Right again. What better way for a mind reader to make a living than playing high stakes poker, always knowing what cards opponents held and what they planned to do with them?
This time, her guess didn't faze him as much as the first had. Knowing he was from Vegas, it wasn't such a great leap to guess he gambled. "Tell me more," he said.
Again, Bridget squinted at him, lifting her hair, letting it fall. "You have heart trouble," she said.
Virgil tried very hard not to let on that she had shaken him. He squirmed under her gaze, combing his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair.
How? How could she know?
"Yes," he said, nodding. Three months ago, a heart attack had laid him out in the middle of a poker game. Now, flexible mesh tubing held two of his blocked arteries open.
But
