House Edge Read online

  House Edge

  Book 2

  Spotted Pony Casino Mystery

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

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  Chapter One

  “How could you do this to my family. My People?”

  Dela Alvaro, head of security for the Spotted Pony Casino, moved closer to the gaming tables. Surveillance had reported there was a couple at the blackjack table arguing more than they were playing. That usually meant they were trying to draw attention away from someone else stealing.

  “It’s not a done deal,” the well-dressed man in his thirties, said. He had a clean-shaven face and a loosened necktie. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him.

  “You are like a brother to them. How could you?” The woman’s heart-shaped face had deep lines of frustration embedded in her forehead.

  A crowd had started to gather. There was nothing the locals liked better than to watch a soap opera being played out by non-rez casino goers.

  “Stacy, I want a good future for us.” The man grabbed the woman’s wrist. His fingers slid off as she jerked her arm away.

  “There is no future if you go through with what your company wants over what the People need.” She spun on her heels and ran for the elevator, shouting at someone in the conveyance to hold the door.

  The man who had argued with the woman scanned the area and strode toward the elevator.

  Dela spoke into the mic clipped to her shirt. “Anyone know that couple?”

  “He’s part of the summit going on this week,” a voice through her earbuds said.

  She walked over to the entrance of the event center and picked up a flyer from the table stationed by the poster for the SAVE OUR FISH event. The photo on the front of the flyer matched the man. Kevin Silva, executive VP of environment, fish and wildlife, with the Hells Canyon Power Company in Idaho. The summit was about breaching four dams in Idaho to help the dwindling salmon, steelhead, and lamprey populations.

  Dela had read about this situation in the local and tribal newspapers. The fish that would be aided by taking out the dams had been food staples for the Indigenous People of the Pacific Northwest for generations. Fish and Wildlife agencies had tried everything, including building state-of-the-art fish hatcheries to keep the fish population up, but even that wasn’t working. They were down to drastic measures that many people didn’t like.

  Pulling out her cell phone, Dela dialed Shona White, the events coordinator for the casino.

  “Hello?” Shona answered.

  “Shona, it’s Dela. Can you tell me if Kevin Silva checked into the hotel with anyone?”

  “Yes. His wife, Stacy. We had a brief conversation. She is Nez Perce and Coeur d’Alene.”

  “Did they seem to be getting along when you met them?” Dela wondered at the falling out they had tonight at the gaming tables. Did the husband gamble too much?

  “Oh, they were loving and seemed to be making the most of this trip.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dela put her phone away and returned to her nightly duties. It appeared something had happened to change the tone of the couple’s trip.

  As head of security for the Spotted Pony Casino, Dela didn’t have to be at the casino on busy nights. She could have kept the same daytime schedule as her predecessor, but she felt she was needed more during the busy hours than when the casino floor was slow.

  It was eleven p.m. and other than the argument at the blackjack table, this Wednesday night had been uneventful. Going home sounded like a good option. Mugshot would be happy to see her so early and it would give her a chance to check out the work Travis and his crew did today on her house.

  She never worked the same hours. It kept everyone, especially her security staff, on their toes. As long as she was on a salary, she made her own schedule and worked as many hours as she wanted.

  Dela entered the security office and opened the cabinet by her desk. She pulled out her purse.

  “You going home?” Marie asked.

  Dela faced the security officer standing at the entrance where employees, off-site technicians, and deliveries came through at the back of the building. “Yes. It’s quiet and Kenny is here. I have a dog waiting for me at home.”

  She walked over, tapped her security card on the keypad, and the door opened.

  “Enjoy what’s left of your night,” Marie said, as Dela exited.

  “I will.” Thoughts of a cold beer, putting her stub up, and petting Mugshot made her smile.

  On the three-mile drive to her “new to her” home, she envisioned what she would find. She’d been looking for a place to rent when she and FBI Agent Quinn Pierce drove to Tutuilla Flats to question a murder suspect a few months earlier. She’d spotted a rundown house for sale and knew it was the perfect place for her and Mugshot. She’d just acquired the pony-sized, three-legged dog and needed a place for him to hang out while she was at work.

  The one and a half acres were more than she needed, but it kept her neighbors at a distance. There was no need for someone to call the police if she yelled out in frustration over her missing lower right leg.

  Pulling up to the house, the outdoor light came on. Travis had insisted she needed motion detector lights so all those late nights she came home from the casino, the lights would come on for her to get from the car to the house.

  Mugshot’s happy bark greeted her as she walked up to the front door and let herself in. She dropped her purse on the only chair in the living room and walked straight over to the French doors Travis had installed in place of the large paned sliding door in the dining room area.

  She unlocked and opened the door.

  Mugshot shoved his head, the size of a basketball, against her and waited for her to scratch his ears and tell him he was a good boy. Then he stepped into the house and made his way to the large dog bed next to the chair.

