He locked himself in a stall and had a seat. Ran his hands through his hair and tried to think. He prided himself on his ability to wiggle out of tight jams. Usually, he did it with his mouth, but this situation was calling for a different approach.
His cell phone vibrated and he took it out of his pocket. Gabe calling. He needed a friendly voice to talk to, and he answered the call.
“Hey,” Billy said.
“Didn’t you get my text?” Gabe said. “The Haneys were in my house when I got home this afternoon. The crazy father found the Keno scam in my garage.”
“Don’t tell me you showed it to them.”
“What the hell else was I supposed to do? They’re both crazy as loons. I took them to the Grand Cafe at Palace Station, and we played the Keno game and they won and that’s how I left them. I’m sorry, Billy. There was nothing else I could do.”
An irate patron knocked on the stall door. “Hurry up, will you?”
“What did they want?” Billy asked.
“They don’t trust you, so they came to my house and got Elsie to let them in,” Gabe said. “They plan to watch me until the scam at the Carnivale is done. They threatened to kill me and my daughter if we try to screw with them.”
Billy’s mind was racing, a plan forming in his head. It just might work, and he said, “How long ago did you leave them?”
“Did you hear what I just said — they threatened to kill my kid!”
“So buy your kid a ticket to New York and book her into a hotel,” Billy said. “I told you before that I was going to handle these monkeys, remember? Now, answer the fucking question. How long ago did you leave the Haneys at the Grand Cafe?”
“About an hour and a half ago.”
A thin smile formed on Billy’s lips. “And you taught them the Keno scam.”
“That’s right. I gave them the winning numbers.”
“Perfect. Go to bed, and get some sleep.”
“I don’t feel safe at my house, not with those animals running around.”
“Then stay at the Holiday Inn. I’ll call you later.”
The patron banged on the door. “Have a heart; I’m going to explode.”
Billy ignored the dying man’s pleas. Using Google, he located the phone number at the Grand Cafe at Palace Station and was soon sweet-talking the hostess into paging the Haneys.
“What do your friends look like?” the hostess asked.
Like they just crawled out from beneath a rock, Billy almost said.
“Have you seen Sons of Anarchy? They could have acted in it,” he said instead.
“I’m looking at them right now,” the hostess said.
“You’re amazing,” Billy said.
The hostess put him on hold. A moment later, Junior came on the line.
“Having fun?” Billy asked.
“How’d you track us down?” Junior asked suspiciously.
“Gabe told me where to find you. I’ve got a job for you.”
“You don’t say. What have you got in mind?”
“How much would you charge me to beat the shit out of some guys with tire irons?”
Jimmie Vaughan and the Fabulous Thunderbirds didn’t need a pitch-shifter to rock the house. They’d been playing the blues for forty-plus years and could have knocked out every song in their set in their sleep. Standing in front of the stage with his crew, Billy let himself get lost in their music and forgot his problems for a little while.
The show ended with the band playing a rousing version of “Texas Flood.” Then the house lights went up and the crowd filed out. Billy turned his attention to the luxury boxes at the back of the theater. Tony G and his unfabulous enforcers had come to the Joint to hear live music, just like Billy, and there was a chance that Tony G’s threat was nothing more than hot air. But there was also a chance it was real, and that Guido and Snap would physically harm Billy once he ventured outside the Hard Rock to the parking lot.
So Billy had hired the Haneys for protection. It had felt strange, but he didn’t see that he had any other choice. He’d struck deals with the devil before, and he knew the drill. Like sand shifting in the desert, the Haneys’ allegiances were dictated by opportunity and little else.
DeSantis appeared at the front of the stage. “Some show, huh? The limo’s outside waiting to take everyone back to the Carnivale.”
Billy didn’t want to leave the Hard Rock just yet. Traffic in Vegas was unpredictable, and he wanted to give the Haneys enough time to travel across town.
“The valet area will be jammed,” Billy said. “I say we hang around for a little while and do some gambling.”
“I have never gambled here. Is it nice?” Tommy Wang asked.
“They’ve got a special room for high rollers called The Peacock with a bar made of glowing onyx. There’s nothing like it in town.”
“Does that sound good to you?” Wang asked Pepper.
Pepper smiled. Behind her eyes, a slasher film was playing, and Tommy Wang was getting cut to pieces over and over.
“Whatever you want,” Pepper said.
The Joint was nearly empty. As Billy and his crew and Tommy Wang started to leave, DeSantis pulled Billy to the side. “I don’t mean to put a damper on things, Mr. C., but my bosses are tracking your play, and you’re a few hours behind today. I need to get you back to Carnivale so I can justify all these great perks I’ve given you tonight.”
“The valet area will be jammed. I don’t do lines,” Billy said.
“Nor should you have to. The limo is parked in a roped-off area of the parking lot. All the high rollers get their limos parked there. That way, they can leave without waiting.”
“You want me to walk through a parking lot? Is it secure?”
“Of course it’s secure, Mr. C. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get you and your friends back to the mother ship.”
Parking lots in Vegas were never a safe bet. They were poorly lit and rarely had enough security cameras. That was why gamblers wore rubber bands around their wrists or resorted to carrying concealed weapons to protect themselves. But if Billy balked about returning to the Carnivale, DeSantis’s bosses might decide Billy wasn’t worth all the free goodies and ask him to leave. If that happened, the scam would collapse, and their big payday would disappear.
“You’re sure it’s secure,” Billy repeated.
“Trust me, Mr. C. You’re in good hands,” DeSantis said.
The valet area outside the Hard Rock was a mob scene, with too many people and not enough cabs. DeSantis escorted Billy’s group down a sidewalk to the roped-off parking area, where a VIP limo awaited them. Billy hustled along, trying to hide his growing apprehension. Guido and Snap were no ordinary enforcers. Guido was a bodybuilding champion while Snap fought mixed martial arts. Each was strong enough to break one of Billy’s arms faster than an Olive Garden bread stick.
DeSantis lifted the rope, and his crew climbed beneath it. Billy went last, his eyes fixed on a pair of shadows next to the building. He hated this shit. Every criminal group had rules and arrangements that they followed. This was especially true in Las Vegas, where a thief was not expected to step on another thief’s toes or disrupt his business.
The shadows came to life and moved toward him. It was Guido and Snap, and their hands were missing. Billy blinked before he realized both were wearing black leather gloves.
“Excuse me, but this is a restricted area,” DeSantis said.
Guido placed the palm of his hand on the VIP host’s chest and gave him a push.
“Get lost, homeboy,” Guido said.