Fast and Loose (12 page)

Mary Alice's eyes filled with tears as her head frantically bobbed up and down so fast, the air moved around her head to create a breeze.

“I thought you'd see it my way,” Sparrow said happily. “I'll meet you all at the elevator. I want to go through this suite one more time, just to be on the safe side.”

Ten minutes later, the foursome climbed into a rental SUV with tinted windows. Sparrow sat in the passenger seat up front, while PIP and the female operative sat in the back.

Traffic was a bear, as the operative put it. Traveling from The Venetian to Babylon should have taken less than ten minutes, but with all the traffic, it took a full thirty to get them to a parking spot in the first-floor parking garage. Earlier, Sparrow had been the one who rooted around in the maintenance room until he found four bright orange road cones and who then positioned them in the parking space so it would be available to them on their return. He climbed out, stacked the cones, and carried them back to the maintenance room.

Sparrow practiced his tradecraft the way he always did when he found himself in strange surroundings. He was instantly aware of everything around him. He saw two cars move, one parking, one backing out. He heard and half saw the stairwell door open, saw a figure walk through the opening and continue down the side of the garage just as the doors of the SUV opened to allow PIP and the operatives to climb out. Nothing bothered him or put him on alert until he saw PIP jerk and point, and he knew she was about to try to scream or shout.

Sparrow ran across the garage, expertly avoiding the car backing out of its spot and straightening out. He watched as PIP frantically pawed at the jeweled collar around her throat, her eyes wild and yet pleading, as her arms and hands jabbed forward.

“Take it off!” Sparrow ordered. The operative did as she was told.

Mary Alice gasped again and again as she struggled to draw air into her lungs. “That was RC! I just saw him. When the door to the stairs opened, he walked right out into the garage and went that way!” she croaked hoarsely as she pointed to her left.

Sparrow didn't stop to think or to wonder if the woman was lying. He reacted to the moment and his long years of training. He ran, shouting over his shoulders for the operatives to reconnect the collar and take PIP to the concierge floor.

Sparrow was glad at the moment for all the early morning hours he had spent in the gym. He wasn't even breathing hard, much less breaking a sweat, as he tore outside, brought up his hand to his forehead to ward off the sun, and searched to see if PIP was telling the truth. There was no sign of the big man whom she and Tookus had described. He squinted to let his mind race. The frantic young woman had seen someone who was on her radar. Like he had half seen someone exiting the garage door. He looked right and left and saw a young man in a brown uniform patrolling the perimeter of the casino.

“Hey, did you happen to see a really big guy out here in the past few minutes?” Sparrow asked.

“Yeah, and he was clipping along. That's for sure. He went that way,” the man in the brown uniform said, pointing a finger to the left of the driveway. “There's a side street over there, and sometimes cabs line up there. I think he hailed a cab. Can't be sure, because I really wasn't paying attention. He was big, though.”

Sparrow took a deep breath. “Describe big!” He fished around in his pocket and withdrew a twenty-dollar bill and held it out as an incentive.

“Well now, let me think. You look to be around six-two, right?”

Sparrow nodded.

“Okay, that guy had twelve inches on you. You know that Asian guy who played basketball? Yao Ming, I think. He was that tall. Weight-wise . . . close to three hundred pounds, but even so, he moved easily. He didn't, you know, lumber the way some fat guys do. This guy was not fat. He was just big. Does that help?”

“Have you ever seen him before around the casino?”

“Nah. I'd remember someone that big. Check and see if there's a line of cabs over on the side street. Talk to them. I really think he took a cab, so I must have seen something out of the corner of my eye.”

After handing over the twenty, Sparrow took off at a fast sprint. There were four cabs parked in a line. He walked up to the first one in line and posed his question. The driver just stared at him until Sparrow handed over a fifty-dollar bill, because that was all he had in his pocket.

“Yeah, a great big guy did come this way. Couldn't make up his mind if he was going to take a cab or not. Then someone else came along and climbed in. He left, went down this street, and the only thing in that direction is a crummy park with a little pond that's all scummy. Sorry I can't be more help.”

“What about the other drivers? Do you know them?”

“In a manner of speaking. The two behind me speak little to no English. The last guy I don't know at all. They all just sit there and read their papers while they wait for a fare. The last guy in line is a foreigner, too. He might speak English, but I'm not sure.”

Since he was out of cash, Sparrow also figured he was out of options, so he ignored the last cab in line and ran down the street, toward what the first cabdriver had described as a crummy park with a scummy pond. He was right on both counts. An overweight teenager was throwing a Frisbee to a yellow Lab, who jumped in the air to catch it. Sparrow chuckled to himself as he toyed with the idea of telling the kid to have the dog toss the Frisbee so he could run to catch it.

