“I’ve got a wife and kids, too, you know,” Gabe added.
FIFTY
Mags awoke in the middle of the night with her ear on fire and chugged down a pain pill along with a glass of scotch to make the burning sensation go away. It had done a number on her, and at ten o’clock the next morning, she could not get out of bed. That would have been okay, only some jackass was pounding on her front door.
“Go away,” she said.
The pounding grew frantic, the sound busting up the protective coating around her poor brain. It wasn’t going to stop until she made it stop. Still wearing last night’s clothes, she cleaned her teeth, brushed down her Bride of Frankenstein hair, and when she’d taken possession of herself, went into the living room and parted the curtains to the window that faced the street.
Frank was on the stoop, banging on the door. His SUV idled in the driveway, the black exhaust belching warning signals into the air. He was the last person she wanted to talk to, and she went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of juice.
The pounding continued. If need be, Frank would break the door down. She got her courage up and ventured into the front of the house.
“Leave me alone,” she said through the door. “I had a bad night. Go away.”
“Open the door, Mags. You know what I want,” he said.
“What if I say no?”
“You can’t say no.”
She opened the door and sunshine flooded the foyer. Frank brushed past her on his way to the living room. His hair was neatly parted and he’d trimmed the bushes from his ears. He only groomed himself when he was going to make a bust and thought he might get his picture taken. She didn’t like it when he came to her place unannounced.
“You left your car on. Someone might steal it,” she said.
“My boss is with me,” he said.
“You mean Trixie? What a piece of shit that guy is. How do you put up with him?”
“I’m not going to be putting up with him for much longer. How about a cup of coffee?”
“Forget it.”
“Thanks a lot. What’s with the bandage on your ear?”
“It’s a long story. I don’t want you here. Say your piece, and get out.”
“You’re in some mood.”
He ducked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Glass in hand, he returned to the living room and took the couch. He pointed at the lone chair in the room. “Sit down. In case you forgot, the gaming board is planning to bust Cunningham this afternoon, and you’re going to help us. Give me any crap, and my boss will throw you in jail. Am I making myself clear?”
So much for Custer’s Last Stand. She positioned her chair so she faced him. Frank drank his water and put the glass down on the coffee table. He smiled with the sincerity of a phony TV preacher. She was tempted to throw a lamp at him, just to wipe that smile off his ugly mug.
“This afternoon, the gaming board is going to raid Galaxy,” he said. “The joint was built with drug money, and now it’s being used to launder more drug money. We plan to bust the kingpin of the operation, Reverend T. Rock.”
He took out his iPhone and keyed in a command. He turned the screen so Mags could see a live feed of a humongous black guy sitting poolside in a cabana. With him were two tattoo-covered Hispanic babes wearing leather bikinis.
“The women are named Margarita Jimenez and Damaris Olivio,” he said. “They used to work for a Mexican drug cartel before Rock lured them away. Rumor is, they’re absolutely lethal.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“Shut up, and let me finish. Two days ago, Rock brought eight million dollars in drug money to Galaxy’s casino and passed it through the cage. The money was laundered through a chain of check-cashing stores in town and turned into money orders. Eight hundred of them, to be exact. Later today, Rock will go to the cage and get a leather briefcase with the money orders. We’re going to bust Rock once the transfer is made.”
Her wounded ear throbbed. She needed to take another pain pill and climb into bed. But first, she needed to get Frank out of her house.
“We plan to nail Cunningham as well and make it seem as if he’s working for Rock,” Frank said. “Kill two birds with one stone, if you will. To do that, we need to bust Cunningham inside the casino. That’s where you come in.”
“You don’t say.”
“Don’t get smart with me. You struck a deal with us, and I’m going to hold you to it.”
Whatever promises she’d made to Frank and his boss had gotten flushed down the toilet. Billy had saved her life last night, and she was not going to double-cross him, even if it meant lying through her teeth to Frank.
“You still haven’t told me what you want me to do.”
“We want you to establish contact with Cunningham before the raid, to verify where he is inside Galaxy.”
“I’m not going back inside that place.”
“Don’t worry. There will be more gaming agents inside that joint than you can shake a stick at. You’ll be totally safe.”
“I’m not going back inside. The people running that place are crazy.”
“You can’t say no.”
“Try me.”
“Don’t do this, Mags. You’ll regret it.”
“I’m not your slave. No.”
“All right, have it your way. You can draw Cunningham out to the valet area. Then you don’t have to go in.”
“Is that your idea of a compromise?”
“Yes. I’ve got a lot riding on this. My career’s at stake.”
Frank’s last promotion had gone up in flames because Billy had outsmarted him, and she guessed another promotion was now on the line and would be granted if Frank went where no gaming agent had gone before, and put Billy’s cute little ass in the slammer. It was the opening she’d been looking for, and she said, “I’ll do it, but I want something in return.”
“You’re not in a position to bargain with me.”
“Really.”
“Don’t even think about it, Mags. You’re wasting your breath.”
Frank had tipped his mitt and told Mags that he needed her. It was leverage, and she went to the front door and flung it open. “Get out of my fucking house.”
“You can’t throw me out.”
“Yes, I can. This is my place, and I didn’t ask you in. If you don’t leave, I’ll call 911.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
She took out her cell phone and started punching numbers. Frank jumped off the couch and rushed her. His movements suggested he might do something irrational.
“Don’t. Please, Mags. I can’t let this one get away.”
She stopped dialing. “This is all about your fucking job, isn’t it, Frank?”
His eyes fell shamefully to the floor, and he did not reply.
“Answer me,” she said tersely.
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
“I thought so. I want this arrangement to be over. I’ll draw Billy out this afternoon, but from that moment on, my agreement with the gaming board is over. I also never want to see you again. Do you understand?”
Still looking at the floor, he nodded.
“Good. Now, go talk it over with your boss. Don’t come back until he says yes.”
Frank walked out of the town house. She watched him climb into the idling vehicle in the driveway before slamming the door.
She gulped down a pain pill before going to her study. Got on her desktop and drew up a letter of termination between her and the gaming board, to take effect at 5:00 p.m. tonight. She cleaned up the typos before making two copies on the laser-jet printer she’d bought at Staples. From the front of the house came a pounding on the front door. Return of the caveman.
She opened the door and Frank just stood there, scared of her now.
“Trixie’s not happy about this,” he said.