LadySlippers
By DocPaul
Rating: NC-17…..
Spoilers: None, this is an AU.
Disclaimers: Yeah, they don’t belong to
me…..actually they are abandoned, so I gave them a ride. Sue me.
Warnings: Umm,
whatever bugs you about this story…..considered yourself warned.
Summary: To track down a hardened criminal, and
bring him to ground, Special Agent Michael Guerin is forced to employ desperate
tactics…
Author’s note:
This is a fluff piece.
Thanks to Catherine for helping us get this beta’d.
Ladyslippers
“We got the Intel you asked for.” Alex said wincing.
Sure. He had to be the one to give it to Him. Him being, Michael Guerin, Acting
Special Agent in Charge of the Federal Bureau of Investigation in
His foil was his not so friendly partner, Michael. About
the same height, but bigger in stature, his lighter brown hair and golden brown
eyes rarely smiled, and his mouth seldom knew anything but a frown. Since their
boss had been on a leave of absence for medical reasons, Michael had been pushed
into a desk job covering their division. His misery was shared by all those
around him, so close they were to a certain death, slain by his ill humor.
There was only one thing that made his humor worse than
being forced to take a desk. That was one man. Sean Moran, a festering boil on
Michael Guerin’s professional life.
“Michael, State’s Attorney is on line three.” Alex
said on his way out.
United States Attorney Maxwell Evans, his once college
roommate was currently the bane of his existence. “Maxwell?”
“Tell me it’s not true.”
Michael scratched his eyebrow. “Okay, it’s not true.”
Hearing Max’s sigh of relief, he sniffed. “Of course if you tell me what’s
not supposed to be true, I can better confirm or deny.”
“The weasel. Tell me you didn’t lose that…”
“Sean is gone. He walked from protective custody.”
Michael put the phone down and went to get more coffee
while Max expressively explained himself in four letter words, and other
figurative expletives. Very informative. That was Max Evans.
Michael came back after taking a long drink from his
coffee, letting the soothing rush of caffeine calm his inner id. Yeah, he was so
calm. “Max….” Michael waved off an interruption at his door. “Max! Yeah,
look, I can hear you clearly. I found him again. My people picked up his
trail.”
“Count yourself lucky, Michael. Friendship or not….”
“Don’t threaten me, Maxwell. If you must place blame, I
suggest you contact Tess Hardy, Special Agent of the U.S. Internal Revenue
Service. Remember her?” Michael paused. Of course Max did. Tess and he had a
clandestine affair for the past four years. Everyone knew except Max’s trophy
wife, a woman with good family connections but short on brains. She was the
perfect wife to a man who had political aspirations. Perky. Connected. Pretty.
Oblivious.
Max was silent. “What does Tess have to do with this?”
“She took over the case. Her people were in charge of
keeping Sean under wraps and safe until he could testify. That was the deal. She
felt I had a ‘conflict of interest’ in the case and relieved me and my
department after we apprehended him.”
Max seemed to be mulling it over. “Just find him! I
don’t care how many rocks you’ve got to turn over, or the deals you have to
make! Get him back. Trial is set in two weeks! No more continuations and this
will be tossed as a delay tactic and a mistrial. I want my damn witness.”
“Whatever it will take?” Michael asked quietly.
“Whatever.”
Michael breathed in deeply. Great, just great. The
potential for disaster was increasing exponentially. “Give my regards to…”
Michael winced at the slam of the receiver on the other end followed by the
hollowing dial tone. “Bambi and the kids.” Michael hung up the phone.
“They need them.”
~~~
“Alex, tell me some good news.”
Okay, that might take some thought. Alex seemed to
concentrate on all he knew, separating the good from the bad. Nope. Wasn’t
going to work. It was all bad.
Well…. “Um….” Alex scratched his brow. “We know
where he is, or specifically, we know where he is going to be in about three
days, and where he’s been.”
“How long is he going to be there?”
“Four days. I suspect the reason he took off was for this
one event. My sources tell me that Sean Moran has been hitting up all the favors
owed to him, in the form of money. I suspected he had to have a purpose for that
money, something other than a flight opportunity.”
Michael sat down putting his feet up on the desk. “Sean
is a chronic gambler. Nothing is more important than a game.”
“Bingo!”
“He’s putting together open scratch for a big game. He
must need opening roll of some major numbers. How many goulash joints you track
him to?”
“Half a dozen. He was hitting the illegal numbers hard.
We’re looking at an opening with at least a quarter large.”
Michael rubbed his face. Sean Moran with quarter of a
million on hand was nothing but disaster. “How many possibilities?”
Alex blew out hard. “
“That’s Valenti’s spot.”
“Invite only, Michael.”
“Shit!” Michael sat back. “What’re the chances our
little bird will come flying off the
“No good. Word is that Ramirez knows his pigeon has flown
protective coop, and he’s sent out a gun. They’ll be targeting him on Angel
or off. Either way, he’s a dead man.”
Michael put his head down on the table. “And dead men
don’t talk.” How frickin’ worthless? Michael rubbed his eyes. Great. Sean
got nabbed for illegal gaming, and turns State against a larger fish, Jesse
Ramirez. Then the stupid idiot goes on the lam for another illegal poker game.
He had to get Sean back in protective custody, and fast. Not just for
professional reasons, but for some very personal ones as well. Piss up a rope,
some days, he should call in sick.
“Michael,” he didn’t want to say it, but there was no
other option. “We’re going to need an invite to get in.”
Shutting his eyes, Michael shook his head. Of course they
would. They had no jurisdiction, no reason to be let in. Where there was smoke,
there sure as hell tended to be fire. Story of his life, another day in the
tinderbox.
