The Tessa Randolph Collection, Books 1-3 by Paula Lester (good short books .TXT) 📕

carrying drink trays to the gamblers, most of whom, she realized, had the look of Mr. Sanborn. Chubby, bald, or both—with hairy triceps. They stared at the machines without paying attention to much else.

Tessa began to snake through the tangled path of slot machines, clearly set up to dissuade people from finding their way out. As she went, she kept an eye out for the goons. She didn’t catch a glimpse of either man, but she did see a guy she knew a little from her waitressing job at Frank’s restaurant. He was playing blackjack in a side room. She darted past the doorway so he wouldn’t see her.

The guy was someone she’d always groaned to see coming into the restaurant. Another Chet Sanborn type. He had a horrible, ill-fitting toupee of thick black hair that swooped over his forehead. She’d watched it fall into his face a time or two when he’d slumped over the bar. He was missing a front tooth. But he put out airs like a suave gentleman, donning a fake Italian accent and making unwanted advances on all the waitresses.

What’s his name again? Ricardo Vidale.

Tessa kept wandering through the crowd, and slowly it occurred to her that a lot of people were wearing tank tops like the ones Mr. Sanford always wore when he was alive. Purple, aqua, white, and orange ones that all said MRC on them. Mist River Casino.

It was all starting to make sense. Too much sense. Sanborn must’ve frequented the casino.

“Miss Randolph?”

The barked words made Tessa jump. She whirled around. It was Maddox and Horner.

“Um. Yes?”

How had they spotted her? Her eyes floated up to a security camera mounted near the ceiling. Ugh!

“Come with us, ma’am,” Horner said. “Our boss would very much like to have a word.”

The goon’s thick hand closed around her elbow, giving Tessa no choice but to go with him. She saw Ricardo glance her direction as they passed the blackjack table. Recognition flitted across his features.

They headed for a door at the back of the small room.

For half a second, Tessa wished she was back at the restaurant dealing with misogynistic Ricardo. It had to be better than being escorted by two guys into the dark recesses of a casino where, as she understood it, she was about to be interrogated.

Chapter 7

TESSA WAS GLAD TO ENCOUNTER a few other people in the hallways. She’d hate to find herself alone with the odd couple who bounced insults at each other over her head like some weird monkey in the middle game.

Maddox, with his man bun coming loose and bobbing side to side, was in front. His height meant long strides Tessa had to hurry to keep up with.

“I’m just saying,” he shot over his shoulder. “You’re going to die of a heart attack one of these days. Plus, eating meat is gross. I’ve been vegan for ten years, and I’m loving it.”

Behind Tessa, Horner snorted. “That explains a lot, kid. Nobody gets strong on bean sprouts and coconut milk. I imagine there’s some avocado toast in your future.” His rumbling chuckle was full of derision.

“At least my cholesterol is normal. And I don’t have high blood pressure. You look a little red in the cheeks, there, buddy—like maybe walking down this hallway is too much work for you.”

Maddox turned down another hallway and rested his hand on a doorknob, pausing to raise an eyebrow. “Don’t worry. You can take a rest while we talk to Chino.” His gaze cut to Tessa, and his features hardened. “Our boss wants to talk to you. Be sure you keep a respectful tone, or—"

“Or what?” Tessa said, emboldened.

“Or you’re bound to dislike what happens,” Horner warned.

Tessa glared at him. She held her tongue and followed Maddox through the doorway into an office three times as big as her apartment’s living room.

“Wow.” She stopped short and looked around. The room resembled a chic penthouse room in a fancy hotel. One wall was consumed by a huge fireplace surrounded by pale brick and set off with a mahogany mantlepiece holding a single ornate gold and black clock that looked like an antique.

Queen Anne furniture in cream, sage, and purple was prominent in the room, along with classy violet and beige carpeting that lent the space a femininity Tessa hadn’t expected. The smokey air of the rest of the casino was gone. So were the sounds of slot machines, replaced by the whir of the room’s ventilation system.

A middle-aged woman sat behind a desk made of some type of pale wood—maybe maple or oak—intricately carved on the edges. The word that came to mind when Tessa saw it was delicate.

The woman wore a pale pink suit coat over a ruffled white shirt. Auburn hair was piled high on her head, and her eyebrows had been plucked and shaped just a touch too much, leaving her looking more surprised than she probably was. The heavy-handed use of dark brow liner did nothing to relieve the odd expression.

The woman tipped her head. “You found her? That’s not what you said on the phone.”

“She showed up here, Ms. Chino.” Horner ducked his head and folded callused hands in an obvious show of respect. “We saw her on the surveillance cameras and brought her back for you.”

Ms. Chino’s eyes flicked to Tessa. “I’m surprised you came here. I’d thought you’d have left the county by now.”

Tessa chuckled. Maybe she’d been wrong about Ms. Chino’s eyebrows. Maybe the woman was truly surprised to see her. Then her face hardened—the best it could with the bad brow job—and Tessa knew she’d made a mistake.

“Why would I leave the county? By the way, I’m Tessa Randolph.” She strode forward, holding out a hand. “And you are . . .?”

Without taking Tessa’s hand, the woman stood, revealing that she wore a pencil skirt that matched the suit coat and shiny beige pumps. “Melinda Chino. I manage the Mist River Casino and Hotel. And from this point on, I’ll