He appraised himself in the Lexus’s mirror. The transformation was complete, and he wondered if maybe this time, he’d leave Bronco for good. He’d make a last big score, and head down to sunny Mexico and buy a place on the beach. He’d meet a decent woman, and start his life over. As dreams went, it was a good one, and he backed the Lexus out of the storage unit feeling good about things. It had been a long time since he’d felt that way.
Glenn, his old teacher, had a theory about ripping off casinos. Glenn believed that a cheater should only target casinos in places with lots of people, like Las Vegas, Atlantic City and Reno. These were tourist towns, and the rules were different in tourist towns. Take the police roadblock just ahead. The cops were glancing into cars, and pulling an occasional driver over, but their hearts weren’t into it. Perhaps they’d heard that he’d gotten a dirt bike, and believed he was long gone. More than likely, they’d been told by their superiors to keep the traffic moving. Catching him was important, but it wasn’t important enough to stop the flow of tourists. Nothing was more important in a tourist town.
He crawled through the roadblock while listening to a news station on the radio. His jail break was no longer the lead story. In a few days, it wouldn’t be a story at all. The perfect swan song if he’d ever heard one. ‘And he escaped from the Reno jail, never to be seen again…’
A highway patrolman shone a flashlight in his face and waved him through. Soon he was on open highway. He called Garrow’s cell phone, which was now in the possession of the Asian. If the Asian was smart, he would have left Garrow’s phone on, in anticipation of his call.
His call was answered by a man with a heavy Asian accent.
“Who is this?” the man asked.
“This is Bronco.”
“Hello, Bronco.”
“I didn’t catch your name.”
“My name is Xing. Are you still in jail?”
Xing was no longer in Reno. If he had been, he’d have heard about Bronco’s escape over the news wires.
“I broke out,” Bronco said. “The police are looking for me. Do we still have a deal?”
“No.”
“No? What do you mean?”
“I have the chip. It was in your lawyer’s wallet.”
“You don’t know how the chip works. No one does but me. Stop fucking around. Do we have a deal?”
There was a pause on the line. Xing was playing it cute, just to see where it got him. Bronco would make him pay for that.
“All right,” Xing said. “But you’ll have to come to me.”
“Are you in Vegas?”
“Who told you that?” Xing asked suspiciously.
Bronco smiled into the phone. Reno and Las Vegas were the only real cities in Nevada. There was no place else for Xing to have gone.
“I guessed. I’ll call you when I reach the outskirts of town, and we can meet up.”
“I’ll be waiting. Don’t bring the lawyer.”
“Don’t worry. I got rid of him.”
“It was about time.”
The line went dead. Xing had gotten in the last word. He was in control of things, which was how most criminals liked to do business.
The highway opened up, and Bronco floored the Lexus’s accelerator. The ragged neon skyline grew smaller in his mirror, and disappeared from view.
Chapter 44
Every casino in Nevada had a steakhouse. The Peppermill’s was called The Bimini Steakhouse, and featured hardwood grilled steaks and prices that would make you swoon. Gerry cut into a sixteen ounce porterhouse as Bill approached the table.
“Sorry I’m late,” Bill said, taking a seat. “What’s the occasion?”
“Gerry solved your crooked agent’s slot scam.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Gerry stopped eating long enough to explain the Universal slot scam to Bill. In conclusion, he said, “Someone in your Electronic Systems Division has programmed your field agents’ notebooks to identify the Universal fingerprint, and add a code that will pay a jackpot. It’s not very difficult. Hackers do it to computers all the time.”
Valentine had brought the files of the seven ESD agents that Gerry had identified as their primary suspects, and spread them across the coffee table. “We’ve narrowed it down to these agents. Do any of them program laptops for ESD?”
Bill glanced at each file. “They all do.”
“So it could be any one of them,” Valentine said.
Bill nodded. He was frowning. It was rare for him to show any emotion. While waiting for their food, Valentine had read the files again, and seen something disturbing. Each of the seven agents had taken an extended leave three years ago, which Bill had approved. Something tied these agents together, only Bill wasn’t telling him what it was. Valentine said, “How many Universal slot machines are in Nevada?”
“About twenty thousand,” Bill mumbled.
“You need to take them out of commission.”
“Tony, you’re talking about a fifth of the slots in the state. That’s a lot of money.”
“I don’t care. Those slot machines can be corrupted, and shouldn’t be played.”
“I’ll have to get Governor Smoltz’s approval. He’s not going to like it.”
“You want me to call Smoltz?”
Bill shook his head. He took out his cell phone, and pulled up Smoltz’s number. His chair made a harsh scraping sound as he left the restaurant.
“I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation,” Gerry said.
Valentine ate his New York strip steak in silence. Bill was holding out on him. Friends didn’t hold out on each other. Before this was over, he was going to find out why, even if it meant putting their twenty-five years on the line.
While eating a piece of warm apple pie, Valentine had another epiphany. This one was so obvious, he was surprised he hadn’t seen it sooner. Scooping up the files of the ESD agents, he threw down money for the meal, and rose from the table. Gerry was pigging out on an ice cream sundae, and in no hurry to leave.
“Where you going?”
“I need to run a little errand. See you in the morning.”
Valentine took the elevator to the main level. It was late, and the casino was filled with the drunk and desperate. The front desk was empty, and he rang the bell. A manager appeared who looked like he’d just snapped out of a coma. There was a reason they called it the graveyard shift; only the dead seemed to work it.
“I need to use your fax machine.”
“Business office is closed,” the manager said, smothering a yawn.
He shoved a twenty into the manager’s hand.
“That isn’t necessary,” the manager said, pocketing the money.
Soon Valentine was feeding the files of the seven ESD agents through the hotel fax machine. He knew why Bill had clammed up on him. These agents were Bill’s friends, and Bill didn’t want to see anything bad happen to them. It was a natural reaction, and he couldn’t hold it against Bill for feeling that way.
When the faxes had gone through, he checked the time. It was three A.M., which made it six A.M. back home. He hated calling Mabel so early, but saw no other choice. He punched her number into his cell phone, and heard the call go through.
Mabel awoke to the sound of her ringing phone. It was still dark outside, the birds singing softly. Only Tony called this early in the morning. If he hadn’t paid her so well and had such nice manners, she would have stopped working for him a long time ago.
“Yes, boss,” she answered.
“Sorry to wake you up. I’ve got a job for you.”
“Is that why you called? I thought it was to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.”
“Later, beautiful.”
Tony explained what he needed done. Barely awake, Mabel didn’t tell him about all the excitement from the previous night, or how Running Bear had come to her rescue, or how she’d gone to the police station and filed charges against the man who’d attacked her. That was yesterday, and seemed like old news.