~~~
LadySlippers. Lady gambler. A creature merciless in the
game of poker. No tell. A preternatural ability to read the table, and turn a
hand. Most wanted on the FBI list of illegal gamblers, or was, until three years
ago. Three years ago, LadySlippers retired.
She was their invite to
~~~
Binion’s Horseshoe Casino,
She tapped the table calmly. Michael stood over her
shoulder, watching the dealer at the button and the two other players. The first
folded to the pressure, but the other nodded accepting the tap. All his chips
in.
Without emotion, his LadySlipper turned to a flop, nut
straight. The man was out. Feeling his presence, she looked up and groaned.
Pushing her stake, she requested the dealer rack her out minus the rake.
Ignoring Michael, she pushed passed him.
“Maria…”
“No. I don’t see you!” Maria nodded to a waitress for
a drink.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Talk to my lawyers!” Maria took the drink, vodka
martini, dry. Tossing it back, she gave Michael an evil stare. “I’m not
doing anything illegal! This is a legit gaming house! I can be here.”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t. Do they know who you are?”
Maria stomped her foot. “Guess you’re gonna tell them?
Filthy G-Man! I swear….”
“Ah, ah!” Michael held up a finger. “What’s got you
so riled up?”
“You.” Maria huffed. “How did you find me?”
Michael laughed. “I always know where you are Maria. You
should know that by now.” Maria huffed again. She gave him a glare, and went
to take off. He stopped her. “Look, can we talk? Just talk?” Maria refused
to look at him. “Why? Why are you so pissed at me? You’re still gambling,
and making more money at it than I do at my job. What’s wrong?”
Maria ripped her arm from him, shoving him away from her.
“I have to pay taxes!” Her tone was so horrified, Michael couldn’t help
but laugh. That laugh was soon swallowed into a cursing groan. She stepped hard
on his instep.
LadySlippers. The lady gambler, given her name when she
started making a name for herself at fourteen. She had followed her deadbeat
father around from one illegal game to another, literally her entire life after
her mother died when she was four. At fourteen she got her first game stake, and
the rest was legend. Her love of shoes was notorious, and the older and more
mature she became, the more noteworthy her shoes.
The pair she donned tonight had a nice five inch spiked
steel heel. That heel was lodged in Michael’s foot. Scurrying off, Michael
quickly followed limping on his one foot. Things changed, but not Maria DeLuca.
“Look…”
“Busy!”
“Maria, I….”
Maria parried to the right, ignored him, and with a quick
dodge, made an elevator on its way up. She waved as the doors shut. Smiling at a
small child with his mother, she gave her head a shake. Time to put that nasty
man out of her head.
He was waiting at her suite door. Breathing hard and
looking more than a little irritated. Good. Aerobic exercise was a cornerstone
for good sound cardiac health.
“What part of me being mad at you doesn’t compute?”
Michael shrugged. “You’re always mad at me, for
something.”
Maria’s eyebrow went up. “How about arresting me?”
“Those charges were dropped and sealed. The deal still
stands.”
“Uh huh. Go away!” Maria opened the door. “We have a
deal. I play nice. Legal. You don’t harass. Remember?”
Michael ran his hands through his short spiky hair, his
irritation evident in the lines on his face. “I’m not harassing you!”
Maria made a face of disbelief. “Really? So what is this?
A mating dance?”
Damn her. “I need your help.”
“Okay,” Maria dug in her bag. “He charges about
three-fifty an hour. That is hundreds. But, I promise, he is the best
psychologist I could find you, highly recommended.”
“Not that kind of help.” Michael paced the room. “I
need your professional help.”
“I know this is Vegas, but darling….I don’t pull
tricks. Your sexual deficiencies….see the man on the card.”
“Maria! I don’t have any sexual…” Michael stopped,
closing his eyes. The amusement around her mouth was apparent. So easy. She
always could push all of his buttons so easy. “Gambling. I need an invite to a
high stakes poker game, this weekend, starting Thursday thru Sunday. You need a
quarter large to get in the game…invite only.”
“
Michael’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How did you
know?”
“About
“You can get an invite?”
“In a heartbeat. Not a problem, you are.” Maria mixed a
highball, stiff and straight, and tossed it back.
“You’re drinking too much.”
“File that under not your concern.”
“I beg to differ.” Michael sighed. She was such a damn
hedgehog at times. Prickly. “I need you thinking. Sober. Doing what you do
best.”
“Michael,” Maria threw herself down on the sofa kicking
off her shoes, somehow making her seem so much more vulnerable. Maria DeLuca,
vulnerable was laughable. She came from a family of grafters, con artists,
gamblers, and players. She and Sean Moran shared a common blood fever. Always
looking for a quick fix, games of chance, and danger was her narcotic. He pinned
her wings, but he couldn’t stifle her nature. It had been a fight between them
since. “I can’t break the code. You know that. A snitch or blind loses
creditability fast. Jon DeLuca would spit if his daughter took Feds to a
party.”
“Angel is outside jurisdiction. You know that. Illegal,
yes. Touchable, no. I’m not going to spoil the party. I’ve got a fleer. I
need to bring him in, before those gunners take him out. Dead men don’t walk,
and they sure as hell don’t talk.”
Maria sighed. “Who we talking about?”
“Sean.”
Maria moaned and buried her head in her hands. “Sean
Moran?! He’s elite! That means he’s in to the final days. Valenti tourney,
you lose, you walk. I’d have to play for real, all the way. No dubbing. You
realize that?”
“Yes. Sean is good. You’re better.”
