幸运女郎 英文中篇名著｜第4章

We all piled into the elevator and took it to the casino level. Snuggy and Diesel walked off toward the blackjack tables. Lula headed for roulette. And Connie and I followed Grandma to her favorite video poker machine.

“I can feel a big payday coming up,” Grandma said. “I was just getting warmed up before.”

We got Grandma settled in, and Connie nudged me.

“Look across the aisle at the blackjack table closest to us,” Connie said. “I think that’s Billy Major in the striped shirt.”

Billy Major has a stable of hookers who work the projects. To my knowledge, he’s never been arrested for procuring. However, he has been arrested several times for possession of controlled substances, and the latest charge was outstanding. Billy Major was on my list of active skips. Major failed to appear for his court appearance, and until this moment, I hadn’t been able to locate him. Probably because I was looking in Trenton, and he obviously was in Atlantic City.

I had a credit card and twenty dollars in my back pocket. My purse with all my bounty hunter paraphernalia was upstairs in Grandma’s room. “I haven’t got any equipment on me,” I said to Connie.

Connie’s purse was on her shoulder. She rooted around in it and came up with cuffs and a stun gun and a semi-automatic Smith & Wesson .45. I took the cuffs and stun gun and left her with the Smith & Wesson. Connie was a lot tougher than I was, but capturing felons was on my side of the division of labor.

I wedged the duffel bag with the remaining money between Grandma’s stool and the poker machine. “I’ll be right back,” I told her. “In the meantime, keep your eye on the money.”

I crossed the aisle and stood behind Major for a couple minutes, watching him play. I had the cuffs tucked into the back pocket of my jeans and the stun gun in my sweatshirt pocket. The dealer shuffled the cards, and I leaned over Major.

“Excuse me,” I said, close to his ear. “Billy Major?”

“Yeah.”

He turned and looked at me, and recognition registered. This wasn’t the first time I’d apprehended him.

“Oh shit,” Major said.

I clapped a cuff on him, and he yelped and jumped, knocking into the gaming table, sending chips flying. Everyone stood, the dealer called for security, overturned drinks dripped onto the carpet.

I struggled to get the second cuff on Major. “Bond enforcement. Hold still!”

“Fuck this,” Major said, ripping the cuffs out of my hands, taking off for the exit on the far side of the room.

He had a head start, but he was hampered by high-heeled boots and forty pounds of gold chains hanging around his neck. He was plowing into people, but I was trying to be careful, dodging cocktail waitresses and casino guests. He crashed into an old woman with a walker and stumbled, and I took a flying leap and tackled him. My momentum took us to the ground.

I’ve never had formal martial arts training. Mostly, I rely on the fact that men tend to underestimate my desperation. I curled my fingers into Major’s shirt, knowing casino security would help secure him if I could just hang on until they arrived. We were tumbling around, and I caught a flash of gold in my peripheral vision and realized it was Lula.

“Outta my way,” Lula said.

I rolled off, and Lula sat down hard on Major. Major let out a woof of air, farted, and went inert.

An old man looked down at Major. “He’s dead.”

Lula got off Major, I attached the second cuff, and Major still didn’t move. We all took a closer look.

“I might have seen him breathe just then,” Lula said.

“I got a defibrillator on my Rascal,” someone said. “You want to try to jump-start him?”

“I got oxygen,” someone else said.

Lula got her foot under Major and turned him over. His eyes were open. His lips were pressed tight together.

“Christ,” Major said through clenched teeth.

“He just got breathless,” Lula said. “I have that effect on men on account of I’m a supermodel.”

The security guys had arrived and were mixed in with the gawkers. The gawkers looked like they were enjoying themselves, but security didn’t look happy.

Connie pushed her way through the crowd, corralled the senior rent-a-cop, showed him her documentation, and vouched for me as her representative. The gawkers began to disperse, and two tables down, I could see Diesel smiling at me. I flipped him the bird, and the smile widened.

