Jackpot

Chapter 26

Valentine heard the shotgun blast and saw his life flash before his eyes. A flock of crows nesting in a car skeleton burst into the air around him. He felt their wings violently brush against his body, and imagined they were taking his soul to the hereafter.

The birds continued to fly upward, leaving him behind. He blinked and realized he was still standing, then heard the sounds of wheels spinning. He spun around and saw the rental race past, it’s rear end fish tailing. The vehicle was halfway across the field before he realized what had happened. Gerry had floored the accelerator just before Bronco had squeezed the shotgun’s trigger.

Valentine watched the rental burn across the field, expecting to hear a shotgun blast at any moment. Bronco would pay Gerry back for doing this. His son was doomed.

But the blast never came, and he guessed Bronco hadn’t shot Gerry because his son was driving too fast. But it was a temporary reprieve from an inevitable situation. Gerry eventually had to slow down, and Bronco would kill him. Valentine took out his cell phone, and powered it up. If he could alert the police, perhaps they could save his son. His cell phone made an unpleasant sound, and he glanced at its face. NO SERVICE. He lifted his eyes, and stared across the field. The rental was a blip on the horizon, his son still driving like he was protecting the Pole at the Indy 500. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

The back country of Reno was bumpy and uneven. Gerry came to a wide ditch he couldn’t cross, and was forced to slow down. He’d pulled some wild stunts with cars as a teenager, but he’d never driven this fast before without pavement under his wheels. If Bronco was going to kill him, at least he was going to die with adrenalin pumping through his veins.

The ditch was about fifteen feet wide and ten feet deep with brownish water in its bottom. Gerry turned the rental so he was driving parallel with the ditch. As the speedometer fell below fifty, he felt the shotgun’s barrel being scraped across the back of his neck. It felt like a hot wire and he braked the car, then threw it into park. Bronco leaned forward, and put his lips next to Gerry’s ear.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you.”

Gerry thought about it, then shook his head.

“Can’t think of any?” Bronco asked.

“I can think of plenty,” Gerry said. “None of them are any good.”

Bronco let out a mean little laugh. “Get out of the car.”

“You going to shoot me in the back, like my old man?”

Bronco stared back, saying nothing. Gerry realized he was a goner unless he did something. Think, he told himself.

“You’re going to need money,” Gerry said.

Bronco blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re on the lam and don’t have any money. Well, neither do I, unless you think you’re going to get far with my credit cards and the forty bucks in my wallet. You’ll be back in jail before you know it.”

“That’s all that’s in your wallet? Forty bucks?”

“That’s right.”

Bronco chewed on his lower lip, thinking.

“I know how you can make a fast buck,” Gerry said.

“How? Flipping burgers at McDonald’s?”

Gerry grinned. His father had liked to say that even Hitler had a sense of humor.

“With a monkey’s paw,” Gerry said.

Bronco lowered the shotgun so it was no longer touching Gerry’s neck.

“Where’d you get a monkey’s paw?”

“From your house in Henderson,” Gerry said. “The Las Vegas Metro Police found the place, and they let me and my father have a look around. We found the monkeys paws in a box in your workshop; my father explained how they worked. I grabbed one when he wasn’t looking, and shoved it into my suitcase.”

“Why?”

“Because I planned to use it.” Gerry turned his head and looked Bronco in the eye. “I used to be a bookie. My wife talked me into quitting the rackets, and going into business with my old man. Only, I can’t quit. It’s something in my blood. So I stole one of your little devices.”

“You’re saying you’re a scammer,” Bronco said.

“All my life.”

“Where’s the monkey’s paw you took from my house?”

“In my suitcase in the trunk.”

“Show me,” Bronco said.

Gerry pushed a button beneath the dashboard that popped the trunk, then climbed out of the rental with his hands stuck on his head like a POW. He’d gotten Bronco to start thinking about his own salvation, and sensed that Bronco wasn’t as intent on killing him as he had been a few minutes ago.

Bronco climbed out of the vehicle in his baggy guard’s uniform and cheap prison sandals. He aimed the shotgun at Gerry’s face. Gerry dropped to his knees. Bronco went and flipped open the trunk. There were two suitcases in back.

“Which’s one yours?”

“The black Tumi. The monkey’s paw is on top, wrapped in plastic.”

Bronco unzippered the Tumi. Seeing the monkey’s paw, his eyes lit up like someone who’s found buried treasure. He removed the cheating device along with a shirt and a pair of pants, then slammed the trunk closed. Coming around the rental, he shredded the plastic from the slot-cheating device, then pushed the button that made the strobe light flash on its end.

“You took my favorite one.”

“Lucky me,” Gerry said.