  Her mother had been afraid the dog would knock her over, and the two amputees would be hurt. But Mugshot seemed to understand that she couldn’t hold him up if he fell and while he liked to be scratched and hugged now and then, he made certain to stay out of her way.

  “I’m going to get changed and grab something to drink, then I’ll be right there.” She went into the bedroom, undressed, took off her prosthesis, and put on her pajamas. Then she used her crutches to return to the kitchen, get a beer and a box of crackers, and settle in the chair. Placing her refreshments on the side table, she picked up the TV controls and turned on a murder mystery show. She ate her snack while petting Mugshot and watching the mind-numbing television.

  ♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

  The ring of her phone and Mugshot nudging her arm woke Dela. She patted the dog’s head as she reached for the phone.

  “Dela,” she answered and glanced at the clock. The red numbers revealed 10:00. The s
un reflected through the shade she kept drawn in this room.

  “It’s Bruce. Housekeeping has reported a dead person in room ten-twenty.”

  She sat up and scrubbed a hand over her face. “Who is it?”

  “The occupant. Kevin Silva.”

  Chapter Two

  Dela arrived at room 1020 as Tribal Police Detective Jones stepped out into the hallway. She loathed the Caucasian man because of his disregard for Indigenous culture and the way he treated everyone around him. She’d heard rumors he was retiring. It wouldn’t be soon enough for her.

  “I wondered when you’d show up,” he said.

  “Got here as quick as I could after receiving the call.” She wasn’t about to tell him that on the way in, she’d talked to Bruce and had been filled in on how Rae, in housekeeping, found the body and that they couldn’t find the wife anywhere on the premises.

  “There was no need for you to hurry down. We have this under control.”

  A tribal officer leaned out of the room and studied her. “Dela, good to see you made it. You might want to take a look around.”

  She did a double-take, then smiled. Heath Seaver, a person she hadn’t seen since high school. Grandfather Thunder had said his nephew was moving back to the reservation.

  She smiled at Detective Dick, as she called him, and followed her former classmate into the room. Dela waved a hand up and down in front of him. “I didn’t even know you were a policeman, and here you are dressed in a tribal uniform.”

  Heath grinned and she couldn’t stop smiling back at him. They had dated their junior year. He’d been the closest thing to a confidante she’d had back then. She’d had girls who were friends and were still friends to this day, but she hadn’t told any of them how she yearned to know more about her father. Heath had understood. He also grew up not knowing his father. His mother refused to talk about the man.

  “Not just a tribal policeman, I’m also a certified MDI.” He pulled latex gloves on and handed her a pair.

  “You are a Medicolegal Death Investigator? I knew they had hired someone who had that capability.” She pulled the gloves on.

  “I’ve already called the Pendleton Office.” He motioned toward the body still sitting in a chair.

  By the Pendleton Office, he meant the FBI. It wouldn’t be long and she’d be facing FBI Special Agent Quinn Pierce. She still owed the man a visit to her new home. She’d offered him an open invitation, but every time he’d called, she came up with an excuse to keep him away. Dela knew it was cowardice, but she was afraid if she let him in, she’d like it too much and she wasn’t ready to tell this particular man all of her secrets.

  “Dela?” Heath stood in front of her, waving his hand back and forth before her face.

  “Sorry. My mind wandered.”

  Heath studied her for a few seconds and handed her the little booties everyone else in the room had on.

  She slipped the paper covers over her shoes and moved farther into the room.

  Heath motioned toward the victim. “I understand he and his wife had a fight down in the casino last night?”

  “Yes.” She focused on the body. “The conversation didn’t make any sense.” She stood as close as she could without possibly stepping on evidence. The man’s face was puffy as well as his neck down to where there was an electrical cord dangling from the indention in his neck. The man had been handsome in life. In death, he was hard to look at. “Strangulation?”

  “Yeah. With the cord from that lamp.” He nodded toward the table. The cord was still attached to the lamp.

  “Premeditated or spur of the moment?” she asked.

  “I’d say spur of the moment, but we won’t know until you figure it out.”

  She shot a glance at the tall, Indigenous man, smiling down at her. His smile was infectious, but she didn’t understand his comment. “I’m not the police.”

  “But you seem to get wrapped up in anything that happens at the casino. Grandfather Thunder told me all about the missing women, the human traffickers, and the body shoved in the laundry chute. He said you solved all of them.”

  “With help.” Quinn’s deep voice pulled her gaze from Heath’s handsome face to the special agent’s.

  “That’s true. Special Agent Pierce was kind enough to drive me around so I could gather the evidence.” Dela walked over to the closet to see if the wife had taken her clothing with her when she’d left. As she studied the contents, she kept one eye on the two men, now sizing each other up.

  “Special Agent Quinn Pierce,” the FBI agent said, holding his hand out to Heath.

