“Yes. Please tell him. Goodbye.”
The line went dead, and Mabel dropped the receiver in its cradle, then typed a command into Tony’s computer and went into his email account. Within moments, she was staring at several dozen email messages. She scrolled through them and found Crawford’s, which was marked with a red flag. She opened it.
Tony,
You are in danger. The FBI is tapping the phones of Bronco Marchese’s lawyer, Kyle Garrow. Garrow is calling around Reno, trying to get someone to take a contract on your life. So far, no takers, but you know how things work out here. Someone will take the job, and come gunning for you. Please keep this to yourself. The tap is illegal, and could land us all in hot water. I will let you know when I learn more. Be careful, my friend.
Darren
Mabel felt an icy finger run down her spine. A contract on Tony’s life? She thought she was going to get sick, and snatched the phone off the desk. Her boss never kept his cell phone on, but Gerry did, and she punched in his number.
Valentine and his son were standing by the pool behind Bronco’s house when Gerry’s cell phone rang. Gerry answered it, then handed the phone to his father.
“Mabel needs to talk to you.”
“Hey good looking, what’s up?” Valentine said into the phone.
“You’re not going to believe the e-mail you just received.” She read the email Crawford had sent. “You need to stay away from Reno until the FBI finds out whose going to take this contract on your life.”
Valentine stared at the desolate backyard. He should have been shocked, yet he wasn’t. He and Bronco had a history that was written in blood. One day, one of them was going to kill the other, and he had a feeling that day was about to come.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said.
“Of course I’m right. To be forewarned is to be forearmed.”
He found himself nodding. Mabel, the voice of reason.
“Okay,” he said.
“Oh, Tony, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. Remember, I’ve got Gerry to protect me.”
“Now you’re being funny. Please be careful.”
“I will.” He thanked his neighbor and folded the phone. They went inside the house, and found Bill in the living room gathering evidence.
“Change of plans. I’m not going to Reno to interview Bronco,” Valentine said.
Bill looked confused. “How can you conduct this case, and not talk to our only suspect?”
“Bronco’s trying to hire a hit man to kill me. I don’t want to go until I know who the hit man is. Make sense?”
“Sure. Who tipped you off?”
“A little bird.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Switch to Plan B.”
“Which is?”
“I know an inmate in the Jean Correctional Facility for Women in Las Vegas,” Valentine said. “She sends me letters. In one, she described getting approached by a guy in a casino, who asked her to play a slot machine a certain way. She did, and won a jackpot. I think the guy who approached her was your bad agent.”
Bill stared at him. “She’s actually met him?”
“Yes. It was a few years ago. If I talk to her, I’m sure I can get a description.”
Bill suddenly looked mad as hell, and Valentine guessed Bill was thinking they should have talked to Lucy Price first.
“This woman’s had a hard life,” Valentine explained when they were in Bill’s car a few minutes later. “I didn’t want to implicate her in another crime if I didn’t have to. I know how the courts treat cheaters out here.”
“You think even if she cooperated, we’d screw her?” Bill asked.
“Name a cheater or an accomplice you haven’t screwed.”
Bill shook his head and stared at the road.
Chapter 12
Jean Correctional Facility was situated on the north end of Las Vegas. The prison was a depressing complex of sandy brown buildings surrounded by eight-foot chain link fence topped with razor wire. Bill parked in the visitor lot and they got out. The sun was broiling hot, and felt like an oven.
The prison’s main building was three stories high and resembled a school house. Bill showed his credentials to the receptionist, and the warden appeared in the reception area a few minutes later. Being the most powerful law enforcement agent in the state had its privileges, and the warden agreed to Bill’s request to bring Lucy Price to the visitor’s area as soon as she could be found. When the warden was gone, Bill said, “I guess you’d like to talk to this woman alone.”
“That’s the only way she’s going to cooperate,” Valentine said.
Bill and Gerry headed down the hallway toward a sign that said cafeteria. Stopping at the door, Gerry glanced back at his father.
“Good luck, Pop.”
Valentine went into the visitor’s room and took a seat behind a three-inch sheet of plexiglass used to keep prisoners and visitors apart. The room was empty, and he stared at the vacant seat on the other side of the glass. The last time he’d seen Lucy was the day she’d been sentenced. It had been one of the hardest days of his life. Through the plexiglass he saw a door open, and felt the air catch in his throat.
Lucy entered the visitor’s room and sat down stiffly in the chair across from him. She wore a drab brown uniform, no make-up, and had her dark hair tied in a braid. Her face was filled with sadness. Despite the plainness of her appearance and her dark expression, there was no denying the affect she had upon him. To Valentine’s eyes, she appeared to be spun from light.
“It was the letter,” she said. “That’s why you came.”
He blinked, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”
“Please don’t play games with me, Tony.”
“I’m not playing games.”
“The letter I sent last week. Don’t tell me you didn’t get it.”
He shrugged helplessly. “No.”
“Did you get any of my letters?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Did you read them?”
“Yes, I read all of them. I still have them.”
“But not the letter I sent last week.”
Despite his advancing years, Valentine’s memory wasn’t fading. He shook his head.
“Oh, for the love of Christ, then why are you here?” she said.
“I need your help.”
Lucy leaned forward, her breath fogging the plexiglass. She was a slender, fifty-two year old woman who reminded him more of his late wife than any female he’d ever met. Maybe that was why he’d fallen so helplessly in love with her.
“I can’t help you, Tony,” she said. “I have a shrink inside the prison who I see every week. He wants me to stay away from you. He thinks you’re part of my problem. That’s what my letter said.”
“I’m part of your problem?”
Her eyes were glistening. “In a figurative sense, yes. You’re in the gambling business. I’m a degenerate gambler, and I’ve always been attracted to people in the business. Old boyfriends, my ex-husband, you. My shrink wants me to stop writing you, and break off our relationship.”
Valentine leaned back in his chair. For some reason, he’d thought that Lucy would always be in his life, even if from a distance.
“Forever?”
She smiled like he’d made a joke. “You want to see me when I get out?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then quit the casino business.”
Lucy would be getting out in five years if she behaved herself. Maybe by then he’d be sick of catching cheaters, and be ready to retire.
“All right,” he heard himself say.
“I mean right now.”
“How can I quit now? I’m on a job.”