The powerful woman on the dais compels the guests’ attention, even before she speaks. All eyes turn to take in the dramatic entrance.
She grips the microphone with one white-gloved hand and begins her speech. “Ladies and gentlemen, Leticia Whitecloud welcomes you to the Hawk Island Floating Casino.”
A smattering of applause drifts through the crowd as the audience exchanges confused glances.
Trust me, I know exactly how they feel. I wish I could jump up on stage and let them all know that the woman in front of them is Leticia Whitecloud. That, in fact, Leticia Whitecloud talks about herself in the third person, and no matter how long they wait for what they believe will be the entrance of the aforementioned Leticia Whitecloud, she’s already on stage.
“Please enjoy the hors d’oeuvres and the cash bar. As per Liliané Barnes’ request, champagne will be complimentary all evening. Leticia Whitecloud would like you to know that all gambling is legitimate. If you lose you lose for real, if you win . . .” She exchanges an unreadable glance with her two goons. “Then, congratulations.”
The audience whispers in earnest, and I overhear the couple next to me. “Where’s this Leticia Whitecloud?” the elderly man asks as he taps his hearing aid.
The woman replies, “No idea, dear. Did she say this is real gambling? I thought it was for some charity or something.”
The man shrugs. “Well, I’m not gambling with real money.”
The woman, whom I take to be his wife, crosses her arms severely. “That’s for sure.”
Before I have a chance to discuss the inappropriateness of profiting off someone’s death, my dad grabs my arm and tugs me down a narrow passageway between the brilliantly lit railing and the roulette room.
“What’s going on?”
“She saw me.”
“Good. Let’s go have it out with her.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. In fact, I think we should try to avoid her for the rest of the evening.”
“Look, Dad, she’s the one who should’ve been in jail for life. How do you explain her walking free a few months later?”
Before my father can answer, a familiar monotone voice behind me says, “Money.”
I spin on my two-inch satin heels, and I’m face-to-face with Leticia Whitecloud.
For some reason, I always get the nervous grins around this woman. There she stands in all white, like an angel, and here I am in all red, like a devil. When, in fact, the roles are quite reversed.
“Leticia Whitecloud does not see the humor in this meeting, Ms. Moon.”
The bodyguard named Jimmy, if I remember correctly, is approaching from behind my father.
My extra senses pick up on a surge of anger and overprotectiveness from my father as he widens his stance.
“Don’t do anything stupid, all right, Dad?”
“You should listen to your wise daughter, Jacob Duncan.”
Ignoring her attempt to incite a reaction from my father, I go on the offensive. “So you bribed your way out of jail, Ms. Whitecloud?”
“Leticia Whitecloud is a law-abiding sovereign citizen. My attorney simply made that clear to the court.”
Jimmy puts a hand on my father’s shoulder.
Before I can utter a warning, my dad grips his wrist, fully flips the guy through the air, over his shoulder, and onto his back. And as Jimmy hits the deck, my father yanks the gun out of Jimmy’s shoulder holster, pulls me toward him, and aims the pistol at Leticia.
“Stay down, Jimmy.” The harsh edge in my father’s voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
“Leticia Whitecloud doesn’t think felons are meant to have guns, Duncan.”
I reach a shaky hand toward my father’s wrist. “Dad, please give me the gun.”
Fear and frustration roll off him in waves. He doesn’t hand me the gun, but he doesn’t resist as I carefully slip it out of his grasp.
However, I don’t return the weapon to the muscle. Instead, I address Leticia with the added encouragement of the gun aimed at her midsection. “Do you mind telling me how you managed to get involved in this memorial service?”
Jimmy is clearly not as intimidated by me as he was by my father, and he slowly gets to his feet, placing his body directly in the line of fire.
The narrow passageway doesn’t allow me to get a better angle, so I calmly keep the weapon trained on the nearest target.
Leticia’s voice replies from behind the broad shoulders of her protector. “We are acquainted with the deceased’s husband.”
The three of them chuckle briefly.
“It looks like we’re all going to be on this boat together for the next two hours, Ms. Whitecloud. I’m going to hang on to this gun. You and your—employees—steer clear of me and my dad, and we’ll do the same. I’m sure it wouldn’t take long for Sheriff Harper to intercept your little floating tax shelter. Do we understand one another?”
Jimmy looks toward my father, and, if I didn’t know better, they seem to be exchanging some silent agreement. But before I have time to analyze that, Leticia replies, “You may appear to be the deer, but you are the wolf. Leticia Whitecloud respects this.”
I manage to do my best impression of a Robert De Niro head nod and slip the gun into my handbag.
Jimmy turns and escorts his boss below decks.
My dad immediately reaches for my handbag.
“Hey, have you taken to purse snatching now?”
My inappropriate dark humor does the trick. My father chuckles softly. “Actually, I want to make sure you have the safety on that thing, Don Corleone.”
“Copy that.”
Once he’s confirmed that the safety is on, he snaps my handbag closed and walks toward the bar.
I hesitantly grab his sleeve, eager to avoid a fate similar to Jimmy’s. “Um, Dad, you want to tell me what’s going on between you and Whitecloud’s goon?”
He turns. “What do you— Never mind. I should know better than to try to sneak anything past you and all your special senses.”
I cross my arms, tilt my head, and wait for an answer to my question.
“This stays between us. Just us, understood?”
Despite my rebellious nature, there’s something in my father’s tone that compels agreement. “I promise. Just between us.”
“When I was locked up in Clearwater, Jimmy’s son got done for a dime. Based on what we know about Leticia, it’s hard to say if the kid was guilty, or if he was another pawn in her great game of ruining lives.”
I nod. “So you’re saying Jimmy’s not loyal to her?”
My father shakes his head fervently. “I’m not saying that at all. Jimmy will go to the grave protecting her. But one of the opposing gangs cornered Jimmy’s son in the yard. I’m pretty sure they would’ve killed him if I hadn’t stepped in.”
My throat tightens, my eyes mist with emotion, and I lift my chin. “Why would you do that? Why would you risk your life for someone you didn’t even know?”
He exhales slowly. “Jimmy and I went to school together. He wasn’t always a two-bit criminal. His kid was barely nineteen, had his whole life ahead of him. I guess I couldn’t stop myself.”
I dab my finger under my eyes to prevent any telltale mascara streaks. “Didn’t they just turn on you?”