Take Down

SIXTY-FIVE

His heart was still pounding as he pulled into the parking lot of Ly’s motel. He’d had members of his crew leave before, usually for personal reasons, but he’d never had to fire anyone. Cutting Cory and Morris loose was tearing him apart, and he didn’t know why.

He rapped softly on the door to Ly’s room. He’d promised to drive Ly to LA and didn’t see any reason to wait. He needed to get her out of Vegas before the gaming board ran her down and held her feet to the fire.

“Go away, or I’ll call the cops,” a woman that wasn’t Ly said through the door.

He backed away from the door, knowing he was being watched through the peephole.

“Sorry.”

He walked around the building and entered the tiny office that served as registration. The young Latina working the desk was the same one who’d checked him in, a tough little number with lots of makeup. She unplugged herself from an iPod and arched her eyebrows.

“Have you seen my friend? She isn’t answering her door.”

“Your Asian friend checked out,” the Latina said.

Ly didn’t have enough money to buy a bus ticket, and Billy wondered where she’d gone.

“Did she say where she was going?”

“I don’t like to get involved with people’s business,” the Latina said, “but since you paid for her room, I’ll tell you. Your friend met a guy in the restaurant, a software salesman out of Reno. He stays here a lot. Your friend left with him.”

“You don’t say. Decent guy?”

“The women seem to like him.”

That solved that problem. He started to back out of the office. The Latina wasn’t done with him. “You had another visitor. She’s still here.”

“Who’s that?”

The Latina said, “Try the pool,” and plugged herself back in.

He walked around the building to a metal gate that required a room key for entrance, and hopped over it. The pool was deserted except for a beautiful woman sound asleep in a lounge chair. As he drew closer, the breath caught in his throat. It was Mags.

A tired smile formed at the corners of his mouth. He’d wanted to strangle her a few days ago, but those feelings had faded away. She’d stepped up to the plate when it counted, and shown her true colors. And when she’d gotten sprung out of jail, she’d run straight to him.

His smile grew. He realized that it had all been worth it-the beatings, getting thrown in jail, the whole nine yards. He’d do it again if it meant Maggie Flynn would be waiting for him when it was all over. If that wasn’t a definition of a fool in love, he didn’t know what was.

“Hey.”

Her eyes snapped open. She stood up slowly, uncertain of where they stood.

“I never thought you’d come,” she said.

“I was tying up some loose ends. How’d you find me?”

“I asked your lawyer after he bailed me out of jail. He said a friend of yours was holed up here, that you might come by.”

“My friend split.”

“So I heard. God, do you smell rank. You need a good bath.”

It sounded like an invitation. He didn’t know what to say, and just stared.

“I rented a room. Want to see it?”

They showered together, soaping down each other’s bodies beneath the steaming spray. His body was tense and it took a while before he relaxed. He’d been in some tight spots, but nothing like what he’d just gone through. For the next few hours he was going to pretend that it had never happened and that the brutal memories banging around in his head weren’t real.

They toweled each other off. She led him into the bedroom while holding his prick. She was in control, and he was more than willing to be her slave. She told him to lose the bedspread, and he whisked it away like a nightclub magician and threw it on the floor.

She clicked her fingers and pointed at the bed. He lay down obediently, and she mounted him. He had imagined this moment so many times that he didn’t think it would live up to his expectations. Dreams rarely did.

He was wrong. Being inside her was heaven, and the room started to move as if they were having an earthquake. Shutting his eyes, he thought about the lengths they’d traveled to reach this cheap motel room. The odds of them connecting had to be a trillion-to-one. If that wasn’t fate, he didn’t know what was.

Done, he took several exhilarating breaths.

“Want to do it again?” she asked.

Early the next morning, his Droid started making rude noises. Caller ID said it was Cory, king of the fuckups. Mags was out like a light, and he slid out of bed and took the call in the john.

“What do you want?”

“Hey, Billy, me and Morris just wanted to say hi, see how things are going,” Cory said. Everything’s cool here. No gaming board at the doorstep, ha-ha.”

“Hi, Billy,” came Morris’s voice in the background.

“What do you want?”

“We’ve been working on this cool scam with a hotel concierge,” Cory said. “We need someone with experience to make the play, so we called you. We won’t let you down this time, and that’s a promise from both of us.”

Scams involving a hotel’s concierge were the bread and butter of many hustlers’ existence. The suckers were usually rich suckers with supersized egos and zero common sense. They took their beatings in stride, and their checks never bounced. He realized he wanted to hear what Cory and Morris had cooked up.

“Lay it on me.”

“You want to hear the scam? Really?”

“Yeah, and it’s the only reason. Start talking.”

“Okay. You’re going to love this. This software king from Silicon Valley flies into Vegas each month to host a private poker game at the Palms. Fifty-thousand-dollar buy-in, winner take all. The sucker brings five of his buddies with him and has the hotel concierge invite a local player to round out the field. Now, here’s the good part. The sucker’s afraid of getting cheated, so he buys the cards for the game from the hotel gift shop. Morris bribed the manager of the gift shop, and we stacked the shelves with a hundred decks of marked cards. The sucker will be bringing marked cards to his own game, and he won’t even know it.”

“What marking system did you use?”

“We juiced them. Just throw your eyes out of focus, and the marks pop out.”

“Juiced them how?”

“We used aniline dye mixed with pure grain alcohol and applied it to the borders with an airbrush. We cut glycerin into the mix to help bring back the shine after the dye was applied to the card. It was a lot of work, but the payoff will be huge.”

“Were you smoking dope when you did it?”

“No way, we’re off the dope. We learned our lesson.”

“You still haven’t explained the play.”

“Morris is buddies with the concierge at the Palms,” Cory said, his voice growing excited. “The concierge will front for you and get you into the game. You know the rest. We’ll go fifty-fifty with you, after we pay off the concierge. The sucker is flying in Tuesday night. So what do you say? Are you in?”

Marking cards was an art and a science. If the marks were too strong, they could be seen under a bright light, exposing the scam to everyone at the table. Knowing Cory and Morris, they probably hadn’t let all of the marked decks dry properly, and a couple decks in the Palms gift shop had too much dye on them. If by chance the Silicon Valley sucker purchased a bad deck and spotted the not-so-invisible marks, he and his pals would put two and two together and know that the stranger in the game was at fault and throw Billy off the balcony.

“You must be out of your fucking mind,” he said.

“Why? What did we do wrong?” Cory choked on the words.

“Figure it out for yourselves.”

He ended the call and slipped back into bed. The sheets were still warm, and he snuggled up next to Mags and heard her murmur.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“No one important,” he said.