the waitress with some obscure finger wiggle; she nodded and called out, “Frank’s taken care of your tab, miss.”
    “Oh, that’s not necessary,” I argued, turning to Frank.
    “It’s been my pleasure,” he said, flashing a warm grin. For an instant that too often used platitude seemed completely sincere. It was a good thing I was taking off, because the Pinot Grigio had loosened my inhibitions enough to get me in trouble with Frank Gilbert. “Wish your brother good luck, sharp skill and an extra dose of sportsmanship for the tournament.”
    “Thank you, as long as he doesn’t go into debt or lose his