“Your ex-wife spies on your daughters?”
“You would too if you had kids. The shit they get into these days is incredible.”
“Did your ex say that Cory forced himself on her?”
“She didn’t have to. Alexis isn’t a little slut who has sex with every guy who makes a pass at her. She wasn’t raised that way. Cory took advantage of her.”
“You’re sure about this.”
“Damn straight I am.”
Billy took out his Droid. “Let’s call your kid and ask her what happened.”
“No!”
“Why not? Afraid of what you’ll hear? She’s eighteen, for Christ’s sake. Old enough to vote and drive and make adult decisions. For all you know, she might be in love.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You can’t go around being pissed off at Cory because you don’t like your daughter’s taste in boyfriends.”
“What are you saying? That I need to act like it never happened?”
“I’m saying you need to deal with it.”
Gabe stared into the depths of his mug. He’d once owned a fancy jewelry store inside a Strip casino that had afforded him a beautiful house, several nice cars, and a country club membership. He’d lost it all betting on college sports, and his wife had divorced him. Now, slowly, he was building a bridge back to his family, one brick at a time. You don’t know what matters until it’s taken away, and Gabe had learned that what mattered most to him were his kids.
“I have an idea,” Billy said.
Gabe looked up expectantly. “What’s that?”
“Tell Alexis you know she’s seeing Cory, and you think it’s cool. Tell her how much you dig Cory for going to college and trying to make something of himself. Employ a little reverse psychology. She’ll dump him in a week.”
“My ex suggested the same thing.”
“It’s worth a try, man.”
“A week’s too long. What if Cory decides to pay me back, and tells her.”
“About the cheating? Alexis probably knows.”
“You think Cory told her?”
“No. Cory wouldn’t do that. But kids are smart. Alexis probably figured out you’re doing something illegal. You haven’t worked in years, yet you put a hundred grand in a bank account for her college education. The money had to come from somewhere.”
“Alexis knows I’m a thief?”
“Probably. I figured out my father was cheating when I was seven years old.”
“How’d you know?”
“I caught him.”
Billy had learned that his father was a cheat after his mother went to prison. Money was tight, and his father had started holding Friday night poker games in their living room with a bunch of hard-drinking guys from the neighborhood. His father put out a spread of food, and there were always guys wanting to get in to the game.
One Friday night, Billy stole downstairs and crawled under the table to listen to the men tell stories and dirty jokes. It was great fun until a guy named Sammy had accused Billy’s father of cheating. Sammy worked in a warehouse and was built like a gorilla. The table had grown still.
“Stand up,” Sammy said.
“Screw you,” his father said.
“You’re hiding something,” Sammy said accusingly.
In his father’s lap was a deck of cards. Cards were supposed to be on the table, not in a player’s lap. It had instantly clicked. His father was switching decks and fleecing the other players. The next few moments had passed in a blur. Billy had snatched the evidence and crawled out from beneath the table. Not slowing down, he’d scurried up the stairs to his bedroom, where he’d hidden under the bed, shaking uncontrollably.
The voices had carried from below.
“You’re accusing me of cheating?” his father said.
“Damn straight I am. You’ve got another deck in your lap,” Sammy said.
“All right, I’m standing up. You want me to take my clothes off, too?”
Sammy’s voice changed. “Jesus, Frank. I’m sorry.”
“To hell you’re sorry. Get out of my house!”
Later that night, after the game broke up, Billy’s father had come into his son’s bedroom and coaxed him from his hiding place. His father had hugged him so damn hard that Billy had thought his ribs might crack.
It was an important lesson. There was no such thing as a free lunch, or a complimentary cocktail, or a free beach blanket. Everything had a price tag attached to it. And if your host put out a spread of food at a card game, it meant he was going to rob you blind.
They were on their second cup of coffee. Gabe had calmed down and no longer appeared bent on harming Cory. But that didn’t mean Gabe wasn’t harboring a grudge, and grudges were dangerous in their line of work. To run with a crew, you had to trust your partners.
“I know this situation with your daughter is rough. Let me talk to Cory and set him straight. It won’t be the first time I’ve done it,” Billy said.
“What are you going to say to him?”
“I’ll tell him that if he doesn’t treat Alexis like a princess, I’ll have Travis throw him down a flight of stairs. That should put the fear of God into him.”
“That’s it?”
“What else can I do?”
“I want Cory to stop seeing her.”
“That’s your daughter’s call. All I can get Cory to do is treat her right.”
Gabe shook his head and glanced away. Then he looked at Billy.
“All right.”
Billy’s cell phone did a slow revolution on the table. Caller ID said it was Pepper.
“What happened? You run out of money during your shopping spree?” he answered.
“You anywhere near a TV?” Pepper asked.
The bar had several flat-screen TVs showing sporting events.
“I’m looking at one right now,” he said.
“Go take a look at channel twenty-one.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Someone just murdered you,” Pepper said.
Eight
“What does Pepper mean, someone just murdered you?” Gabe asked.
Billy ended the call. “Beats me. I thought everyone in Vegas loved me.”
He threw down some bills onto the bar, causing the bartender to snap out of his daydream and hustle over. Working in a Vegas casino was as mind-numbing as fitting parts on an assembly line, and the only way to get an employee’s attention was by flashing some cash.
“What’s your pleasure?” the bartender asked.
“I need one of these TVs turned to channel twenty-one,” Billy said.
“You got it.”
The flat-screen TV hanging over the bar turned from college baseball to local news. A sun-kissed blonde reporter stood in an empty field conducting an interview. The only real action in Vegas was inside the casinos, only the TV stations weren’t allowed to film in them because it was bad for tourism. As a result, to boost ratings, the local news focused on gruesome traffic accidents and street killings committed by the town’s drug-dealing gangs. With the reporter stood an elderly man clutching a carved walking stick. The reporter asked a question and the elderly man pointed to a mound of earth behind where they stood.
“My dog found the body over there,” the elderly man said.
“Do you walk here often?” the reporter asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Never found a body before.”
The camera lowered to show a panting dog with different colored eyes heeling by its owner’s side.
“What’s wrong with its eyes?” Gabe asked.
“It’s a blue merle Australian Shepherd. It was born that way,” Billy said.
The camera returned to the reporter. “The victim has been identified by the Metro Las Vegas Police as William Cunningham, age thirty, of Las Vegas. According to police, robbery does not appear to be a motive. The police are asking anyone who might have seen Cunningham before he was murdered to call this special hotline.”