Against The Odds (Anna Dawson Book 1): Anna Dawson Mystery Series by Mara Jacobs

Author:Mara Jacobs [Jacobs, Mara]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781940993904
Publisher: Copper Country Press LLC
Published: 2013-12-09T00:00:00+00:00

A cab waited for us at the bottom. Apparently Ralph hadn’t been too pissed to leave us to our own devices. That, or he was too afraid of whoever got us into the game.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“The Om –” I started to give directions but Jack put his hand on my knee and squeezed.

“The Hilton,” he said and the driver put the car in gear.

I looked at Jack and he gave just the slightest shake of his head. I stayed silent for the ride.

When we got to the Hilton, he took my hand and led me to the lobby bar, which was just opening up with fresh coffee and some pastries.

“Bourbon. Neat,” he said to the bartender. He looked at me and I shook my head. “Make it two,” he added.

“Sir, the bar closed hours ago. We do have fresh coffee and some pastries if you—” the bartender stopped in mid-sentence as Jack slid a hundred dollar bill across the bar to him. “Two bourbons, neat,” the bartender repeated and disappeared behind a swinging door. Taking the hundred with him.

Jack swiveled the barstool from the front to the side, facing me. “We have about four minutes—or however long it takes that kid to pour some drinks—before I’m officially off duty so…” He rubbed his hand across his face, looking as tired as I felt. “I’m not even going to ask you why—or how—you were at that game. Just what do you think right now?”

I was so taken aback that he wasn’t going to chastise me that it took a second to put my practiced defenses to the side. “I think we need to look at Chuck. And Ralph,” I said. “You saw his fist clench when Chuck was talking?”

Jack nodded. “What about Len?”

“Yeah, him too. It was just too easy. He could have been trying to get an advantage on a fellow player by busting his chops, and we were talking about the Steelers, but…”

“Yeah. But.” Jack was looking beyond me, his wheels turning.

The bartender came back, setting two glasses down in front of us. At least Jack got a lot of drink for his money; the glasses were full to the top. “Thanks,” was all Jack said and the bartender went down to the other end of the bar.

I pushed mine in front of Jack, but other than his original acknowledgement when the bartender set them down, he didn’t seem to notice they were there.

Or, he was trying to ignore them.

“Anything else?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It could have been nothing. Chuck, Ralph and Len. It could have just been good friends ragging on each other about some small time bet they had with each other years ago.”

“But you don’t believe that?”

“No,” I said quietly. “I think one of those guys was the big money that lost out in Super Bowl XIII.”

“And therefore has revenge as a motive to hurt The Corporation,” he finished my thought.

“Yes.”

He nodded. He took a deep breath, swiveled in his chair and looked down at the drinks in front of him.

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