Maria snorted. “You bet your ass.” Maria sniffed,
clearing her throat; she went to stand next to him, close. “This sounds like a
grey line, G-Man. How close you walking, Gee?”
“Close. I can’t lose this one. Can….” Michael
closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Totally against the rules. He was asking
for a favor. It couldn’t be helped. “Will you help me?”
“Why should I?”
Michael shrugged. “For your government?”
Maria rolled her eyes and looked at her nail job in
interest. “I pay taxes. Give me a real reason.”
“For me.”
Maria searched his face. This meant something to him. Her
eyes narrowed, and she moved in close to him, her mouth almost touching his.
“What’s in it for me?”
“Dammit! Can’t you….” Michael stopped. No she
couldn’t. That would be her stepping over a line. Careful lines. Them and Us.
Gamblers versus Feds. She crossed, her entire world came crashing down. She
walked close at times, but there were rules. “I can give you things, but since
you asked I know you already know what you want. Why don’t you tell me.”
Maria ran her hand up his front, her perfectly polished
nail flicking at a button on his shirt. Licking her lips, she looked up at him
and slowly smiled. “Immunity. My record gone. Parole agreement. Gone. You
cover the two-fifty large, I keep it and all I make.”
Michael pushed her off him. He could’ve written that
request. “That’s a lot.”
“Non-negotiable. You came to me. Not acceptable. Walk.”
Maria pointed to the door.
“How long would it take you to get an invite?”
“After tonight. There’s a grafter’s game. Backroom.
High stakes. I could make that. I’d have an invite first thing in the morning.
Early.”
“Can you get both Alex and me in?”
“Sure,” Maria licked her lips. “I’ll tell them
you’re my husband, and Alex my security. Not a big deal.” Maria laughed, her
eyes sparkling. “Or maybe Alex should be Mr. LadySlipper, and you can be
rent-a-muscle.”
“Stop it!” Michael’s mouth pulled in a slight smile.
All these years, and she was still the most annoying woman. “Immunity?”
“Uh huh. To get an invite, I need to gamble….real
gamble, not this piss and water shit.” Maria’s hands moved up his arms.
“That means I break my agreement, per my retirement. I have to gamble, so I
want immunity.”
“Okay. Deal.”
“Uh uh. I want it in writing. All legal like. Just like
the last time. Signed, sealed, and delivered with a kiss.” Maria’s mouth
touched Michael’s barely. “So call the stuff shirt, Max. Tell Mr. U.S.
Attorney he will have to authorize.”
“He already did. He gave me an opened ticket.”
“Not good enough. I need it in writing.” Maria looked
at her watch, a thin delicate golden strand on her arm.
“Two hours. My lawyers will be here. Don’t be late, or don’t come.
Now run downtown, like a good public servant.” Her green eyes flashing in
amusement.
Michael glared at her, his mouth drawing into a nasty
smile. “Hope you haven’t lost your touch! Think you can still win?” His
tone implied that he doubted it.
Maria threw her shoe at the closing door. Insulting
bastard! Maria threw herself on the sofa in a huff. She stared at the closed
door, and reluctantly a smile spread on her face. Oh, this could be fun.
~~~
Michael swore at his cell phone. It was late. More than
late. It was early, early morning. Alex was still inputting data. If they could
intercept Sean before he made Angel, they might stop it before it started. They
pulled an all nighter.
He growled in his phone.
“Testy. That is why you should try keeping decent hours,
and sleeping.” Maria’s soft voice sounded in Michael’s ear.
“Lady G. Why you calling me so early?”
“Hmm,” Maria sighed. “No reason, junior G. Just
thought I’d tell you that LadySlippers is going to Angel. I’ve got three
games before, so you need to get in wardrobe, something sexy and elegant,
befitting my husband. Nothing off the rack, and Armani gold label is preferred.
I like my men in raw silk, worsted wool, or nothing. Underwear totally optional,
but you do know my preference.”
“I know about your men, Maria.” Michael ignored
Alex’s look. He tipped back his chair stretching his back. His voice was deep,
low and sexy. “What yah wearing?” He could hear the rustling of sheets.
Maria laughed her light giggle, “Nuthin’ honey.” She
gently returned the receiver to the cradle.
~~~
One truth remained. It was an invite only game, the
invitations going to the circuit of known gamblers with a name. That opened the
door for over seventy-five entries leaving over eighteen million to be split in
numerous ways.
With great stakes came great security.
~~~
“No guns.”
Maria frowned and gestured at Alex not to protest.
“Sorry, Alex is my security. I’m carrying a large quantity of money. He and
my husband are carrying them for good reason.”
The man looked at Maria, and she smiled charmingly.
“Sorry, ma’am. No one carries on Angel. They may check in their pieces with
us, and we’ll return their property when they leave.”
Maria shrugged. “Sorry boys, you heard the man.” Maria
smiled at the man once more. “Do I turn over my money for the buy in with you
as well?”
“No ma’am. You need to take it to the main complex. The
opening game will hold in bank for buy in chips.”
“Fine. Then I’ll need one of your lovely men to escort
me…with a gun. Trusting, I’m not.”
“Always causing a ruckus.” A voice said from the
doorway. Maria looked over and smiled with genuine warmth. “Kyle Valenti. As I
live and breathe.”
Kyle took Maria’s hand and kissed it, then leaned forward
and kissed her on the mouth. The growling sound from Michael drew both of their
attention. Kyle looked at him with interest.
“Pardon?”
“Sorry, Kyle. I don’t think you’ve met my husband.
Michael, this is Kyle Valenti.”
