“Why?”
“Because I planned to use it.” Gerry turned his head and looked Bronco in the eye. “I used to be a bookie. My wife talked me into quitting the rackets, and going into business with my old man. Only, I can’t quit. It’s something in my blood. So I stole one of your little devices.”
“You’re saying you’re a scammer,” Bronco said.
“All my life.”
“Where’s the monkey’s paw you took from my house?”
“In my suitcase in the trunk.”
“Show me,” Bronco said.
Gerry pushed a button beneath the dashboard that popped the trunk, then climbed out of the rental with his hands stuck on his head like a POW. He’d gotten Bronco to start thinking about his own salvation, and sensed that Bronco wasn’t as intent on killing him as he had been a few minutes ago.
Bronco climbed out of the vehicle in his baggy guard’s uniform and cheap prison sandals. He aimed the shotgun at Gerry’s face. Gerry dropped to his knees. Bronco went and flipped open the trunk. There were two suitcases in back.
“Which’s one yours?”
“The black Tumi. The monkey’s paw is on top, wrapped in plastic.”
Bronco unzippered the Tumi. Seeing the monkey’s paw, his eyes lit up like someone who’s found buried treasure. He removed the cheating device along with a shirt and a pair of pants, then slammed the trunk closed. Coming around the rental, he shredded the plastic from the slot-cheating device, then pushed the button that made the strobe light flash on its end.
“You took my favorite one.”
“Lucky me,” Gerry said.
Chapter 27
Valentine hiked down the dirt road back to the highway, all the while staring at the face of his cell phone, waiting for a satellite signal so he’d could make a call. Several times the phone lit up like it was working, only to betray him by losing the signal when he tried to call. He’d hated cell phones and always would. Whenever he went to the movies, some guy who couldn’t make the rent was blabbing loud enough to ruin everyone’s good time. He stared at the one clutched in his hand.
“Come on, you crummy piece of junk,” he said.
He came to a rise in the road, and as he reached the top, saw the cell phone light up. Was it really working, or just trying to torture him? He stopped walking and waited for the signal to disappear. When it didn’t, he began to dial Bill Higgins’ cell phone number, thinking it would be best if he had Bill tell the police what had happened, rather than trying to get a police operator to believe him.
He heard the call go through, then saw a car racing across the field in the distance. It was their rental, and it was coming towards him.
“Higgins here,” he heard Bill say.
Valentine considered running, then realized there wasn’t enough time. Instead, he retreated several steps, then lay down on his belly in the tall grass, keeping his head up so he could watch the car, the cell phone pressed to his ear.
“Tony, is that you?”
“Yeah,” he said, watching the rental bump across the field. His vision wasn’t worth a damn anymore, and he strained to see how many people were inside. It looked like two, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Where have you been?” Bill said. “Bronco escaped from jail; every cop in Reno is hunting for him. I tried to call you, but your cell phone was turned off.”
“He hijacked my rental and kidnaped my son,” Valentine said.
“ What?”
Valentine explained how Bronco had abducted them, then told Bill the getaway route they’d taken. Bill repeated it back to him, word-for-word. Valentine was still watching the rental approach as Bill finished.
“How did you get away?” Bill asked.
“My son saved my ass,” Valentine said.
The rental was a hundred yards away. Valentine stared at the driver’s side, and saw Gerry manning the wheel. Bronco was in the bucket seat, and had the shotgun stuck against Gerry’s neck. He got a good look at Gerry’s face. His son looked flat-out terrified, and Valentine’s heart did the funny thing it did when he was faced with a situation out of his control. His doctor called it a flutter, but Valentine had always thought it was God’s way of reminding him that life was rarely fair.
The rental flew past, then disappeared down the road. Valentine slowly rose and dusted himself off, the cell phone still to his ear. He started to walk toward the highway.
“You there?” Bill said.
“Barely,” he said.
Chapter 28
“You’re a liar,” Bronco said.
Gerry stared at the dirt road through the rental’s dirty windshield. There was not another car in sight. He had planned to flash his brights at the next car he saw, and alert them so they’d dial 911 on their cell phone. But that option suddenly seemed like a bad idea: Bronco was acting like he was going to kill him the first chance he got.
“What are you talking about,” Gerry said.
“Look at these clothes I’m wearing.” He shoved the shotgun’s barrel into Gerry’s chin. “Look at them!”
Gerry glanced at the clothes Bronco had taken from the trunk and exchanged for Klinghoffer’s uniform. The pants were black, the shirt a white Brooks Brothers with a button-down collar. They were old man’s clothes, and Bronco looked ridiculous in them.
“What about them?” Gerry said.
“These aren’t yourclothes.”
“Sure they are.”
“You think I was born yesterday?”
“The day before,” Gerry said.
Bronco cuffed him in the side of the head. The car swerved dangerously over to the side of the road, nearly flipping. Gerry quickly straightened the wheel.
“These are your old man’s clothes,” Bronco said. “The monkey’s paw was in your father’s suitcase. He took the monkey’s paw from my house, didn’t he?”
Gerry resumed staring at the road. Still no sign of another car. If he’d learned anything from the rackets, it was that there was always an angle to exploit. This angle had run its course, and he said, “That’s right. My father said it was the nicest one he’d ever seen. He asked the cops in Las Vegas if he could take it, and add it to his collection of cheating equipment. You had so many of them, the cops said sure.”
“So you made up that stuff about being a scammer to save your neck,” Bronco said.
Gerry glanced at his captor. “That part was true.”
“Bullgarbage.”
“I was a bookie in New York for ten years. I’ve only been clean for a little while.”
“Tell me who the last person was you scammed.”
Gerry told Bronco about scamming the Daily Double at Tampa Bay Downs, while helping his father expose the horse that had been silked. He glanced at Bronco while he spoke, and saw the same surprised look in his captor’s eyes as he’d seen in his father’s two days ago. He guessed Bronco had never heard of silking, either. By the time he’d finished, they’d reached the main highway. Bronco made him hang a left, and a short distance later, another left.
“Where we going?”
“Back to Reno,” Bronco said.
Gerry remembered the route they’d taken from the jail, and this wasn’t it. He watched Bronco reach across the seat, and remove the pack of Marlboros tucked in Gerry’s shirt pocket. Bronco banged one out, then offered Gerry one.
“Sure.”
Bronco lit two cigarettes from the same match, and shoved one into Gerry’s mouth. Bronco smoked his cigarette while studying him. “Let me get this straight. You and your old man were hired by the track to catch some cheaters. While you were there, you saw another scam going on, and you bet money on it, and took the track for six grand.”
“That’s right,” Gerry said.
“Why didn’t you bet more, and make a killing?”
“It’s a small track.”
“And you were afraid it would get noticed.”