22
“Don’t I get a phone call?” I asked.
I was sitting at a marble table in the middle of a sparsely decorated office. The suits were standing near the door, looking at me with bored expressions. One of them had gathered my spilled chips and stacked them neatly on the table. I had no idea where Julianne was.
“You aren’t under arrest,” said the original suit.
“Feels like it.”
“Sorry you feel that way. As I said out there—before you caused a commotion—we just had a few questions for you.”
“So ask them, now that you’re detaining me in here.”
“You aren’t being detained.”
“So I can go?”
“Very soon.”
I pointed at the door behind them. “My wife is an attorney. I guarantee you she’s out there, about to sue the crap out of this place.”
“Perhaps.”
I sighed and leaned back in the chair. I still had no idea what I’d done other than win a bunch of money. I’d never experienced a winning streak like that before, but I doubted this was normal protocol.
As I continued to wonder what was going on, there was a sharp knock on the door and the suits quickly stepped to the side. The door opened.
A woman about my age with long blond hair, a pointed chin, and thick black glasses walked in. She wore a navy blue business suit and a stern expression. She held a sheet of paper, reading it closely.
She glanced at the suits. “Thank you, gentlemen.”
They quickly filed out.
She laid the paper on the table and extended her hand. “Mr. Winters, I’m Myrtle Callaghan, director of security here at Comanche River.”
I did not shake her hand. “Good for you.”
She retracted the hand, unoffended, and sat down in the chair at the head of the table. “I apologize for interrupting your evening.”
“You did more than that.”
“When a patron enjoys a tremendous run of luck like you experienced, we generally send an employee over to make sure everything is on the up-and-up,” she explained. “Does that make sense?”
My inclination was to tell her where to shove her tremendous run of luck, but I could hear Julianne’s voice in my head.
“I have no intention of having a conversation with you,” I said. “Your employees harassed me, and I’ve done nothing wrong. I think I’ll wait until my attorney gets here.”
“To be clear, you aren’t here because you won, Mr. Winters,” Myrtle Callaghan said. “You won fair and square, and I congratulate you.” She motioned to the chips on the table. “That is your money, and you’ll be allowed to take all of it with you when we are finished here. And if you’d like to continue gambling, you are welcome to do that, as well.”
“Then why the hell am I in here?”
Myrtle adjusted her glasses. “You asked a particular question of the dealer who was presiding over your game.”
Now I started to feel a little self-conscious. I kept my mouth closed.
“About an employee with the last name Huber? Do you recall that?”
I squirmed in my seat. “Yes.”
“Can you tell me why you were asking about an employee with that last name?”
“Not really.”
“Not really, Mr. Winters?”
We sat there in silence for a moment, a clock on the wall ticking loudly.
Myrtle adjusted the glasses again. “Mr. Winters, we do, in fact, employ someone with that last name here at Comanche River. But, you see, there’s a little problem.”
“What’s that?”
“Mr. Elliott Huber disappeared several days ago,” she explained. “And it appears he may have taken some of the casino’s money with him.”
23
“Before I came in here,” Myrtle Callaghan said, “I ran a quick background check on you. I saw that you are an investigator. I hoped you might be able to help us or, at the very least, share any information you might have.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that out there?”
“I didn’t want that discussion taking place out on the floor, in front of patrons and other employees. I’m sure you can understand that.”
I could. It made sense. I still wished they would’ve been up front about their reasons rather than going all secret agent on me, but I understood what she was saying.
“I don’t know much,” I said and then told her what I knew.
She nodded when I was finished. “Yes, the cousin is of interest to us, too. He was here. Frequently.”
“Gambling?”
“At times. Another time he applied for a job. But most of the time, it seems as if he came to meet with his cousin.”
“Any idea why?”
She shook her head. “None. But he was here the day before the money disappeared.”
“How did it disappear?”
She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable. “I really can’t share that information at this juncture.”
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t reflect well on the casino and our procedures. We’d prefer to keep it quiet.”
I nodded. “Okay. Can I ask how much money you believe he stole?”
She pursed her lips, thinking hard over the question for a moment. “Fifty-seven thousand dollars, give or take. Given the whole scheme of the business we do here, it’s a very insubstantial sum. But it’s still fifty-seven thousand dollars.”
“I understand. And you’ve heard nothing from him?”
