The Final Bet

The neon lights of the Lucky Star Casino flickered against the night sky, casting a colorful glow over the bustling Strip. Detective Mia Torres stood outside, adjusting her collar against the brisk wind. A body had been found in the back alley, and she was determined to piece together the details before the night turned any darker.

“Detective Torres!” Officer Lee called, waving her over. “Over here.”

Mia made her way through the throng of gamblers and tourists to find Lee crouched beside a body, sprawled awkwardly on the damp pavement. The victim was a middle-aged man, his shirt stained with blood and a poker chip clutched tightly in his hand.

“Who is he?” Mia asked, kneeling beside the body.

“David Cross, known high-stakes player,” Lee replied, his expression serious. “Security footage shows he left the casino around 10 p.m. He never made it home.”

“Looks like he lost a bet he couldn’t pay,” Mia muttered, glancing at the poker chip, which was engraved with the number 27.

“Interesting choice of chip,” Lee remarked. “You think it means something?”

“Could be,” Mia said, standing up. “Let’s check with the casino staff and see if they can tell us more about his last game.”

Inside the casino, the atmosphere was electric, the sound of slot machines ringing and laughter echoing around them. Mia approached the pit boss, a burly man with a thick mustache.

“Can I help you?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Detective Torres. We’re investigating David Cross’s murder. What can you tell us about his last game?” she asked.

“David was playing roulette before he left,” the pit boss replied, scratching his head. “He lost a big pot, but he had been winning earlier in the night.”

“What was the last bet he made?” Mia inquired, her instincts kicking in.

The pit boss hesitated, then shrugged. “He placed everything on 27. It hit, but I guess he didn’t stick around to cash out.”

Mia’s heart raced. “Can you pull up the footage from that table?”

“Sure thing,” the pit boss said, leading her to the back office.

As the footage played, Mia watched David cheer as the ball landed on 27. He collected his winnings and left the table with a triumphant smile. But there was someone else at the table—an imposing figure in a black leather jacket, leaning in close to David as they exchanged words.

“Who’s that?” Mia asked, pointing at the figure.

“Don’t know,” the pit boss said. “Never seen him before.”

“Can we get a clearer image?” Mia asked.

After a few moments, the pit boss zoomed in. The man’s face came into focus, revealing a tattoo of a snake coiling around a dagger on his forearm.

“Do you know him?” Mia pressed, her mind racing.

“Yeah, that’s Tony ‘the Snake’ Ramirez,” the pit boss said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “He’s trouble. Runs with a dangerous crew.”

“Thanks for the info,” Mia said, her gut twisting. “I need to speak to him.”

“Good luck with that,” the pit boss replied, a warning in his eyes.

Mia left the casino, determination surging through her. She knew where to find Tony—his reputation for bartering at a nearby dive, The Rusty Nail, preceded him.

Inside the bar, smoke filled the air, and the sound of clinking glasses drowned out the muffled conversations. Mia spotted Tony sitting in the corner, a drink in hand, flanked by a couple of rough-looking men. She approached, her badge visible.

“Tony Ramirez,” she said, her voice steady. “We need to talk.”

Tony looked up, a smirk forming on his lips. “What’s the issue, officer? I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.”

“David Cross is dead. You were seen with him just before he left the casino,” Mia stated, leaning closer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony replied, feigning innocence. “I was just playing my game.”

“David hit on 27 and walked away with his winnings. Did you follow him?” she pressed.

Tony’s smirk faltered. “I didn’t kill him! We were just talking about the game. Maybe he crossed someone he shouldn’t have.”

“Is that why you were talking to him? To intimidate him?” Mia accused.

“I was trying to keep him out of trouble! He was in over his head, that’s all,” Tony snapped.

“Then why was he found with a poker chip in his hand and a knife wound in his back?” Mia challenged.

The tension in the room escalated as Tony’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape. “I swear, I didn’t do it!” he shouted, rising to his feet.

“Sit down!” Mia ordered, reaching for her cuffs. “You’re coming with me.”

As the bar’s patrons turned to watch the scene unfold, Tony glanced toward the exit, weighing his options. But Mia was ready. She had seen enough in her career to know when someone was lying.

“Your luck just ran out, Tony,” she said, stepping closer as her backup arrived. “Let’s see if you can talk your way out of this one.”

As Tony was cuffed and led away, Mia took a deep breath, feeling a sense of satisfaction. Another case closed, another criminal off the streets. But the thrill of the chase lingered in the air, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before another game began.