Super Con

Thirty-Eight

Billy hated guns for the simple reason that they were rarely accurate, even at close range. Ninety percent of the time, the wrong thing got hit.

Lying on the floor, he watched the fusillade of bullets hit everything but their intended targets. In a movie, it would have been funny, but not so in real life, where a ricochet could have taken out him or Leon. Grimes finally settled things and got close enough not to miss. The house shook as the henchmen’s bodies hit the floor. It was all Billy could do not to yell, “Timber.”

The gaming agents relieved the henchmen of their weapons before checking for pulses. Grimes came over to where Billy lay, saw he wasn’t harmed, and said, “We got lost. Thanks for giving us the address. Which one is Broken Tooth?”

There were only two bodies lying on the floor. Broken Tooth had taken a powder and made a run for it. Billy said, “He must have bolted. Check the back bedrooms.”

Grimes barked an order, and the posse charged down a hallway into the rear of the house. Broken Tooth had short legs and smoked like a chimney; he wouldn’t get very far. Billy hoped the gaming agents shot him in the back when they caught up with him.

Billy pulled himself off the floor and went to check on Leon. His driver’s eyelids were shut. Billy’s heart skipped a beat, fearing the worst. “Leon, my man. Talk to me.”

Leon cracked an eye. “They done shooting?”

“The rodeo is over.”

“Thank you, Jesus.”

Billy undid the ropes, and Leon ran his hands across his body for bullet wounds. “I’m good. Who are these guys with the shotguns?”

“Gaming board.”

His driver’s voice dropped. “I thought the gaming board was after you.”

“Not today.” Billy stole a glance over his shoulder. Grimes was kneeling beside the bodyguards checking for signs of life and paying Billy and Leon scant attention. Grimes had dropped his guard and had no clue that he was about to be played.

Billy pulled out his cell phone and texted his crew.

“Who you talking to?” Leon whispered.

Billy silenced him with a finger to the lips. He was still wired up, and he tore the button off his shirt and tossed it away before edging up to Grimes. The special agent was closing the dead henchmen’s eyelids with his fingertips.

“My driver’s going to be okay,” Billy said.

“Glad to hear it. These assholes weren’t so lucky,” Grimes said.

“Karma’s a bitch. My driver wants something to drink. Okay if I use the kitchen?”

“Be my guest.”

“You want me to get you something?”

“No thanks.”

Billy had a look around the living room. The good-faith money for Night Train and his teammates was somewhere in the house. The trick would be to find it without Grimes noticing. Grimes took out his cell phone and called the on-call ambulance to give them the address. It was all the distraction Billy needed, and he entered the adjacent dining room. Two bulging leather satchels sat on the dining room table. He parted the mouth of each. Stacks of newly printed C-notes stared back at him.

Bingo.

He carried the bags into the kitchen. Opening the interior door to the garage, he pressed the automatic garage door opener above the light switch. The garage door lifted, and he went outside with the money. His crew’s three vehicles were parked by the curb, and the driver’s window of each vehicle came down. His crew looked at him expectantly.

“Leon says hello,” he told them.

Smiles all around. His crew had never looked happier.

Gabe got out and did the exchange with Billy at the curb. Gabe’s two leather bags didn’t look anything like Billy’s bags, but since Grimes hadn’t seen the bags, it didn’t matter.

Billy went over to Cory and Morris’s SUV. “You boys ready?”

“As ready as we’re ever going to be,” Cory said. “Can we back up into the driveway?”

“Don’t see why not.”

Next stop was Pepper’s red BMW, where he stuck his head into the driver’s window.

“You’re up. Get ready to turn some heads,” he said.

Pepper and Misty had dolled themselves up to look like high-priced call girls. Prostitution was illegal in Las Vegas, but you never would have known it scrolling through the thousands of escorts and boy toys advertising their services on the Internet.

Billy walked back into the house and put the new bags on the dining room table. The bags contained half a million dollars of counterfeit money another hustler had paid Billy off with on a shared job. The other hustler had disappeared into the wind, leaving Billy high and dry. Billy had decided to keep the phony money, believing it would one day come in handy.

He grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and returned to the living room. Grimes’s men had caught Broken Tooth and dragged him back in through the rear door of the house. The Chinese gangster had suffered bruises and cuts and lost the fake cap on his signature front tooth. In his hands was his prize cricket in its carrying cage.

He handed Leon the bottled water. Whispering, he said, “We’re going to have visitors. When they come in, start moaning like you’re hurt.”

“Sure, boss,” his driver whispered back.

The doorbell chimed. Grimes said, “That must be the ambulance,” and told the Latino gaming agent to answer it. The Latino agent went to the broken front door. It was still on its hinges, and he gently opened it. Pepper and Misty stood outside, wearing miniskirts and halter tops and showing plenty of skin. They brushed past the Latino agent and entered the foyer.

Leon started moaning. Grimes hurried over to him.

“What’s wrong?” Grimes asked.

“I’m hurting all over,” Leon said.

“Lie on your back on the floor.”

Leon got on the floor and kept up the dying-man routine. Grimes looked genuinely concerned. Leon was a major witness to Grimes’s case and was worthless dead.

Misty and Pepper chatted up the Latino gaming agent. The front door was still open, and Misty shut it with her heel. The gaming agents were effectively tied up. Grimes had to deal with Leon, the Latino agent was busy with Pepper and Misty, and the remaining three agents were babysitting Broken Tooth, leaving Cory and Morris free to move Travis into the trunk of the rental parked in the garage without anyone being the wiser.

“You didn’t call our service asking for two girls?” Pepper asked.

“No, ma’am,” the Latino agent said.

Pepper acted put out. “Then who did?”

“Maybe you have the wrong address,” he said.

“Ah, come on. You sure one of you boys didn’t call?” Misty said playfully.

“Ma’am, we’re with the enforcement division of the Nevada Gaming Board,” the agent said, becoming irritated. “You’re going to have to leave.”

Grimes caught the drift of the conversation and lifted his head. “Carlos, tell those whores to hit the road, or I’ll run them in.”

Pepper and Misty left in a huff. The Latino agent shut the door and returned to the living room. “Maybe one of them called the girls,” he said, indicating the stiffs.

“They’re not much use to them now,” Grimes said. “Make yourself useful and search the place.” To Billy he said, “Does your driver feel good enough to give us a statement?”

Leon had returned to his chair and was sipping the bottled water Billy had brought from the kitchen. Billy said, “Are you up for that?”

“I think I can manage,” Leon said.

“I’m talking about going down to the police station and being questioned for an hour or more,” Grimes said, just to be sure Leon understood. “It’s important that we get your statement while the events of what happened are still fresh in your mind.”

“I’m your man,” Leon said.

“Perfect.” Grimes spoke to Billy. “You, too.”

“I’d be more than happy to give you a statement,” Billy said.

Grimes acted like he’d just won the lottery. The local media always made a fuss when the gaming board busted a notorious cheat trying to rip off the town. Grimes was about to be turned into king for a day; if the gaming board didn’t promote him, one of the casinos would lure him away to run security. The future was looking bright for Frankie boy. Moments later, the Latino gaming agent appeared in the living room.

“Hey, Frank, I just found a dead guy in the garage,” he said.

“Jesus Christ. I’m coming.”

Grimes left the room. Leon lowered his water bottle and gave Billy a hard look.

“Is that who I think it is?” his driver whispered.

“I don’t know who you think it is,” Billy whispered back.

“Travis. I heard him talking to Broken Tooth on the phone.”

“So you know.”

“Yeah. He betrayed us. Good riddance,” his driver whispered.

“Cunningham, get the hell over here!”

Grimes filled the living room doorway, his face livid. Billy swallowed hard and obeyed. He followed Grimes through the kitchen into the garage and immediately saw the problem. The garage door was raised. It had been closed when the gaming agents had raided the house. Grimes had spotted the discrepancy and knew that he’d been set up.

The trunk of the rental was open. Travis’s rigid body lay inside. Grimes grabbed Billy by the collar and pulled the young hustler down so his face was next to the dead man’s.

“Who is this guy? And don’t tell me you don’t know him.”

“So help me God, I’ve never seen him in my life,” Billy said.