“Now the fun starts,” he said.
Bronco walked away from Big Bertha, then turned around to watch the scene unfold. Big Bertha’s bells were still ringing, and several employees were hurrying over to where Bo and Karen stood. Winning a million-dollar jackpot was like something out of a dream, and Karen played her part to the hilt. Dropping her pail of quarters on the floor, she jumped up and down and screamed with delight.
“You see,” Bo said over the clamor. “Virgin luck.”
Karen slapped her husband on the behind. A mob of patrons had assembled around her, and an elderly woman with blue hair stepped forward.
“Can I ask you a favor?” the woman asked.
“What’s that?” Karen said.
“Can I touch you?”
“You want to touch me?”
“For luck,” the woman explained.
Karen let the elderly woman touch her sleeve. Others in the crowd stepped forward and did the same thing. There was something about her wedding dress that made the event seem nothing short of magical.
Soon, a half-dozen casino employees were hovering around the newlyweds. One had a camera, and took Karen and Bo’s picture in front of Big Bertha. Another had a clipboard, and helped Karen fill out the necessary paperwork for the Internal Revenue Service so Karen could claim her jackpot. While this was happening, Big Bertha’s bells continued to ring, the casino happy to let its customers know that every once in a while, people did go home winners.
That afternoon, Bronco followed Bo and Karen around the casino. Everywhere they went, someone wanted to shake Karen’s hand, or get their picture taken with her. The attention seemed to bother her, and her beautiful face turned into a deep frown.
They went to the craps pit. Bo was playing on a line of credit that the casino had extended him, the casino people their new best friends.
“I want to go home,” she said loudly.
“We still have to collect the jackpot money,” Bo said.
“Can’t they send it to us?”
An apprehensive look crossed Bo’s face, and he pulled her aside and lowered his voice. “It will look suspicious. We need to stay and collect the million dollars.”
“But, I want to go home,” Karen said.
Bo glanced nervously at Bronco, who stood a few feet away. “Come on, honey. Just one more day. That’s all I’m asking.”
Karen glanced Bronco’s way as well. Her attitude had changed dramatically, the reality of what she’d done slowly settling in. She spoke in a hushed voice to her husband. Bronco couldn’t read lips, yet knew exactly what Karen was saying. She was living a lie, and wanted it to end. And Bo was trying to pacify her, knowing damn well there was nothing he could do about it.
Bronco stayed at a seedy motel down the road from the Cal Neva. The next morning he rose early, and spent thirty minutes putting fingernail polish on his face. When it dried, dozens of wrinkles appeared, making him look like an old man.
He drove to the Cal Neva, and had breakfast in the coffee shop. He chose a table that let him eat and watch the elevator banks at the same time. At nine, Bo and Karen came downstairs and went to the registration desk. The casino’s GM greeted them, then took them to his office and shut the door. Although Bronco had never been present when a jackpot was paid, he knew the procedure. The GM would make Karen sign some papers, and give her the money in a cheap briefcase. The GM would also ask them if they’d like an armed escort to take the money to their car. Then he’d shake hands, and invite them back to his casino the next time they were in town.
At nine-twenty, Bo and Karen left the GM’s office, and disappeared into an elevator. Bronco paid for his breakfast and walked out of the coffee shop. Normally, he would have met up with the Farmers at another location, and cut up the money. But last night’s conversation had bothered him. People who got scared did stupid things. He went to the house phone and called their suite.
“It’s me. Which suite you in?” Bronco asked
“Number four oh four,” Bo said.
“I’ll be right up.”
A minute later Karen showed him into the suite. As she shut the door, Bronco glanced into her eyes. Still scared,he thought. Bo had spilled the money onto the floor, and was lying face-down in it, doing the Australian crawl. Minus federal taxes, their winnings came to six-hundred and forty-five thousand dollars. Bronco got onto his knees and started stacking the money into two piles.
“You mind my asking you a question?” Karen asked.
“Shoot.”
“How did you get all those wrinkles?”
Bronco looked up at her. “I spread fingernail polish mask on my face, let it dry, then scrunched my face around until it looks like wrinkles.”
“You know all the angles, don’t you,” Karen said.
Bronco finished stacking the money and stood up. There were six stacks of one hundred thousand each, with ten grand on the side. With his foot he pushed two of the one hundred thousand stacks toward Bo, then began stuffing the rest into the briefcase. When Bo did not object, Karen let out a shriek.
“You lied to me,” she said to her husband.
Bo swallowed hard. “It’s still a lot of money.”
“You lied to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“ On our wedding day.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“ God damn you, Bo!”
Bronco found himself feeling sorry for Karen. “How much did he tell you?”
Her eyes had welled with tears. “Half.”
“Three hundred grand?”
“Yes.”
Bronco thought he understood. For three hundred grand, Karen had been willing to stand in front of a slot machine in her wedding dress, and let a man she hardly knew steal a jackpot. But not for a penny less. He edged closer to her. In a quiet voice he said, “You want the rest of your money?”
Karen swiped at her eyes and nodded stiffly.
“I’ll give you my half if you dump this loser, and hit the road with me.”
“ What?”
“The wedding dress is perfect cover. We can hit a couple of casinos a week, make out like bandits.”
Karen backed away from him with a horrified look on her face. “Get away from me. Bo, make him get away from me.”
Bronco felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, and spin him around. Bo was standing directly behind him, his fist cocked. Bronco tried to duck as the punch connected with the right side of his face. He dropped the briefcase as he fell.
“You crummy son-of-a-bitch,” Bo said, towering over him. “You think you’re a big shot with your skeleton keys and magnets and your money. Well, you can keep that shit. Just get out of our lives. Understand?”
Bronco took a deep breath and rose on unsteady legs while staring at Karen. She had that sultry look he’d always liked. As if reading his thoughts, Bo stepped forward and shoved him into the wall. “Stop looking at her like that! She’s mine, understand? I should kill you for looking at her like that.”
But Bronco couldn’t stop looking. Seeing Karen in her wedding dress yesterday had stirred emotions in him that he’d thought had died long ago. She was too good for this loser, and he said, “She won’t be yours for long.”
Bo’s mouth dropped open.
“You lied to her,” Bronco said. “On her wedding day. Think about it.”
Bo pulled his arm back to strike him. Bronco wasn’t going to eat another punch, and drew a silver-handled gun from his pants pocket, aimed at Bo’s chest, and squeezed the trigger. The shot made a loud Pop!, the bullet passing through Bo’s heart like a tiny meteor. Bo crumpled to the floor and did not move.
Bronco tossed his money into the cheap briefcase. Opening the door, he glanced back at Karen. She knelt beside her dying husband and was sobbing. She looked at him, as if to say, Why?
“You deserve better,” Bronco said.
Chapter 2