“What are we gonna do with this fool?” Lula wanted to know. “I’d take him back, but I got my photo shoot tomorrow morning. I’m sleeping here so I wake up fresh as a daisy. Grandma said I could bunk with her. She’s got that big ol’ suite with a pull-out couch.”

“I’ll take him,” Connie said. “I haven’t got my gambling mojo going today. Let me borrow your Firebird, and I’ll give you my thousand.”

“Deal,” Lula said. “I’m feeling hot. I probably don’t need the extra thousand, but I’ll take it just in case.”

We dragged Major to his feet and walked him out of the casino into the parking garage. We got shackles out of the trunk of Lula’s car, trussed Major up, and put him into the backseat. Connie got behind the wheel, and we watched her drive away.

“That was lucky,” Lula said. “We caught a scumbag. And we didn’t even kill him.”

The casino was relatively empty when we returned to the gaming floor. The day-players were settling themselves into their buses. The night-timers were sitting in traffic on the Parkway. Attendants quietly swept carpets and collected empty glasses. The big Daffy Dog was silent.

“I’m going to the café for a burger,” Lula said. “How about you?”

“I need to get back to Grandma. I left her alone with the money.”

I hustled back to the gaming floor, and I saw Briggs before I saw Grandma. He was standing behind her, as always, but he wasn’t guarding the duffel bag. Grandma was playing the poker machine, and Briggs was back on his heels, looking bored. And the duffel bag was missing.

“Where’s the money?” I asked him.

“I put it in the hotel vault,” Briggs said.

“It’s not like I could spend it,” Grandma said, punching the PLAY button. “I figured I might as well put it away where it was safe. Then Randy don’t have to carry that big heavy bag around. We’re almost done here anyway. It’s amazing how fast you can go through a thousand dollars when you got the knack for it.”

“Have you won anything?”

“Not a darn nickel. It’s just as good, though, on account of I want to get back to the room to watch some television. Starting at seven o’clock, there’s reruns of Dancing with the Stars.”

I left Grandma and Briggs and walked over to Snuggy and Diesel. Snuggy was playing blackjack, and Diesel was standing behind him.

“How’s it going?” I asked Diesel.

“I don’t think it looks good for the horse.”

“Snuggy hasn’t got a lot of chips in front of him.”

“He consistently gets great cards, but he’s the worst blackjack player ever.”

“Why don’t you want to play?” I asked Diesel.

“Can’t. I’ve won here too many times. If I sit down, I’ll be asked to leave.”

“They can do that?”

“They think I cheat,” Diesel said.

“Do you?”

“Yeah.” Diesel smiled down at me. “I liked the tag team wrestling exhibition.”

“You could have helped!”

“You were doing okay without me. Who was the guy you took down?”

“Billy Major. He’s a Trenton pimp who got caught in a drug sting. Vinnie bonded him out, and then Major failed to appear for a court appearance. It was dumb luck that Connie spotted him.”

Snuggy was fidgeting in his seat and cracking his knuckles. Nervous. Knowing he was screwing up. He had only a few chips left.

“This is painful,” I said to Diesel. “He should be playing something that’s pure chance.”

“There are decisions to be made with all the games,” Diesel said. “Even with slots. And he’s incapable of making a good decision.”

Lula huffed up to us, clearly on a rant, hands waving in the air. “This place is fixed,” Lula said. “I guess I know when I’m hot. And I was hot. And I lost. How could that be? I got a mind to report this to someone.” She looked over at Snuggy. “Don’t look like he’s doing too good, either. I tell you, this place is rigged. Where’s Grandma?”

“She went back to her room to watch a Dancing with the Stars retrospective.”

“No kidding? I love that show. Maybe I should go watch with her. I think I got high blood pressure from losing all that money. I got a headache. What kind of headache do you get from high blood pressure? Is it on the top of your head? Is it behind your left eyeball? Does it go down the back of your neck? I got all of those. Maybe I’m having a stroke. Is anything sagging on me?”

“Not that I can see,” I told her. Thanks to the miracle of spandex.

