Read The Keepers Story 01 - The Gatekeeper for Free Online

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    A man at the middle of the table was rolling. “Lucky seven, lucky seven!”
    The dice landed on four and three. The players applauded.
    Jimmy Taylor continued to ignore Saxon as the run continued. The same man rolled an eight next, and more money landed on the table. He hit several more numbers, and then an eight again. The table cheered. There was money everywhere.
    But Taylor didn’t seem happy. And when the roller came up with another seven, Taylor actually looked relieved, though sighs went up elsewhere around the table, along with some applause for the shooter, who’d made a lot of money for most of them.
    Taylor went to cash in. Saxon held his ground, putting down his money while the next shooter started. On a whim, he played a nice sum on craps. The shooter hit an eleven, and Saxon realized he was coming out ahead, a nice plus for his investigation.
    He watched as Jimmy collected his money and headed toward the bar. He waited through the next roll, then cashed in himself and headed back to the Tralee.
    There was Jimmy Taylor, his hands rough on a young waitress’s shoulders. Saxon was tempted to step in, but he reminded himself that he was playing for higher stakes. And he knew Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt the girl anyway—not in public, and not in one of Carl Bailey’s establishments.
    He followed when Jimmy left the bar. He thought at first that the guy was going to head upstairs, which could prove tricky. Carl’s men would be on him like an infestation of lice if he tried to go up to the rooms.
    But either Taylor didn’t know he was being followed or he didn’t care. Either way, he apparently had a destination in mind. Or maybe—Saxon warned himself—a plan.
    Taylor headed out to the streets. Saxon followed him down the neon strip, until he took a sudden turn into a back alley. Okay, so a plan it was.
    It occurred to Saxon long before he entered the obvious trap that he would need some help, which was easy enough to arrange. It was good to be a cop. But first he wanted about two minutes alone with Jimmy Taylor. After that, it would be great to have some help. He hit the speed dial on his phone and gave the code for “Officer in Need of Assistance.”
    Then he took a deep breath and ducked into the alley, keeping close to the wall of the building on his right, one of the smaller casinos and most likely another of Carl Bailey’s properties.
    There was a doorway marked Employee Entrance about thirty feet in, and Taylor was heading right for it.
    Saxon hurried past boxes and an overflowing Dumpster, and before Jimmy could put his hand on the doorknob, Saxon grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, forcing his thumb on a pressure point in the younger man’s throat as he slammed him against the door.
    “Where is she?” Saxon demanded.
    The other man couldn’t breathe, which made him desperate. He tried to make the change, no doubt intending to rip Saxon to shreds with his teeth and claws, but Saxon just increased the pressure on that vulnerable point. And if the other man couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t make the change.
    Jimmy sagged, giving up, and Saxon eased up just a hair, then repeated, “Where is she?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about, so kill me if you want to. But you’d better be quick. You’re going to die soon enough yourself.”
    “Not likely. You’ve got good hearing, right? I can already hear the sirens.”
    “Great. I’ll have you charged with police brutality,” Taylor told him.
    “Where’s your evidence? There’s not a mark on you. Now, you have thirty seconds before I put a shade more pressure on your neck and zap your nerves. You’ll be a paralyzed pup the rest of your life.”
    At last Taylor looked scared. “If I talk to you, I’m dead anyway!” he said.
    “Dead is probably better than the way I’m going to leave you,” Saxon said. “For the third time, where is she?”
    Taylor blinked. “You’re talking about that girl, right? That