Kyle’s eyebrow went up. “Married? Is that where you
disappeared to over the past three years. I hear that you were only gambling in
the legit casinos, but no high stakes.”
“Honeymoon,” Maria said as Kyle shook Michael’s hand.
Maria sniffed. “It had to end sooner or later,” she said with a touch of
sarcasm. “Who knew three years could last so long, almost an eternity.”
Michael looked at her sharply with a narrowing look, but he
remained silent.
Kyle made a whopping laugh. He nodded security away.
“Sorry about the regulations. I’d okay your boys keeping their pieces, but
regulations were set up for a reason.” Kyle watched both Michael and Alex hand
over their guns. “I know they’re actually guarding you and not some small
chicken scratch.”
“Always a gentleman, Kyle. Where is that lovely father of
yours? I need to thank him for the invite.”
Kyle led them towards the main house; their bags being take
care of by the
Maria laughed. “That was a low end game. Buy in was only
ten thousand.” Maria tsked, thinking of the massive amount of chips. It had
been a good game.
“True, but he held half the chips in the final bout, and
you took it all. Before he could ever arrange a rematch, you were off the
circuit. Where were you, Maria? Making babies?”
Maria turned pale, and Michael noticed her reaction.
Curious. She actually looked sick. “Nope. Would you trust children with me?
I’d probably use them as collateral for a blind.”
“High or low?” Kyle asked curiously.
“Definitely high.” Maria sniffed in heavily. “Aw the
smell of money is in the air, I can almost hear the crisp clinking of chips.”
“You make plenty.”
Maria snorted rolling her eyes. “Where does my money
go?”
Kyle laughed, ignoring the two men. “That is the mystery!
Why would we play if we had enough?”
“It’s not the money, you know that young Valenti.”
Maria said. Kyle patted her hand. She was right. It was the stakes. The high
stakes, the thrill of winning, and the possibility of losing so much money in
one turn of the cards. Games of chance had an adrenaline unlike anything else.
Mental extreme sports, pitting a mental power to bluff and steel nerves against
a competitor. They were all predators.
Kyle nodded to one of the men in the main house. “Please
show Ms. Maria her rooms. Their bags are down at check-in.” Kyle bent to kiss
Maria again, but caught Michael’s eye and quickly deviated to her cheek. “We
put you in the main house. Dad wants to keep an eye on you. We’ll expect you
to dine with the family, your husband, too.” Kyle nodded at Michael and
excused himself. “Maria. Mr. LadySlippers.”
He was gone before Michael could make a comment. Maria
pulled him with her as the servant escorted them to their suite. They were given
a full suite with a connecting side room off the main suite for Alex. Maria
tossed her bag. They waited for the door to shut before anyone spoke.
“Think that Sean….” Alex started, but Maria
interrupted.
“I think it’s a lovely room. Alex, be a dear and check
your room. I hate to think you’ll be uncomfortable.” Maria looked around.
“This is so much nicer than the main gambling casino Jim built, where the
others will be housed. Last time I was there it had lots of bugs. It was a bad
year for them.” Maria turned and smiled at the two men. “You don’t think
there’ll be bugs this year do you? You know how big every thing is in
Alex nodded. He got her meaning. He and Michael began a
methodical search of the room. They went over it twice while Maria let the men
delivering with their bags into the room.
Alex grabbed his bag and retrieved some electronics from a
hidden bottom, that and two guns. He passed Michael one and an extra clip. Both
men rearmed themselves. Alex quickly checked out the room.
“It’s clean.” He returned his electronic devise to
its case.
Maria yawned. “Jim bugged me last time hoping to hear
strategy. He probably refrained this year. He knows I never talk in my sleep.”
Maria patted Michael’s stomach. “Guess he could’ve asked you, sugar.”
“Maria how does…” Michael started but Maria
distracted him. She started taking off clothing regardless of who was in her
room.
“If you want to check on Sean’s arrival, I suggest the
main casino. Tell them you are checking layout and security, Alex. That is your
job. They will be very forthcoming. Also find out where we bank the buy in.
It’ll give you cover.” Maria looked at her watch. She was exhausted. Three
games in less than thirty-six hours. She need down time before the evening
opener began, but first she would have to survive family dinner with the
Valenti’s.
Alex nodded and hit Michael on the arm. Maria turned at the
bedroom door. Looking at Michael, an eyebrow went up. “You coming, honey?”
Alex laughed. “Go do your duty. You’re the husband. It
would look funny for you wander around without her.”
“True. You coming to dinner?”
Alex shook his head. “No way! I’m the paid muscle.
I’ll eat with the other security guys. Get some good gossip that way.” Alex
laughed on his way out the room.
Michael looked around the place. Too big. Too showy. He
hated places like this. Not Maria. She was raised in hotels and casinos. They
were home. The woman’s idea of cooking or cleaning was calling room service or
housekeeping. It didn’t help that her father, Jon DeLuca won a casino in a
take all poker hand over ten years ago. Getting her from this life was damn near
impossible.
“Maria…” Michael entered the bedroom. “What did you
mean that Jim Valenti knows you don’t talk in your sleep? Maria?”
She was on the bed, never made it beneath the covers.
Sleeping in a slip, she never got her shoes off. Michael removed them, dropping
them on the floor, and covering her with
a throw blanket. Curled to the side, she was sleeping with a hand under her
cheek, her face fresh and young. She looked so much younger when she was asleep.
Without that wary spark in her eye, an alarming mature glint that was suspicious
and cynical, she suddenly looked barely eighteen.
Michael watched her sleep for a while until he finally let
tiredness drag him into the bed next to her. Rubbing his face, he yawned.
