“Name’s Ty, Ty Lubbick. Nice to meet you,” he said, working on his drawl.
A red Corolla nudged the curb. The vehicle looked familiar but not the train wreck who climbed out. A blonde wearing hideous purple fingernail polish and too much makeup chewing on a wad of bubble gum. She threw him a disapproving glance.
“You can’t be the valet.” Her accent was back east and harsh.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “If you’re in a rush, you can leave your keys with the front desk manager. His name’s Jo-Jo, and he’s an honorable fellow.”
“You don’t say. Don’t I know you?”
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“What’s your name?”
“Ty Lubbick.”
“I’ve seen you before, Ty, haven’t I?”
“I wouldn’t know. I work on a ranch roping cattle.”
“You don’t say. A real live cowboy.”
Trying to smile while wearing a bridge was difficult, but he did it anyway. The blonde was still trying to place him, and he refused to wilt beneath her stare. Finally, she gave up.
“Thanks for the help,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She went inside. Her dress was of simple design and hung straight to the ground. The type of dress an overweight woman might wear, only the blonde didn’t look overweight. He glanced into the Corolla and spied a pack of Kools stuck in the cup holder.
“For the love of Christ,” he swore.
He went inside to find her standing at the front desk. Jo-Jo was on the phone and hadn’t gotten to her yet. He took the dangling set of car keys from her hand.
“Didn’t expect to see you again,” he said quietly.
Her head snapped. “Billy? As I live and breathe. I had no idea.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I changed my mind. I want in. I know it sounds crazy. Please don’t blow your top.”
“Let’s take this outside, shall we?”
His car idled at the curb, the valet standing by the driver’s door. Billy tossed him the keys to Mags’s car. “Do me a favor, and park my friend’s car for me.”
“Sure, Mr. Cunningham. You guys going to a costume party?”
Billy didn’t want the valet telling the other tenants about this. The building was filled with old people who had nothing better to do than gossip and spread rumors. Pulling a hundred off the stack in his pocket, he stuffed the bill into the valet’s shirt pocket.
“Put a lid on it.”
“Of course, Mr. Cunningham. My lips are sealed.”
Leaving Turnberry, Billy took Paradise to East Sahara. Instead of heading west to the Strip, he chose the opposite direction and pushed the accelerator to the floor.
“You’re going in the wrong direction. Slow down,” Mags said.
“Don’t tell me how to drive,” he said. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and if I don’t like the answers I get, I’m going to toss you out of the car while it’s still moving.”
Mags started to argue, then thought better of it.
“Fire away,” she said.
“What the hell is going on? I made you the deal of a lifetime yesterday, and you slapped me in the face. Now you show up on my doorstep wanting in. Did something happen in the last couple of hours I should know about? And don’t you dare bullshit me.”
“My daughter talked me into it.”
His foot involuntarily came off the gas, and the car slowed. “Your kid told you to?”
“In so many words, yes.”
“Why? Is she hard up for cash and plans to hit you up?”
“It was nothing like that. Amber realized I took the TV gig to impress her. Seems she was already impressed with her old lady. My baby’s got a hard-on for the casinos. I got her on a plane, went home, put on my Molly Maid disguise, and drove over. If that doesn’t work for you, I’ll get out at the next block. No hard feelings.”
It sounded crazy enough to be true. “Does your kid cheat?”
“No. But she’s been tempted. She carries around a gaffed die that I used back in Providence to scam businessmen at the bars.”
“Are you cool with that?”
“That’s none of your fucking business.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you. It isn’t any of my fucking business. Only you want to do a job with me, and I need to know where your head is at. Now answer the question.”
“No, I’m not cool with it. I made Amber promise me that she’d never resort to thieving, and she gave me her word.”
“Are things good between the two of you?”
“Yeah. It was a good trip, even if my show did get cancelled.”
“You’re not bitter about that?”
“Sure I’m bitter. But I’ll get over it. Life marches on.”
He’d heard enough. Mags had a thick skin; it was one of the reasons she’d lasted for as long as she had. At the next intersection, he did a U-turn and reversed course, causing the Strip’s gaudy skyline to appear in the windshield. Mags managed a smile.
“Are you really going to give me half a million bucks for this job?” she asked.
“Have I ever lied to you before?”
“No, but there’s always a first time.”
Mags didn’t fully trust him. Billy couldn’t say he blamed her. Running out on her after sharing a bed had to be one of the stupidest things he’d ever done.
“You’ll get every penny. You have my word,” he said.
“There you go,” she said.
Forty-Nine
If there was any person inside a casino who Billy feared, it was the pit boss.
Pit bosses ran the blackjack games and were trained to watch dealers and players for any suspicious behavior. If cheating was suspected, a pit boss would pick up a house phone, call security, and have the offending party hauled away.
There were more than five hundred pit bosses employed in Las Vegas. One hundred of these were seasoned pros who could smell a hustle a mile away. The rest didn’t know jack and had gotten their jobs because they had juice within the casino.
Billy maintained a database of pit bosses, which included the pit boss’s name, his casino, a description of his physical appearance and hair color, and whether or not he was a problem. The information was kept on Billy’s phone, giving him easy access.
The first MGM property he and Mags visited was the Luxor. The most outrageous joint on the Strip, the Luxor was designed like an Egyptian pyramid and had a three-hundred-thousand-watt beam spitting out of the top along with an ersatz Sphinx guarding the front entrance.
“I’ll wait for you in the bar,” Mags said.
He took a stroll through the blackjack pit. He counted four single-deck games where a dealing shoe was not in use. One of these games would soon have its cards marked with luminous paint. A flashy female pit boss with red hair stood in the pit’s center, supervising the action. He pulled her up on his database. Her name was Lexie Lowman, and she was new.
He found Mags at a table in the bar. “Pit boss is green. This shouldn’t be too hard.”
“You going to run interference for me?” she asked.
“That was the plan.” Taking a stack of hundreds from his pocket, he slipped them to her beneath the table. “Here’s your play money. There are four tables with handheld games in the pit. Pick any one. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”
“Got it. That bridge in your mouth is hideous.”
“I was just going to say the same thing about your disguise.”
“Thanks. By the way, did you bring the paint?”
Taking the tin of luminous paint from his other pocket, he also passed it beneath the table. Mags slipped the tin into her purse and rose from the table.
“It’s great to finally be running together,” he said.