Super Con

Thirty-Six

The gaming board parking lot faced the intersection of North Las Vegas Boulevard and East Washington Avenue. Miles away from the glitz and glitter of the Strip, the most action you were going to find here was a tumbling sagebrush or a blue hair trudging back to his apartment carrying a sagging bag of groceries.

Billy sat in his car with the AC blowing on his face. Across the lot, Grimes and his posse stood next to an unmarked white van, going over last-minute details on how they planned to bust Broken Tooth and his gun-toting goons. Despite its Wild West culture, Vegas had strict gun laws, and agents of the law did not take kindly to criminals who used firearms while committing crimes. Often, these criminals got shot and killed for their trouble.

Billy’s cell phone lay on his leg. Using one hand, he texted different members of his crew to make sure they were ready to help bring their buddy Leon home.

he texted Gabe.

Gabe wrote back.

Billy had to tell Gabe something only once for it to get done right. Next up were Cory and Morris, the two members of his crew he was most worried about. They were both stressed out over Travis’s shooting and didn’t need the added worry of dumping his body.

Billy texted.

Cory replied.

Cory didn’t respond. There was no doubt in Billy’s mind that he and Morris were both hurting. A few weeks from now, after this debacle had played itself out and they were home free, the three of them would get together for a long weekend and party up a storm. It was one way to start the healing process and get Cory and Morris back on track. Bad shit happened in their line of work; how a person dealt with it defined their careers and their lives.

His final text was to Pepper and Misty. The girls had a special role in the little charade they were about to pull, one that required them to get face-to-face with Grimes and distract him. Grimes was many things, but a rube was not one of them. If Grimes suspected that Pepper and Misty were trying to trick him, he’d haul them both in.

Pepper texted back.

Billy looked up. Grimes was marching toward him with a snarling look on his already ugly puss. The cell phone was balanced on his leg, and he flipped it so the screen was facing down and dropped it on the passenger seat. He rested both hands on the steering wheel.

Grimes stuck his head into the driver’s open window. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the beautiful outdoors,” he said.

“Don’t be a smart-ass. I saw you looking in your lap. Admiring your junk?”

“It’s worth admiring, or so I’m told.”

“Very funny. Did Broken Tooth contact you?”

“Not yet.”

Grimes breathed his foul breath on Billy’s face. Every cop he’d encountered, from the streets of Providence to the fancy casinos of Vegas, spouted noxious breath that could not be quelled by Tic Tacs or vigorous mouthwash. Billy had decided that it was a by-product of the job. Dealing with lowlifes and miscreants created a bile-producing creature in the stomach that simply could not be quelled.

“Then who are you texting? Your crew?” Grimes asked.

“I wasn’t texting and I don’t have a crew.”

“You’d better not be messing with me.”

Truth ran both ways. Right now, Billy wasn’t feeling any, and he exploded. “How do I know you’re not messing with me? How do I know that you won’t shoot Broken Tooth and then turn your gun on me? Or have one of your men do it?”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” Grimes said, playing tough.

“But you won’t?”

“No sir.”

“Like I should trust you? Right.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Billy, and on that you have my word. I need you to stand up in front of a judge and tell him the story you told me. Otherwise, I don’t have a case.”

“You’re not going to waste me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It was just like Mags had said. Grimes was determined to get that promotion, even if it meant getting in bed with his worst enemy, which happened to be Billy.

“But don’t think that changes things between us,” Grimes said. “If I catch you doing anything funny before this bust goes down, I’ll drag you out of that fancy sports car and kick your ass until your nose bleeds. Am I making myself clear?”

“Loud and clear.”

Billy’s cell phone vibrated on the passenger seat. “This is Billy,” he answered.

“This is Broken Tooth,” the caller said. “I’ve got the five hundred grand. You ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Good. You know Joyful House restaurant on Spring Mountain Road?”

It was the same restaurant where Cory and Morris had spotted Broken Tooth’s henchman picking up take-out food. “I’ve heard of it,” he said.

“Be in the parking lot in thirty minutes. Don’t be late.”

“We’re going to do the exchange in the parking lot? We could get robbed.”

“Don’t be stupid. My men will meet you, bring you here. Then we’ll do exchange.”

“Got it. I’m leaving right now.”

There was silence on the line. Billy went rigid in his seat. He’d screwed up. The previous two times he’d spoken with Broken Tooth, he’d demanded that Broken Tooth put Leon on the line to confirm that his driver was still alive. Billy hadn’t done that this time, and he felt certain that Broken Tooth had picked up on the discrepancy.

“But first I want to speak with my driver,” he added.

“Your driver is taking a nap,” Broken Tooth said.

“Wake him up. If I don’t talk to my driver, our deal is off.”

“Don’t argue with me!”

“Do it, or I’ll hang up on you.”

Broken Tooth dropped the phone on a table, the sound like an explosion in Billy’s ear. He glanced at Grimes. The special agent was not happy with this development and started to voice his displeasure. Billy silenced him with a finger to the lips. Leon came on the line.

“Hello?” His driver’s speech was slurred.

“Hey, Leon, it’s me, Billy. You don’t sound so hot. You okay?”

“They beat the shit out of me.”

“What did you do this time?”

“They like to watch Chinese TV on their smartphones. Some stupid variety show. There was a girl singing off-key, so I asked them to turn the volume down.”

“How bad did they beat you up?”

“Can’t see out of my left eye, and my ribs are busted. I think my nose is broken, too.”

“I’m going to get you out of there, man. That’s a promise.”

“You better hurry up, because I can’t take much more of this.”

Broken Tooth came back on the line. “You satisfied?”

“Why did you have to hurt him?”

“Your driver’s got a big mouth. Lucky to be alive. Joyful House on Spring Mountain Road. Be there in thirty or my men will kill your driver.”

“Don’t do that.”

The call ended. Billy dropped the phone into his lap and used his hands to massage his face. It hurt him to hear Leon sounding so bad. Grimes touched Billy’s sleeve.

“If it makes you feel better, I can have an ambulance waiting nearby.”

He stared into the special agent’s face. There was a tinge of compassion beneath the ugly that hadn’t been there before. Like the criminals they chased, cops’ souls were often scorched beyond repair or healing. Grimes had fallen far, but he hadn’t fallen all the way.

“That would be great,” he said.

Grimes made a phone call to arrange for an ambulance to be at the ready. Ending the call, he hustled over to where his posse was gathered. The gaming agents piled into the van and followed Billy out of the parking lot.

As Billy drove to Joyful House, he used one hand to send his crew a group text telling them the rescue was on. Hitting “Send,” he realized his hand was shaking. He’d never been more scared in his life, and he tossed his phone on the passenger seat and stared at the road.