Rolling over to spoon behind her, he joined his hand over hers where a wedding
ring sparkled. What the hell would he have to do to finally get her free of this
world? Would he ever find a way? Three years later, and it was apparent, he was
failing miserably.
~~~
Michael rolled for the phone. “Yeah?” He listened and
quickly thanked the man. Hanging up the phone, he looked down at Maria. She had
turned in her sleep, and she was sleeping on his chest. Tired. She didn’t look
well. Last three days, she took over four games, fast and furious. She was using
them to get her hand back into the game. It had been a while since she played
for high stakes. Talent was one thing, but all skills required practice.
“Maria.” Michael bent down to talk in her ear softly.
“Hey, wake up, sleeping brat.”
“Pig.” Maria pushed him away and turned over hugging a
pillow.
“Call came. Cocktails in half an hour.”
Maria groaned. “Damn! Family dinners suck. Kill me now.
The food will be expensive, over cooked, and look like a nightmare. Bet they got
a five-star French chef. All my meat will be covered in some damn sauce. What
the hell is wrong with a good grilled steak and potato?” Maria rolled over
dejectedly. “I need to be suitably late.”
Maria’s eyes ran over Michael, and she smiled. “Half an
hour?” He nodded his eyes taking on a bright glint. Her hand ran up his front,
popping the button of his shirt. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to
sleep in your clothes?”
“My mother told me to stay away from dangerous and fast
women.”
“So that’s where you get that fatal attraction. Poor
old shoe. Didn’t she know that a boy will do the direct opposite?”
Michael nibbled on her bottom lip. “You really want to
talk about my mother?”
A fine shudder went through Maria. “Absolutely not! But
I’m going to send her mental vibes about all the things I want to do to you,
and that should give her a coronary.”
Michael laughed softly against her as she kissed him. Not
so happy with his mother recently, he didn’t find Maria’s reaction to his
mom a bad thing. Groaning, his hand found the length of bare skin beneath the
hem of her slip. Elegant. She was damn elegant all the time. When he first met
her, he hadn’t realized that women, young women could have a sense of timeless
style. She did everything almost as if she lived trapped in a bygone era where
women wore dresses, coiffed clothing, and dressing down was an unknown concept.
She was a woman that should’ve been born a century or more back, one where she
would’ve owned a high price casino and whore house.
“I thought you were mad at me.”
Maria bit his lip. “I am. That’s why I’m getting you
all bothered and hot. Frustration is good for a man. Gives him a mean look…an
edge.”
Maria rolled off the bed eluding Michael’s hand. Looking
at her watch she grimaced. They would be late for sure. Her hair was a mess. Her
bags weren’t unpacked.
“No time right now, G-man. I’ll let you try to detain
me later.” Maria went to the bathroom, her voice flowing behind her in a
sugary sweet mimic of something….well, hell, very sick in Michael’s mind.
“Honey…..” Michael hacked at the sugary tone. “Could you get my bags?
Thanks snookums.”
Michael groaned and lay back on the bed. It reminded him of
the six year pursuit of her. Lots of frustration. Lots of cold showers. She was
the one thing he wanted. The one thing he couldn’t have. Six years of teasing,
chasing and eluding, he was a registered member of the blue ball syndrome. Their
frickin’ poster boy.
~~~
Valenti’s. Jim was the main attraction. A man firm in the
rule of his family, but lax in one area. His young wife, Isabel.
He married her twelve years ago, when she was nineteen. At
sixty-eight, Jim Valenti felt that Isabel was the one thing he couldn’t lose.
Michael assessed the woman immediately as he entered the room with Maria on his
arm. It was hard not to know what type of woman she was. He could feel her eyes
stripping his clothes, but not before noticing the label and cut. The sound of
cash registers was loud and apparent. Isabel Valenti was a gold digging
opportunist. She had her eye on the main chance, and a love for money and power.
Her hatred of Maria DeLuca was apparent. Maria was a woman
that moved in a world that commanded money and respect, and she earned it all
completely on her own. That put her up in the eyes of the very men that Isabel
had always preyed upon.
“Maria!” Jim Valenti’s warm smile was friendly and
genuine. He reached down and kissed her cheek, pausing to firmly shake
Michael’s hand. “Kyle told me that you got married! This is a surprise! Jon
didn’t say a word.”
“For good reason,” said a voice from the door. Maria
groaned. Turning and smiling big, she left Michael.
“Hi, dad. I didn’t know you were coming to Angel.”
Kissing her father’s cheek and returning a hug, Maria did something she never
did. She gave a tell sign. Nervous. She nibbled on a nail.
“Where else would I be? The big surprise is your
presence.” Jon DeLuca looked Michael up and down. His eyebrow raising.
“Michael, how are you?”
“Fine, Sir.” Well sonnabitch. Jon DeLuca. That was an
unforeseen complication.
Jon snorted and nodded to the other people. His eyes
stopped on Isabel, more specifically her cleavage. “Isabel, you’re
looking….healthy.”
Jim hit his old friend on the back. “Jon, what’ll you
have?”
“Cutters. Straight.”
“I’ll get it,” said Kyle joining them. He stopped to
kiss Maria’s hand, ignoring the glare from both Michael and Isabel.
“LadySlippers, name your poison.”
“Well, Sir, a nice Tennessee Mash would be lovely, but I
think I’ll stick to tomato juice, touch of
Kyle’s eyebrow went up. “You on the wagon?”
Maria sniffed. “Someone,” she said with a bite,
“suggested that I drink too much.”
“Who is that uncouth bore to defame a lady, thus?”
