She slipped the man at the door a dollar and he allowed them in. Mamie followed her up the stairs and into the single large gaming room. Tables were spread out on the bare wooden floor, the cracked plaster on the walls giving the place a haunted appearance. Rough-looking men walked the perimeter, their keen eyes on the tables. The place smelled of sweat, perfume and damp. Florence nearly rubbed her hands together, eager to get to it.

“Well, this is charming,” Mamie drawled under her breath. “How did you ever find this place?”

“Never mind that. Let’s play.”

Mamie started for the roulette tables but Florence paused. She thought about her lessons with Clay. If she wanted to win, perhaps she should stick with twenty-one. After all, that game had the best odds. She touched her sister’s arm. “I’m going to play over there.”

“Not roulette? You love roulette.”

“I know, but I thought I’d test my skills at cards instead.”

“I’m sticking with roulette.”

They split up, Mamie walking to the far side of the room toward the roulette tables, and Florence to the card tables. Two older men were currently playing twenty-one. Florence took an empty chair, withdrew a small pile of bills from her handbag and turned them over to the dealer for chips.

The play went at a steady pace. Florence recalled Clay’s advice, that each hand had its own odds and never to think beyond what was in front of her. It was relaxing, the shuffling and dealing, the watching and betting. Easy to lose track of time. She won more than she lost, and soon found herself in possession of an enormous stack of chips.

“You’re doing well,” one of the men playing at the table said. “You must tell us your secret.”

Florence smiled as she peeked at her cards and discovered a total of nineteen. “There is no secret. I’m just lucky, I guess.”

The dealer observed her carefully, paying more attention to Florence than the other players. Unsurprising, as Florence was the player consistently winning. The other two had hardly any chips left. “Another card, miss?” he asked.

“No, I’ll stay.”

The other two players both asked for cards and ended up busting out. The dealer took one card and totaled over twenty-one. Florence won again.

As the dealer counted out her winnings, she noted the way his gaze searched the room. What or who was he searching for? When he seemed to find his quarry, she glanced over her shoulder. The man who’d been pacing the floor, overseeing play, was staring at the dealer, some message communicated between them. Florence paused in stacking her chips, uneasiness skittering down her spine. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. What reason had she to worry?

After another hand, the same man appeared at Florence’s elbow. It was the floor manager. “Miss, come with me.”

She blinked at him. “Me? Whatever for?”