Instead he said, “Hey, kid. Did you see a big guy come through here a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Did you see where he went?”

“Nope.” He tossed the Frisbee high in the air.

“You sure?” Sparrow asked skeptically, his gaze sweeping the area for clues.

“Dude, I am so sure. You want me to swear on a Bible or something?”

“No. Nice dog. What's his name?”

“It's a her, not a him, and her name is Nellie. Why do you care what her name is? What? You writing a book or something?” the kid asked belligerently.

“Are all you kids so fresh, or is it just you?” Sparrow demanded. He shook his head as he walked away, wondering what had ever happened to courtesy and manners. His shoulders sagged as he walked back the way he'd just come. He'd been
that
close.

When Sparrow was out of sight, the chunky young boy said, “You can come out now, mister. He's gone.”

Philonias Needlemeyer stepped out from behind a thick, twelve-foot-high, overgrown privet hedge, which had concealed him from sight. He handed some folded-up bills to the boy and tweaked Nellie's ears before he strode off. His heart pounding in his chest, Philonias exited the crummy park and flagged down a taxi. Two bad ideas in one day. Three mistakes. Things were not looking good.

All he knew was that they were somehow onto him, and he wasn't sure how he should or
could
get rid of them. Whoever the
them
were. He wished now that he had paid more attention to the little skirmish he'd seen out of the corner of his eye as he raced around the corner of the garage. That little to-do had to be something the guy chasing him was involved with. Who were they? How did they get onto him?

Chapter 11

M
aggie looked down at her cell phone, then at Jack, just as their waitress appeared to refill their water glasses. Her eyes were full of questions, the main one being: “Leave or not leave?” She shook her head. The spaghetti and meatballs were just waiting to be devoured, and besides, she hadn't had a chance to put her plan into action. Whatever was going to go down back at Babylon could wait. With Charles, Fergus, and Sparrow in charge, she didn't see the need to hustle back. She did love spaghetti and meatballs, and the sauce was just the way she liked it. She sucked on a long strand of spaghetti, the way she'd done when she was a kid. Jack laughed and did the same thing. Harry grimaced, his eyes on the long table in the Reservation Room.

Maggie was well on her way to finishing her third meatball when one of the women got up from the table, walked around the end, and headed for the ladies' room. Maggie was on her feet in a second and headed in the same direction. All Harry and Jack could do was stare at her retreating back.

“What the . . . ,” Harry said.

Jack sucked up another long strand of spaghetti. He looked over at Harry. “I think that's her plan. Whatever it might be. I'm thinking we should probably finish up here, ask for the check, and be ready to leave. Something tells me when she comes out of that room, she's going to head straight for the front door. Or . . . she is going to join those women at the table. If I were a betting man, I'd go with she's going to be joining the ladies.”

Harry popped a thick slice of cucumber into his mouth. “And you know this . . . how?” He crunched down, his eyes never leaving the table where the women were seated.

“Pure gut instinct,” Jack said, waving for the waitress to compute their bill.

Inside the restroom, Maggie headed straight for the sink, crying and sobbing, as though her heart were breaking. All she had to do to make herself cry at any given moment was to remember the day her beloved dog Daisy died. Even though it had been years since the little dog passed over the Rainbow Bridge, the memory was still painful.

The fourth stall at the end of the room opened, and a young woman with a long auburn ponytail rushed up to her. “What's wrong, honey? Are you okay? Are you sick? Do you want me to call someone? Let me help you.”

Maggie raised her head and stared into bright blue eyes. She continued to sob. “Do you know how to fix a broken heart?”

“No, no, sweetie, I don't. I wish I did. Been there, though. I'll tell you what all my friends told me. No man is worth your tears. You know what else? Your heart isn't broken. You can't break a heart, because a heart is a muscle. Your heart is just bruised. That means it will heal, even if you don't think so right now. You aren't buying this, are you?” the woman said with a wry grin.

Maggie shook her head. “He promised me the world. He said I was his soul mate. That he wanted to grow old with me. I was supposed to be the mother of our children. He said he wanted four kids, all girls, and for them to look like me. I believed him. I came all the way from Washington because I hadn't heard from him for over three weeks.
Three weeks.
That's an eternity! I met him eight months ago, when I came here to visit my brother. He said we could make a long-distance relationship work, and I believed him. It was all a lie! Oh, God!” Maggie wailed again.