Jesse Ramirez asked as he entered the room with a tall blonde on his arm. Jesse
stopped next to Maria. “LadySlippers?” Maria nodded. “Your reputation
precedes you. I’ve always wanted to meet you.”
“It would be Jesse, wouldn’t it?” Maria said sweetly.
“My husband…um,…” Maria purposely forgetting Michael’s name.
“Michael.” Michael pinched Maria’s side smiling at
her small yelp. “Mr. Ramirez. This is an honor.”
“Indeed.” Jesse quickly dismissed Michael and went on
to charm Isabel. Maria looked his dinner companion over. She was an overblown
blonde in too much makeup, a skimpy dress with her breasts threatening to bounce
out. Her cold blue eyes were interesting. They belied her face and attitude. She
was more than she appeared.
“I’m sorry, Jesse. I’m afraid I didn’t catch your
companion’s name.” Maria said sweetly.
“Courtney.” Jesse said off handedly. “Court, get me a
drink.”
Maria thanked Kyle for her drink, and she sipped it while
sharing a look over the rim saying to Michael. “Isn’t this fun? Honey, you
know how to pick the best parties.”
“Shut up,” said Michael softly. “Did you know about
your father and Ramirez?”
“Well…I’m not the person who was supposed to pull
Intel, Junior G. My job was to open the door. Done.” Maria moved her hand
inside Michael’s jacket along his waist. “Isabel is undressing you again,”
she said softly in his ear.
“Yeah, I’ve got bruises on my body.” Michael looked
down at her. “Will Jon say anything?”
Maria shrugged. “Hard to say. He likes a good show.
He’ll probably sit back and watch it, highly amused.”
“Great.” Michael took her drink and took a sip. “No
vodka. What’s up?”
“Now why does something have to be up?” Maria licked
her lips. “Sweetie, I swear you’re almost accusing me of manipulating things
or something.”
“Maria.” Michael’s eyes narrowed. She laughed and
stopped when he quickly kissed her, regardless of the company. He moved away
leaving her breathless, taking the stalk of celery from her glass and munching
it loudly. “I believe the pot is to you. Check or raise.”
Michael went to pour another drink. Maria fumed a little.
She hated when he bested her. She sure as hell wouldn’t fold.
Michael was standing at the mini bar in the corner mixing
drinks, sipping his, and watching everyone as discretely as possible. He
couldn’t contact Alex to see if he located Sean. Jesse Ramirez was a problem.
He couldn’t be trying to shut Sean up himself, so there had to be a loose gun
running around. Ramirez wanted a front row seat. Michael’s eyebrow went up
when he noticed Kyle handing Isabel a drink, the way they shared a look, and the
way Isabel slid her hand off Kyle’s suggestively. Hmm.
“What the hell are you doing here, Michael? For that
matter, what is my daughter doing here?” Jon asked. He poured himself another
drink. Stiff.
“She wanted to play.”
Jon rolled his eyes. “You effectively destroyed that part
of her life three years ago. Don’t give me that.” Jon sipped his drink.
“This smells of you using my daughter again. Bad enough you took everything
from her, now you use her when it serves your purpose.” Jon’s stomach was
souring. He didn’t spend much of his life noticing his daughter, actually, he
actively ignored her. She pretty much raised herself, and one day he woke up,
and she was gone. Now things were different. He wanted her back. She let him in
a little, but not much. “She’s unhappy. I guess I have you to thank for that
too.”
Michael sneaked a glance at Maria who was talking to Kyle.
“What do you mean?”
Jon sneered at Michael. “You’re her husband!” He said
sarcastically, letting it drip in spite. Michael frickin’ Guerin. The man that
took his daughter out of the life. The DeLuca legacy. Bastard. “You should
know!” He took himself off before he took a poke at Michael.
Maria had been right. It was a dinner from Hell. The food
was as she described. French cuisine. Small pieces of lamb medallions covered in
a mint sauce, three spears of asparagus, and a small tureen of mushrooms and new
potatoes. Michael spooned his watercress soup; letting is pour back into the
bowl. He was going to starve to death here, and the look on Maria’s face
confirmed that she felt the same.
“Jim, darling. I must say that your chef did you
proud,” Maria said. Michael’s eyes narrowed. Oh, she was up to something.
Her voice took on a slick southern sound when she was on the mark. “But I was
wondering if you could get him to make me a nice steak, medium rare with a large
baked potato?”
Isabel’s voice rose in indignation. “What? This isn’t
good enough for you?”
“No. It’s just that I’m pregnant, and really need the
extra protein. For the baby. Doctor’s orders. I’ve been wasting lately.”
Maria said sweetly. Both Michael and Jon DeLuca coughed on their food at the
same time.
Maria was happily munching down a huge steak dripping in
onions and grilled mushrooms. Her potato was the size of the damn state of
“You’re pregnant!” His voice was accusing.
Maria snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Got me my steak
didn’t it?”
Michael stared at her in disbelief. That explained her not
drinking alcohol. Jim Valenti fawned all over Maria, ordered her a huge hearty
meal, and kept trying to push seconds on her. “You lied!”
Maria rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so. You know me.” Damn,
after nine years he was just now figuring this out? Not too swift these G-Men
types. “Look, G, sweetie, I’ve got a full night of gambling. I need my
energy. Steak. Good. Tiny emaciated lamb medallions. Bad.”
“Give me a bite.”
Maria hoarded her plate, moving it away from his hungry
eyes. “Mine. Get your own!”
~~~
“Sean Moran.” Maria searched her prey up and down. Here
he was. The man responsible for her current state of affairs.
