Mr. Lucky

40

Mabel was ready to nab a cheater, when she heard someone at the front door.

“It’s me,” Yolanda called out.

Mabel glanced at the clock on Tony’s desk. Nearly midnight. Normally she’d be in bed by now, nibbling on licorice and reading a book. But tonight was different. Tonight she was going to nab the invisible chip thief.

Employee theft was a problem in every casino. Perhaps it was the vast amounts of money the employees saw flow by each day. Or maybe it was the long hours and miserable pay. Tony often said that casinos offered the last factory jobs in America.

The Palace in South Africa was getting ripped off by an employee. One hundred dollars was disappearing from the roulette table every night. The casino was sure that it was an inside job. Tony had given her the job a week ago, with the promise of a bonus if she could detect the cheating. So she’d stayed up late and glued herself to the computer.

“I’m coming,” she said, pushing herself out of the chair.

She found Yolanda on the stoop, the baby asleep in her arms.

“Gerry called from Mississippi. He said a man named Huck Dubb is coming to Florida to kill me and my baby.”

“What?” Mabel ushered her inside and shut the door. “Do the police know?”

Yolanda nodded. She looked remarkably composed. “Yes. They don’t think this man will get here until tomorrow. He’s driving, so they’ve set up roadblocks on the highways. They’re sure they’ll get him, but Gerry doesn’t want me taking any chances. Would it be okay if the baby and I stayed with you?”

Mabel put her arms around the younger woman. Yolanda was doing her best to act brave. “Of course you may. You can use the guest bedroom. Did you pack anything?”

“I left the house right away,” Yolanda said. “Gerry told me to.”

“But you said this man wouldn’t get here until tomorrow.”

“Gerry said he has a lot of friends. He might even have friends here in Florida.”

Mabel looked into her face. Yolanda’s eyes were puffy, and she wore no makeup. Had she been sleeping when Gerry had called? She gave her a gentle hug.

“Let me go and shut off Tony’s computer. Then we can head down to my place.”

Sitting at Tony’s desk, Mabel started to shut down the computer, when her eyes froze on the screen. The roulette game at the Palace was in full swing, with a dozen players making bets. So much money was on the layout, it was hard to watch the employees. But Mabel’s eyes had locked onto one. It was the banker, whose job was to collect losing bets and pay out winning ones. He sat in front of a huge tray of colored chips. When he leaned forward to collect a bet, his necktie hung over the tray and his elbow pressed down on it.

“Gotcha!”

She called the Palace and got the general manager on the line. Mabel said, “Mr. Valentine asked me to call you. The banker just stole a black hundred-dollar chip. It’s hidden behind his necktie with a piece of double-sided Scotch tape.”

“Mr. Valentine is sure?” the general manager asked.

“Positive.”

Mabel heard a click on the phone. Yolanda came in and stood beside her. Two men appeared on the screen and lifted the banker cleanly out of his chair. Casino people called this giving someone the jerk. One of them turned the banker’s necktie over and exposed the stolen chip. Mabel clapped her hands in delight.

“Gerry also said that Huck Dubb might come to Tony’s house,” Yolanda said when they were standing on the stoop and Mabel was locking the front door.

“Meaning we shouldn’t come back here until he’s caught,” Mabel said.

“Yes.”

“What kind of person is this Huck Dubb?”

“Gerry said he’s part of the Dixie Mafia. Gerry did something to him, and Huck tried to kill him. He didn’t succeed, so now he’s coming after us.”

Mabel went back inside and got Tony’s Sig Sauer. Then she flipped the security system on. As she relocked the door, she tried to imagine the kind of person they were dealing with. If Huck Dubb was driving here from Mississippi hell-bent on revenge, Gerry must have done something awful to him. Which meant Huck wasn’t going to leave if he discovered Yolanda wasn’t home. The police might catch him, and they might not. Leaving her and Yolanda to fend for themselves.

“That’s not good,” she said. “How about some homemade lentil soup?”

Yolanda smiled. “Sounds great.”

It was a moonlit night, and they walked down the block to Mabel’s place and let themselves in through the front door, the house filled with the heavenly smells of that afternoon’s cooking.

The lentil soup tasted better the second time around. Lois was a little angel and remained asleep in her mother’s arms. Yolanda and Mabel sat in the living room and spooned the soup into their mouths while staring at the window that watched the street. A police cruiser passed by and stopped outside Yolanda’s house. A uniformed cop got out and walked around the property with a flashlight in his hand. He returned to his vehicle and drove away. Several minutes passed.

“I don’t like this,” Yolanda said.

“The soup?”

Yolanda displayed her empty bowl. “Being helpless. Sitting here waiting for something to happen. Acting like unemancipated women.”

“Is that what we’re acting like?”

“Yes. What are we waiting for? We should be doing something to protect ourselves.”

“We are. We’re hiding.”

“That makes us victims, doesn’t it?”

Mabel stared at the Sig Sauer lying on the couch. She supposed Yolanda was right. She refilled their bowls in the kitchen. Coming back to the living room, she said, “What are you suggesting we do? Set a trap for Huck Dubb?”

“That’s what Tony or Gerry would do. They know Huck is coming, so they’d use that to their advantage. They’d think a step ahead and ambush him.”

Mabel stood at the window and spooned hot soup into her mouth. The police cruiser reappeared, and she glanced at her watch. Fifteen minutes had passed since the cruiser’s first visit. A lot of bad things could happen in fifteen minutes.

Yolanda was right. They needed to take precautions, or risk becoming a sound bite on the evening news. That was all murders were good for these days.

She sat down beside the younger woman. Yolanda had a funny look in her eyes, and Mabel realized she had something specific in mind.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I think we should call the men we met in Gibsonton,” Yolanda said.

“You mean Brownie and Little Pete?”

“Yes. I think they can help us.”