“I've called and called and sent dozens of texts. He never responded, so that's why I came here. Then my brother, who warned me about him when I first started dating him, said he saw him with a beautiful showgirl. I refused to believe him. That's another reason why I came here. I wanted to confront him in person, but I can't reach him. He said we would get engaged next month. He promised me a three-carat emerald-cut diamond. I didn't care about a ring. It could be a zircon, for all I cared. He has money, because he really wined and dined me. He promised a fall wedding, because I love autumn, and he said he did, too.” Maggie sobbed harder.

“My brother lives and works here, and he warned me that Dix was a playboy, a love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of guy, but did I listen? Hell, no! Would you listen to your brother or to the man who professed undying love? Oh, God! Oh, God! What am I going to do? I love him so much. Maybe he's sick or in the hospital. I need to check that.” Maggie reached for a wad of paper towels and blew her nose. More hard sobs followed as she remembered how she'd wrapped Daisy in a soft, fluffy pink towel. She started to shake then for real, the memory was so strong. “I don't think I can live without him. I don't want to live without him. Oh, God, what am I going to do?”

The young woman, who said her name was Hana, wrapped Maggie in her arms and mouthed soothing words. Maggie had no idea what she was saying.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . You've been very kind to someone you don't even know. I need to clean up here and go back to . . . to my brother. He's outside. He and a friend of his brought me here to cheer me up. My brother works at the casino where I'm staying. It's free for me. It's where . . .
he
works, too.”

“Did I hear you call him Dix?” Hana asked.

“Did I? I can barely say it out loud, but yes, that's his name. He's some big shot at the casino. At least my brother said he was. Jack—that's my brother—wanted to punch out his lights, but then he'd lose his job, and he needs the job. His friend Harry is a big martial arts guru, and he said he could cripple him or something. Oh, God, I don't want him hurt. I love him. I don't know what to do! Tell me what to do before I lose my mind.” Maggie started to wail again, a high keening sound of pure misery, as she recalled how she'd handed the fluffy pink bundle over to the vet.

“You just wait right here, honey. Wash your face and stop crying. I'll be right back.”

Outside, Jack handed his credit card to the waitress and stood up to follow her to the cashier. “Move it, Harry.”

“What about Maggie?”

“If I'm not mistaken, Maggie is going to be joining that party of women any minute now. See those three women heading for the restroom? That's Maggie's plan. If you can't beat them, join up. In her mind, I guess she thinks it will work. I gotta say, I didn't see that coming. She's got guts. I'll give her that,” Jack said.

Outside and fast approaching their rental van, Jack and Harry stepped aside to avoid running into Snowden and his two operatives. After Harry and Jack were ensconced in the van, Snowden joined them, while his operatives remained on the sidewalk. As far as Jack could tell, no one was paying any attention to any of them.

“Nice sleight of hand, Snowden. That was so slick, I almost missed it,” Jack said.

Snowden inclined his head to show he also marveled at his own sleight of hand. Snowden did have an ego. “What's taking Maggie so long? You guys know it's never good to stay in one place more than a few minutes. Especially out in the open like this.”

Jack filled in Snowden on what he thought Maggie was doing. “Look, I could be wrong, but knowing Maggie, it's the only thing that makes sense. Think about it. I actually believe she can make it work.”

“It's too pat. There is no way she can pull something like that off. That bunch of women reeks of savvy to me,” Snowden growled, displeased that Maggie had taken matters into her own hands without his approval.

Like lightning, Harry swiveled around and put out his hand, the palm a hair from Snowden's face. “You do not know Maggie.” His tone was low and menacing.

Snowden didn't bat an eye, and he didn't back down. “I may not know what makes Maggie Spritzer tick, but I do know women! And there is no way in hell that bunch of women is going to welcome her, a total stranger, into whatever they're planning.”

Jack and Harry both burst out laughing.

“First of all, Snowden, the man hasn't been born that knows what women are all about,” Jack said. “If you think you do, then you're a fool. Since we're in the gambling mecca of our country, I'm willing to make a wager, and Harry, too. We're putting our money on Maggie, ten big ones. What do you say, Snowden? Put up or shut up.”

“You're on, hotshot! I concede that I might not know
everything
about women, but I do know a lot. So the bet is Maggie is going to worm her way into the group, they're going to accept her and spill their guts to her, and she will, in turn, spill her guts to us. That's the bet. I just want to be sure.”

“That's the bet,” Harry said.

“What's the time frame?” Snowden barked, his eyes suddenly worried.

“Ninety minutes for lunch, ten minutes saying good-bye, another ten minutes arranging another meet, travel back to Babylon . . . two, two and a half hours. Three at the most. Make sure you have your money ready, and Harry and I do not take checks. Beat it now. We're heading back to the casino. I'm suddenly feeling lucky.”