“Maria.” Sean smiled his charming slick grin.
“You’re as beautiful as I remembered. Haven’t seen you since Tunica.”
“It’s been a while.” Maria took a seat next to him.
“You closed for the night?”
“Yeah wiped out my table. Advancing to the next night.
Went down to see those losers booted off.”
“You’re such a sweetie.” Maria motioned for a bottle
of water. She was parched. Ten hours of play and she was ready to hit the
sheets. “Hear you’re in a bad way. Turning on Ramirez. That takes some major
cajones, buddy.”
“He turned on a deal with me. It’s the code. Can’t
let him stiff me that way.”
“Ratting comes with its own price. You know that.”
Sean shrugged. Jesse was a bigger rat. Plus, he sort of
owed someone. “I got into this situation. There is this bull terrier after me.
Real mean so and so. He put the pressure on with all this crap about civil duty,
and it was a real downer.” Fucking Michael Guerin. Bastard. Sean tossed back
his drink and motioned for another. “I, in a moment of weakness, agreed. My
life has been shit since. They locked me away. I almost missed this shindig.”
“Maybe you shoulda. I had dinner with Jesse Ramirez
tonight.”
Maria watched as Sean went pale. Well, who knew. He
hadn’t known. Unreal. No one passed gossip faster than grafters.
“He’s here?!”
“Um hum. Word is he hired a gun to take you out. Pop
holes in your lily white ass.” Maria smiled in her drink. “Though I’m sure
you’re use to people taking shots at you. Women?”
Sean practically spit in his drink. “Not the ladies! They
love me. Naw, it’s their husbands I have problems with.”
“You sleep with Jesse’s girl?” Maria snickered at
that. Frickin’ 70’s song. Now she’d be humming it all night.
Sean looked around, and whispered to Maria. “Naw, his
mother!”
“No! Get out of here! She has to be…..like old!”
“Best set of legs outside of yours, I swear. Woman got me
drunk and abused me.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Maria rested her arm on the bar and
stared at the man. Sean. He had a sweet boyish charm all his own. Curling light
brown hair, and wicked hazel eyes. He had a way of smiling that made a person
know that he was alive, full of fun, and ready to share. “I bet woman abuse
you all the time! Throw you on the bed and have their way.”
“I hate to say no. It might bruise their sensitive
ego.”
Maria nodded. Such a lovely boy. “So you slept with
Jesse’s mother, and he retaliated by dropping a deal with you?”
“Cost me a bundle. It was hard enough drop that I got
picked up by the Feds. They offered me a deal, and I didn’t see any reason not
to take it, turn over on Jesse seeing how he snitched me out to the Feds in the
first place.”
“Turnabout fair play?”
“Yeah.” Sean smiled at Maria moving in on her. “So
you look lonely, sort of sad. You’ve been off the circuit lately. You okay?”
“Been keeping clean. I had this annoying pest
situation.” Maria knew Michael was listening. She was sure he would have
something to say about that later. “Anyway, this pest was a big…huge
infestation. Sucked my life dry. I swear. I had no recourse, so I accepted the
inevitable.”
“That sucks. Let me buy you a drink.”
Maria smiled. “You want to buy me a drink?” Oh this
should be interesting. “Sure, what do you suggest?”
Sean moved closer, pushing a bowl of peanuts to Maria.
“Oh, we could take it to a private party. Tequila shots? I’ll tell you about
my game tonight. I was on the mark.”
“Tequila.” Maria felt a pull of a smile. “I don’t
know. I heard all about you, Sean. Nothing you like more than gambling, then the
ladies.”
“Not true! It’s the ladies! They love me. I’m
innocent.”
Maria laughed. Oh, that charm. She would recognize it
anywhere. It was lethal, but she had already been bitten, so it was easy to see
it for what it was. It didn’t matter. Her pit bull would be there, sooner or
later.
Maria felt him before she saw him. So. Okay, sooner.
Sean saw him too. He put his head down on the bar groaning.
“Damn! Who let you in the door?” Sean hit the bar with his hand. “This is
not fair! Not fair.”
“Buck it up, Sean. You’ve been bad.” Michael said,
his face stony and mean.
“Yeah, according to you, story of my life.” Sean looked
at the bartender. “Hit me again. Hit me hard, and keep them coming.”
“You’re a liability. You know that?”
Sean shrugged. “I’m not leaving, so don’t even
suggest it. I’ll scream a shriek. I’m sure Valenti will take offense having
Feds in house.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “You’re not clear here.
Ramirez is taking a front seat interest. He rolled power players to whack
you.”
Sean grabbed his two drinks. “Good thing you’re here
then. Stop them from interfering with my game, and I’ll go like a lamb after
day four. Earlier if I get ousted from the table. Deal?”
Maria refused to make eye contact with Michael. His deal.
His runner. Not her business. She held her breath. It was the game. The game was
everything.
Michael blew the air from his lungs. It was stupid to keep
Sean in the open. He was a potential lost. Staring at Maria’s bowed head,
Michael bit back his natural instinct to take his charge and go undercover. She
wasn’t putting in her two cents, but he could almost feel her holding her
breath.
“Okay. We stay.”
Sean smiled. That was unexpected. “I stay, but you need
to make sure you keep up with me on the tourney. Lose a day, and you’re
gone.” Sean winked at Maria. He took his drinks and went to find a party.
Michael sat next to Maria. Noting her water, he nodded for
another bottle and one for him. “Can you hold on as long as him?” He asked
quietly.
“Not a problem.” Maria ripped the label off her water.
