Detroit newspaper. “College Student Arrested in Card Scam” the headline read. She skimmed it, then went to the next one, as the story came back to her.
She’d been just a kid at the time, thirteen or fourteen years old, but in Vegas, the story had been all over the papers. Back then, she’d admired the daredevil teenaged card shark who’d taken his tricks on the road to Atlantic City and Las Vegas, cheating the casinos and card rooms out of almost a million dollars. His sleight of hand had been so subtle that it had taken the security systems months to catch him. But finally, they did.
The kid’s high-priced lawyer had used his client’s youth to play on the judge’s sympathy, and ultimately William Tanner Wingate had received only probation for his crimes, plus restitution to the casinos. The restitution had been the easy part. He hadn’t spent any of the money.
The probation would have been harder. Twenty years. Hope looked at the date on the news story. It had all happened nineteen years ago, and Tanner Wingate was still on probation—would be on probation for another year, it looked like.
He was probably still cheating, too. She’d seen him practicing those card tricks at the bar, and in her experience, once a cheat, always a cheat. A leopard couldn’t change his spots.
At least that explained why she’d recognized his name. As a nineteen-year-old, he’d probably been the most famous card player in the country.
“Breakfast is ready,” Faith said, putting a platter on the table.
Amber put the pitcher of maple syrup on the table. “What did you find out about Tanner?”
Hope switched screens before Amber could see any of the headlines.
“Not much. Come on, let’s eat.”
There wasn’t any reason to sully Amber’s heroes. After all, she’d probably never see him again.
Hope was back at the casino, ready to play, by eleven a.m. That would give her a solid four hours before she had to take Baby shopping again at three-thirty. Her remaining chips dug in her jeans pocket. She would not fixate on the two thousand dollars she’d lost yesterday. That was old news. Today she’d start fresh.
She met Marty at the gaudy floral arrangement in the hotel lobby as they’d arranged. When she arrived, he was already there, sitting on one of the hotel’s small, gilt chairs, drinking coffee out of a paper cup and looking as out of place as a bookie at a dance recital.
“Little Hope,” he said, when he saw her. He patted her shoulder and smiled affectionately. “Hey. Let’s go.”
“Weary told me about last night,” he said as they entered the casino and headed for the card room. “Sorry I couldn’t make it. I was in the middle of something.”
A straight flush, Hope thought, smiling. It was probably just as well Marty hadn’t seen her meltdown, too. Fortunately the women’s restroom off the card room was way too small to have accommodated all the uncles at the same time. If they’d all squeezed in there, they’d have looked like a Marx Brothers routine.
“But I was thinking. About the two large,” Marty said. “Especially now, when you gotta pump up your stake.”
That’s what Weary had said last night, Hope realized. Figure out what you did wrong. Evidently Marty had a plan.
“I gotta plan,” Marty said.
Hope stopped in the middle of the casino floor and beamed at him. “You’re the best,” she said. She put her arms around him and gave him a hug.
“Hey, what?” Marty said, startled and embarrassed. “What did I do? Come on. Stop.”
“Okay,” Hope said, letting go. “What’s the plan?”
“We gotta be careful about it,” Marty said, and Hope felt her dreams fade.
“Nothing illegal,” she said.
“Oh.” Marty looked thoughtful. “Well, it’s not illegal.”
“If it’s not illegal, what is it, then?” It would have to be something.
Marty glanced at her, cleared his throat. “Well. Ah. It’s, ah, disliked. Probably. Yeah. Disliked.”
“Disliked?”
“Here’s the plan.” Marty took Hope aside. “You know about them kids from MIT.”
Hope nodded. Who didn’t? In the eighties and nineties, a bunch of really smart kids at MIT had figured out how to win at cards by beating the odds. They watched tables and counted which cards had been played. When tables had a disproportionately large number of high-value cards left to play, they placed big bets, knowing that although they would lose sometimes, they had a higher proportionate chance of winning big, too. The students won possibly millions of dollars before they were discovered. But when the casinos finally figured out the