“Nothing. And we’ve been . . . diligent in our attempts to locate him.”
I imagined the suits being very diligent in their attempts to locate him. They’d probably gone easy on me, and I hadn’t stolen any money.
Myrtle Callaghan stood and produced a business card. “If you learn anything, I’d appreciate a phone call. As quickly as possible.”
I fished into my wallet and handed her a card. “Same here.”
She looked at the card, then nodded. “Certainly. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience and interruption of your evening. We’re going to upgrade you to a suite for the evening for your trouble. Just let me know when you and your wife are ready to return to your room and I’ll have our staff move your belongings. I think you’ll be pleased with the new accommodations.”
She stepped to the door and opened it. “Mrs. Winters?”
Julianne stepped into the doorway.
“We’re all finished,” Myrtle said. “I just explained to your husband that we’ll be upgrading your accommodations for the evening. I’ll let him give you the details. My apologies again for the inconvenience.”
Julianne nodded, and Myrtle Callaghan disappeared out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
Julianne’s lips were pressed together tightly, and her arms were still folded across her chest.
“When the pizza showed and you didn’t,” she said, “I figured you were sitting at a table. Or a slot machine. Not playing detective.”
“That’s not what I was doing, Jules.”
“Really?”
“Well, no. I mean, yes. I mean, no. Wait.”
“I thought we came up here for some me and you time.”
“We did.”
“Then I find out you’re down in the casino, hassling some dealer about the King of Soccer.”
“I wasn’t hassling her.”
“And I certainly didn’t expect to find you being tackled by a bunch of security people.”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“Of course not. Maybe you tripped and they fell on you.”
“Jules, come on.”
She poked a thumb over her shoulder. “What did Hot Security Director mean about new accommodations?”
“They’re upgrading us. To a suite. Because I didn’t do anything wrong.”
She chewed on her lip for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, here’s how the rest of the evening is going to go. We’re going to go upstairs and eat, because I’m starving. Then we are going to have boring, uneventful sex, because while I still want a baby, I don’t want to give you the pleasure of having super sexy me. Because you have totally screwed up our night.”
I felt my shoulders sagging.
“So I’m going to lie on my back, and you are going to deposit your sperm in me,” she continued. “There will be no pleasure involved. Think of it as a business transaction. It’s the least you can do. And this suite . . . how big is it?”
“I have no idea, but she said we’d be pleased.”
She turned and opened the door. “Excellent. That means it should be nice and big and roomy. With lots of furniture.”
I stood, thinking she was softening. “Exactly.”
She looked back over her shoulder. “So at least you’ll be able to sleep on a sofa rather than the floor after we’ve had boring, uneventful sex.”
24
I woke up with a knot in my back.
The suite had turned out to be the largest at Comanche River but was furnished with mostly easy chairs rather than sofas. I’d crammed myself into a love seat after having cold, awkward sex with Julianne and spent the night tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. I kept thinking she might come out and invite me to bed, but I should’ve known better.
I sat up and stretched out my legs, trying to unkink my lower back without much luck. I stood and bent over and touched my toes, loosening the muscles as much as I could.
“I’d bow to me, too, if I’d been an idiot last night,” Julianne said.
I stood up. “Good morning.”
She was standing there in an A&M T-shirt and old cotton shorts, holding two coffee mugs. “Back hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” She walked over, handed me a mug, and sat down on the love seat, tucking one leg beneath her. “I love you, Deuce.”
“I love you.”
“But you drive me nuts sometimes.”
I sat next to her. “I know.”
She sipped from the mug. “And let’s not beat around the bush here, okay? You are not the best at this. Not for lack of trying, but you are not the best.”
“I know.”
“Stop being so agreeable.”
“Okay.”
She rolled her eyes, but I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say.
“So my feelings are a little hurt,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, but my feelings are crying. Sobbing, really. You brought me up here under false pretenses, and now I feel like a third wheel.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Oh, it does to me, and, really, you should just be agreeing with me.”
“You just told me to stop being so agreeable.”
“Well, I am allowed to be confusing since you’ve made me feel like a third wheel.”
“Jules.”
She cracked a tiny smile. “So you need to make it up to me.”
“How?”
“Well, I’m not pregnant yet.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”
“A woman always knows.”
“You brought a test with you, didn’t you?”
“Three. In case I needed reassurance.”