“I can hold, but I go to day four and finals, then it’s for me, and you have
to worry about your own concerns.”
“Understood.” Michael took the mutilated bottle from
her. “You really think I destroyed your life?” He asked quietly.
“I didn’t say you destroyed it.” Maria said.
“No, no you didn’t. You said I sucked your life dry.”
Her father said he ruined her life. Michael’s stomach hurt. He had to be
working on a damn ulcer.
“You definitely changed it. It was inevitable.” Maria
sighed heavily. “What happened, Michael? Three years ago?” Maria said
looking at him. “I walked in, you didn’t take me in. I made the deal with
Max. I didn’t have to do that. It was my choice.”
“You did it for me.”
“I did.” Maria took her water back. “Guess you can
say that I did the damage to my life, all by myself.”
He never asked her why. He thought he knew. Maybe he needed
to hear it from her. “Why? I…” Michael scratched his eyebrow. “Why,
Maria?”
Maria stroked his cheek. “Maybe I thought you were worth
it.” Maria was tired. She needed to sleep. She looked at him. “You’ve been
on desk lately. How do you like it?”
“Hate it.” It was easy to be honest about that. He
hated being pulled from the field.
“Then perhaps now you understand how I feel.” Maria
left him sitting there.
~~~
Alex looked over when she came through the door. The wire
she had on was off in two seconds flat. “That is the last time I wear a wire.
It stifles my movement. I can’t concentrate.”
“You were on tonight.”
“Not on enough. I felt stiff.” Maria sat down and took
off her shoes. “I’m going to have to do some real soul searching, get my
mind in the zone. This is down a day. I might not get to do this again, any time
soon. I should enjoy myself.”
Alex nodded. “He was out the door once you started
talking to Sean.”
“He’s getting slower in his old age.”
Alex laughed at that. “He’s been upset. Worried about
you.”
Maria shrugged. “He knows better. I’m fine. I’m
always fine.”
“You disappeared.”
“Yeah, well I don’t remember the deal I made included
me signing in and out or keeping the authorities informed of my schedule.”
Alex looked at her. “It didn’t, but you know he spent a
lot of years playing ‘catch me if you can’ with you. Old habits are hard to
kick.”
“Well I warned him. I gave him the full Jack Nicholson
deal.”
Alex frowned. “Jack Nicholson?”
“Yeah, as good as it gets.” Alex laughed at that. “I
think I’ll go take a long bath and go to bed.”
Alex watched her, but he couldn’t let it stand at that.
“Maria,” Alex waited for her to look back at him. “It was a good thing you
did. It saved his career.” Maria nodded. She was too tired to really think
about it.
~~~
Michael came out of the bedroom in only his pants, still
wiping moisture off his shoulders from the shower. Alex was talking on the
phone, and Sean was sleeping on the sofa. It was the end of the third day. So
far it had been uneventful. Both Sean and Maria had advanced to day four finals.
They were two of the nine final seats.
“How is she?”
Michael stretched. He slept badly; His mother’s assurance
for naps was something else to hold against her. He sneered at the sleeping
Sean. “Her usual freaky self. She just spent five minutes in the bathroom
while I was showering telling me how this side of the house is unlucky. That Jim
did it on purpose. Something about my aftershave. She wants me to stop shaving
until after the tournament.”
“Sean told me that changing my socks would be bad
luck.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Maria has a list. She won’t
touch plastic. Wood only, no laminate. She tossed out clothing that might be
synthetic. She woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted the left
side of the bed. Also, she’d like you to go back to the mainland and get her a
new lucky rabbit’s foot.”
“Michael! Did you touch the side of the door when you
went through? You have to touch the side of the door!”
“Lady G, you’re getting deranged.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not looking at
elimination! I swear if it’s pasta for dinner, I’ll know that Jim is trying
to sabotage me.” Maria hit Michael with his shirt. “This has synthetic
fibers. Toss it! I’m going to go check the kitchen. I want to make sure that
they got the milk fresh this morning. Nothing frozen. Nothing from
concentrate.”
Sean laid back on the sofa with a hat over his face to keep
out the light. “It’ll get worse. Last night is always worse. I didn’t
change my underwear once for sixteen days.”
Michael and Alex both stepped further away from him.
Maria, the maniacal suite genie went around the room
reorganizing the furniture. Feng Shuing the world from a possible misalignment
at the next convergence.
“In the next few hours it is important that no one look
at me, talk to me directly or break my concentration. No music or strong odors.
I should avoid men altogether.”
Michael ignored her ranting and went into the bedroom
pulling on his shirt. This was a woman that saved the rinds off salami. No one
ever accused her of sanity. "Maria, get your ass in here right now!"
It was a loud roar and it echoed throughout the room. Maria crossed her eyes at
Alex and he decided to discretely leave the room.
"You bellowed G-Man?"
Michael stood next to the bed, arms folded, expression
stern, but with a twinkle in his golden brown eyes "What is all this?"
Eyes wide, and shining with innocence, Maria glanced over
at the bed. She took in the pile of socks, boxers, and tee shirts that literally
covered the king sized bed. "Umm, the underwear elves have visited?"
Michael shook his head.
"Two for one sale at Whitie Tighties? Ugly Undies R
Us?"
"Maria! You rifled through my…."
“Unmentionables?” Maria shrugged. “Baby, you don’t
need all that extra cover. It just makes it hard to get to skin.”
Michael stood tapping his foot. He was not amused.
"Okay, so your clothing was poorly arranged. I thought
you could refold them..." Before she could finish speaking, Michael pounced
on her, shoving her down on the bed amidst the pile of tees and silk boxers.