Snowden offered up his famous single-digit salute, but he did exit the van to return to the Cat & Cradle to keep his eye on what was going on.

“I never did like that guy,” Harry said.

“Me, either, but Charles swears by him. It's a Brit thing, I guess.”

“Jack, you okay with leaving Maggie here?”

“Yeah. Maggie is smart enough to know we'll figure out what she's doing. She's a big girl. She can get back on her own. She's fast on her feet and quick on the draw. You know that. If there is a downside, it's that she isn't going to be able to trail around with Kelly and the boys anymore, and that alone will make her happy. One of those women might spot her, and her cover story, whatever it is, gets blown out of the water. She'll be fine, trust me.”

“Okay, if you say so. Wonder what's going on right now.”

What was going on was that the two women Hana had brought back to the restroom were consoling Maggie and inviting her to join them for lunch. She protested a little and wailed some more when they exited the restroom.

“Look. My brother and his friend left. I don't blame them. They're sick of hearing me cry and whine.” She swabbed at her eyes again. She wondered how bad she looked, not that she cared.

“Don't you give it another thought, sweetie. We'll make sure you get back to your hotel safe and sound. We're all going to help you. All of us,” Hana Frey said as she pointed to the twenty-five women sitting at the table and eyeing her curiously. “We're actually a club. Of sorts,” she said vaguely. “That means we've all been in your shoes and know what you're going through. We help each other. We're going to help you, too, because that's what we women do. We're always there for each other. I just want you to know you can count on us.”

Kitty Passion, the shill and the newest member of the group by two years, held up her hand. “I'm not sure this is the place to discuss what needs to be discussed. I have an idea. How about we just have lunch, split up, and meet out at the ranch this evening and have a regular sleepover? We can grill some steaks, drink some wine, and have a regular girl fest. And, of course, figure out how we can help Maggie.”

The ranch Kitty was referring to was a recent inheritance and the reason she'd moved to Las Vegas from Philadelphia. While she didn't have as much tenure as the others, she'd stepped up to the plate and become a regular within weeks of moving to Las Vegas two years ago. The fact that she was young and had been a showgirl in Atlantic City had aced her acceptance into the group. The women loved going out to the ranch and just doing girl things on their days off. Once Kitty became comfortable with the group, she'd handed out keys and said, “
Mi casa, su casa
.” She'd gone on to say they were welcome anytime, and there was no need to call ahead. There was only one rule, and that was that no men were to be brought to the ranch.

Kitty's initiation into the group was that she had to meet Dixson Kelly, make him fall for her, then keep him at arm's length. She was to lead him on, then pull back, to give him a taste of his own medicine. Kitty had gone at it full bore and had ended up with Dixson calling her at all hours of the day and night. Her last report to the club members was that she had him right where she wanted him, salivating and begging her to go out with him. She, in turn, had told him she was saving herself for marriage and was not some fast and loose chippie. Saving herself meant she was a virgin. She had giggled when she told the club that Dixson had done everything but howl at the moon.

Maggie finally stopped crying, did a few hiccups for good measure, and started to sip at her glass of wine. Charles would have been appalled at the way the women chattered and babbled as they ate their Caesar salads and swigged down wine. Within minutes, Maggie knew she was being interrogated, and it was so masterfully done, she was in awe. No one brought up Dixson Kelly's name; nor did Maggie mention it again. She stayed with her story as they asked in various ways the how, the when, and the what of her relationship with the Vegas honcho, as they called her lover. Between tears and a few sobs, she got her story out.

“I was out of my league. I think I even knew it, but I was in love. I mean, look at me, ladies. I'm a ‘what you see is what you get' kind of girl. I'm not beautiful like you all are. Kitty said you're all showgirls. That's the kind of girl he should have been attracted to, not someone like me. I was so flattered. I couldn't believe he hit on me when he did. I guess I'm the stupid one, because when he said he was fed up with false eyelashes, war paint, contact lenses that were all colors of the rainbow, and hair that wasn't real, I believed him. He said he liked running his hands through my curly hair because it didn't come off in his hands.

“When he kissed me, I thought he was going to suck out my tonsils. I'm going to miss that. He used to trace my freckles with his forefinger. He said my freckles were endearing. Then he said he was glad I didn't wear gobs of makeup, because he hated having to send his suits to the cleaners after a date, because sometimes the makeup didn't come out, and he'd have to toss the suit. He wore custom-made suits, too. But he said he didn't have to worry about that anymore, now that he'd met me.”