Lula left, and I cut my eyes to Diesel.

“Don’t give me that look,” Diesel said. “She asked about sagging, and I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking.”

“Now you’re a mind reader?”

“It was flashing in neon across your forehead.”

Diesel grabbed me and hugged me to him. “Cute.”

The night crowd was beginning to filter into the casino. Young singles coming directly from work. Older couples in that awkward age, caught between assisted living and the family home in suburbia. Hard-core addicted gamblers who had spent all day sleeping off a hangover and were now ready to repeat the last night’s disaster. The noise level rose and dealers notched up the action.

“That’s it,” Snuggy said, pushing back from the table. “I’m done. I lost all my money. I feel terrible.”

A cocktail waitress sidled up to Diesel. “Can I get you something? Anything?”

“No,” Diesel said, “but thanks for asking.”

I did an eye roll, and the waitress sashayed away.

“How are we going to get the money for Doug?” Snuggy asked. “We only have until three o’clock tomorrow.”

“I know we all like Doug,” Diesel said. “But maybe it’s his time.”

Snuggy looked horrified, and I smacked Diesel on the back of his head.

“He’s a horse,” Diesel said. “Do you know how many horses you could buy for a quarter of a million? Lots. And they could be under the hood of a car.”

“There are a bunch of casinos here,” I said. “Surely one of them would let you play.”

“Sorry, sugar. I’m persona non grata. These casinos put me through M.I.T.”

I was speechless. “You graduated from M.I.T.?” I finally managed.

“Just because I’m big doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

“You look like a street person.”

“I like to be comfortable. Anyway, lots of women think I’m sexy like this.” He smiled and ruffled my hair. “Not you, maybe, but lots of other women.”

I did another eye roll.

“You keep doing that and you’re gonna shake something loose in there,” Diesel said.

“So you haven’t always chased after bad guys?”

“I started doing this in my teens. Mostly part-time.”

“Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

“Yeah, except I don’t mess with vampires. And I think Buffy might not be real.”

“And you’re real?”

“As real as a guy could get.”

“Okay, great. Now we’ve established we’re all real,” Snuggy said. “Could we get back to the Doug problem?”

“I need an off-site poker game,” Diesel said. “Private. High-stakes party.”

Snuggy pumped his fist into the air. “Yes! I knew you’d come through. You guys stay here and I’ll find a game. I’ll ask around.”

“You aren’t going to take off on me, are you?” Diesel asked Snuggy. “Because I’d track you down and find you and the rest wouldn’t be pretty.”

“You got my word.”

“Your word isn’t worth squat,” Diesel said. “Just remember my promise. Make sure no one in the game knows me. And find out if they’re checking guns at the door.”

“Okay, got that,” Snuggy said. “Why do you want to know about the guns? Are you packing?”

“No. I don’t want to get shot when I win. It hurts. We’re going to the café. You can catch me there or you can call Stephanie on her cell.”

Snuggy wandered away and Diesel stuck his hand into my sweatshirt pocket.

“Hey!” I said.

“I’m looking for your voucher.”

“I bet.”

“I need the receipt I gave you when I cashed out the slot.”

“I put it in my jeans pocket. I didn’t want to lose it.”

“Even better.”

I stepped back from him. “I can get it!”

“You’re not a whole lot of fun,” Diesel said.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“And?”

I pulled the receipt out of my pocket and gave it to Diesel. “And I don’t mess around.”

“Admirable but boring.” Diesel took the receipt and towed me across the room to the cashier. “It wouldn’t kill you to flirt a little, so I don’t remember this assignment as totally sucking. I’m babysitting a guy who thinks he’s a leprechaun, and I’m rescuing a has-been horse. The least you could do is grab my ass once in a while.”

“Suppose I just think about grabbing your ass?”

“Better than nothing.”

Diesel gave his receipt to the cashier and collected his winnings. “This is burger money,” Diesel said, draping an arm across my shoulders, moving me toward the café.