  “Heath Seaver, MDI with the Tribal Police.”

  They shook and Quinn walked over to stand beside Dela who’d ducked into the bathroom. “What do you know about the victim?”

  She glanced at the sink, countertop, and shower before stepping out of the room. Watching Heath do his job, she relayed why the victim was at the casino, what she’d witnessed the night before, and the fact there were still women’s clothing in the closet but no toiletries in the bathroom.

  “Do you think the wife did this and ran?” Quinn asked.

  Dela shook her head slowly. “I didn’t get the vibe she was that angry. She was more disappointed. Like he’d let her down.”

  “I had my guys look up info on the couple when I received the call. Mrs. Silva has family on the reservation. Let’s go see if that’s where she ran off to.” Quinn motioned for her to leave the room as another tribal police officer joined the group in the room collecting evidence.

  They were halfway to the elevator when Heath caught up to them. “I’ll let you know what else the medical examiner finds when she signs off on the body. I’ll transport the body to Clackamas and stay for the autopsy there.”

  Quinn stopped. “What authority do you have to go with the body?”

  Heath grinned. “Detective Jones told me to discover all I could about the body. You can join me if you want.”

  Quinn glared at Heath. “I don’t have time to run across the state to watch the autopsy. Just see the body is brought back and I get a copy of the report.”

  Heath saluted Quinn, winked at Dela, and ducked back into the room. Dela suppressed a snicker. That was the Heath she remembered in school. Always thumbing his nose at authority. Which brought her to, how had he ended up in law enforcement?

  “You could give me the information on Mrs. Silva’s family, then you could go with Heath to the Oregon State Medical Examiner’s Office.” Dela held her phone in her hands ready to type in the address or name of the family.

  Quinn studied her. “You find this amusing that someone is undermining me, don’t you?”

  “A little. How’s it feel to be treated as if your work doesn’t matter?” She knew it was petty to bring up the event in Iraq that had her hating Quinn for a long time.

  “Are you ever going to see I did what I did because it was my duty?” Quinn asked, grasping her arm.

  They’d talked this to death and it still irked her. Dela shook out of his hold and changed the subject. “I’m sure if Heath has been trained as one of the tribal MDI, he is capable of escorting the body and standing in on the autopsy.” She glanced back at the room where the man had disappeared. When Grandfather Thunder had told her his nephew was coming to work at the reservation, she’d been pleased to know she would have another friend in the area. Now she wished Quinn was going with the body so she and Heath could catch up.

  “Do you know him?” Quinn asked as they stopped at the elevator.

  “We went to school together. He is a nephew of Grandfather Thunder. I knew he was coming to work at the reservation. I just didn’t know he was in law enforcement.”

  That seemed to appease Quinn. He punched the button for down, and they waited. “How come you always blow me off when I have time to come see your new place?” He continued to stare at the elevator door.

  Her gut tumbled. “Because I’m busy. It’s still not ready for guests.” And she didn’t want him t
o see the shiny new handicapped bars in the bathroom.

  “I know you are remodeling. You saw my house in its worst state. I’m not expecting it to be perfect.”

  The door opened and they stepped in.

  She sighed. “I’m not ready for anyone to see how I live.”

  His eyebrow went up. “See how you live? Do you live some kind of kinky life I don’t know about?”

  She glared at him. “In your dreams. I’m just not ready to share all of my life with anyone yet.”

  “I’m not asking you to marry me. Just let me see what you’ve done to the house.” He stared at her.

  “My life is complicated and so is how I live.” The elevator settled on the ground floor and she stepped out. “Where are we going?”

  “The Rose family out near Wildhorse Mountain,” Quinn said, as they strode across the casino floor. He kept his stride restrained to not overtake her.

  “That would be Melba and Butch. How are they related to Mrs. Silva?” Dela nodded to the daytime valet. If Alfred, the nighttime valet, were still on duty, they’d know more about the couple. He had a keen sense of people and watched everything.

  Quinn walked to his SUV. “Mrs. Silva is their niece by marriage or something like that.”

  They climbed in and he drove off, headed north to Highway 11. About thirteen miles on Highway11 they made a right onto Wildhorse Road.

  “Did you happen to find anyone who could tell you this is where she went?” Dela wondered if the woman had been so upset with her husband she’d left before he was killed. But she could have also killed her husband and left as well. Wildhorse Mountain was a good forty-five minutes from the casino.

  Quinn’s phone rang. He answered it through the vehicle. “Special Agent Quinn. You’re on speaker. I have Dela Alvaro, head of security at the casino, with me.”

  “You asked for information on the Silvas.” The agent went on to say who the man worked for and how much the company would lose if the dams were breached and how the company had been trying to get a better name for itself.

  “What about the wife?” Dela asked when the agent had stopped reading the report.