I laughed. That sounded exactly right.
“So what are you suggesting?” I asked.
“You know how last night I sort of punished you by having boring, lame sex with you?”
“I remember. Vividly.”
“Let’s do exactly the opposite.”
And that was what we did for the next hour, as I tried to make up for my complete jackassery the night before.
To Julianne’s credit, she forgives. She doesn’t hold grudges. At least against me, she doesn’t. She can go off like a teapot left on the stove for too long, but after the steam has blown off and evaporates, she’s willing to let bygones be bygones. I’m not sure if that’s a product of her personality or a necessity in being married to me. Maybe a little of both.
We enjoyed the rest of the morning in the hotel suite, and then we headed down to the casino floor to spend my winnings from the previous evening. We ended up dumping most of it back into the casino, as my luck was the complete opposite. I couldn’t win a hand to save my life, and I clearly infected Julianne, as she couldn’t win a dime on any slot she pulled. But we had fun doing it, and when we checked out, my idiocy seemed to be in the rearview window.
The car was low on gas, so I crossed the highway when we left the casino parking lot, and pulled into a giant truck stop–slash–gas station to fill up the van. Julianne ran inside to grab a couple of bottles of water, and that was when I noticed the guy watching me.
He was in an orange VW Bug, not the most inconspicuous car to follow someone in, parked off to the side near the main part of the truck stop. I had seen the car pull out of the casino lot behind us and hadn’t thought anything of it. But when I saw the car parked near the store and then the guy’s eyes follow Julianne in and then revert back to me, it seemed pretty clear that he was watching me.
I fiddled with the gas pump, staring at him from behind my sunglasses. He had on a baseball cap over long hair, and he had a really long mustache. He was fidgeting. Something seemed amiss, but I couldn’t place it from a distance.
Julianne came back out from the store with two bottles of water, crossed the lot, and slid back into the seat.
I leaned into my driver’s side window. “Okay, I know I screwed up last night, but what would you think if I said I think someone is following us?”
She unscrewed the cap from one of the bottles. “I’d say I believe you.”
“You would?”
She took a long drink from the bottle. “Yes. The orange Bug, right?”
“How’d you know?”
“I saw him follow us out of the casino and just thought he was a casino freak.” She frowned. “I saw him parked over there when I went into the store.”
“Maybe Victor and I should hire you.”
“Maybe.”
I glanced through the windows on the opposite side of the car. He was still sitting there, watching us.
“I’m going to go talk to him,” I said.
“What should I do?” Julianne asked. “Provide backup?”
“No. Just sit here and look beautiful.”
“You’ve already apologized. There’s no need to resort to flattery.”
“Well, it’s for next time. Like a down payment.”
“Hmmm. I’m not sure I take deposits.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I unhooked the nozzle from the car and set it back on the pump. I closed the gas cap, paused for a moment, and then headed toward the Bug.
He sat up straighter as I approached, but made no move to turn on the car or get out. He tugged on the bill of the baseball cap but, other than that, seemed unfazed by my approach.
I held up a hand. “Hi there.”
His window was down. He looked the other way first, then turned back to me. “Hey.”
“Can I help you?”
He looked the other way again, then came back to me. “We hope so.”
“We?”
“You’re Winters, right?”
“Yeah. Who are you?”
He fingered the mustache. It moved awkwardly, and I realized it was a fake. “Someone who needs your help.”
“Uh, okay.”
He glanced around nervously, then pulled on the bill of his cap again. All of his hair moved at the same time. The wig was a fake, too.
“My cousin and I,” he said, “we need your help.”
“Wait. You’re Moises’s cousin?”
He nodded, and half the mustache came loose. He pressed it back to his lip. “Yes. I’m Elliott.”
“You work at the casino?”
“Yeah. Or I did, I guess.” He glanced around again. “Look, man, we can’t talk here. They might be watching.”
“They?”
“Yeah. Follow me and we can go talk.”
“My wife’s with me.”
“Is she cool?”
“I think so, but she’s my wife.”
He thought hard for a moment. “Okay. Bring her along.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just follow me. But not too close. I need to keep my eyes open for anyone else who might be close behind.”
“Okay.”
He started the Bug and pulled away. He waited at the end of the line of pumps.
I walked back to the car and slid into the driver’s seat. I looked at Julianne. “Feel like going for a drive?”