James Swain - Super Con

She was shaking with rage and hung up. Rand had run out on her like a cheap one-night stand. No message, no note slipped under her door, nothing. She marched off the set and into the hotel with her daughter on her heels.

“Where are you going?” Amber asked.

“To the bar to talk to my cameraman, Sean Mulroney. Sean will know what’s going on.”

True to form, Sean was perched on a stool in LINQ’s bar getting plowed. Despite the early hour, Sean’s nose was deep purple, his eyes bloodshot. Mags took the adjacent stool while Amber sat down next to her mother. Sean nodded drunkenly.

“Sean, this is my daughter, Amber,” Mags said. “Amber, meet Sean Mulroney, the best cameraman in Hollywood.”

“My mom’s told me all about you,” Amber said.

“Whatever she told you was a lie. Either of you ladies want a drink? It’s on me.”

“We’re good,” Mags said. “What’s going on, Sean? Where’s the crew?”

“They were sacked.” To the bartender he said, “Another round, my good man.”

Mags’s face nearly hit the bar. “When? By whom?” It was the wrong thing to say, and she grabbed Sean by the wrist. “Did you get canned as well?”

Sean did not reply until he had a fresh beer in one hand, a shot in the other. “I will answer your questions in the order in which they were received. The firing took place at eight a.m. this morning on the set. The executioner was none other than the evil Rand Waters, who spoke to us from LA using Skype on a laptop computer that sat on a chair. Rand gave no explanation but simply stated that our services were no longer required. And yes, I also got the boot, which led me here to my present endeavor.”

Her show was over. Mags knew that soulless sharks ran Hollywood, but she had convinced herself that she’d come out on top. Stupid her.

Sean laid a gentle hand on her wrist. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“No, not a word.”

“Rand’s a bastard. If it’s any solace, I thought you did a fine job.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you for saying that. You take care.”

“May our paths cross again.”

Mags left the bar beneath a dark cloud. For the last few months, Night and Day had consumed her life. With acting classes, rehearsals, and coming to Vegas to shoot the pilot, she hadn’t contemplated her future if the show got cancelled. Reality had just dumped a hundred pounds of steaming shit on her head, and it was all she could do not to scream.

“What are you going to do?” her daughter asked.

“Maybe I’ll take a vacation, go back east. Like a roommate for a few months?”

“You can always stay with me, Mom.”

Mags went to her trailer to grab her belongings. Stepping inside, she found Billy sipping a bottled water. Billy had warned her this might happen, and it was all she could do not to slap him.

“Go away, Billy. Leave us alone.”

“We need to talk. I have a proposition for you,” he said.

“Not interested.” The trailer had a built-in dresser. Mags pulled open the drawers and removed her things, which she handed to her daughter while trying to ignore him.

“How come the set’s so quiet?” he asked.

“The show is on permanent hiatus.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe this will cheer you up. I’m doing a job and I need your help. Think of it as a last score for old time’s sake.”

“I told you, I’m done with grifting.”

“You haven’t heard the terms. I’ll pay you half a million bucks to paint cards.”

A plastic hairbrush bounced on the floor. Mags picked it up and tossed it to Amber. Her checking account had all of nine hundred bucks in it. Without the money from the show, she had no source of income and no immediate opportunities for work. She was flat broke and might end up living out of her car if her luck didn’t improve. No doubt about it, she needed a savior, but not this one. She’d promised herself she was going to stop thieving, and it was a promise she intended to keep, no matter how harsh the outcome might be.

“Not interested,” she said.

“It will be like stealing candy from a baby,” he said, unwilling to quit. “You’re going to paint cards in low-limit blackjack games, which are hardly watched by surveillance. The scam won’t take place until after you’re gone. You’ll be out of the line of fire.”

“My face is known to every casino in town.”

“You’ll be in disguise. They’ll never spot you.”

When opposing forces collide, bad things occurred. The urge to smack Billy in the face was growing stronger, and she turned to her daughter. “Let’s get some breakfast.”

Amber looked upset with her. Did her daughter want her to take the job? They left the trailer without saying good-bye and headed across the empty set. She heard the trailer door being shut behind them.

“Go away. I mean it,” she said.

“How can you run away from half a million bucks? Just answer me that,” he said.

“I don’t have to explain my decision to you.”

“Remember the day we met in Providence? You told me that you dreamed of coming to Vegas and joining a crew. You said the crews made the big money. I’m giving you the chance to fulfill that dream. Do one more job and walk away. You won’t regret it.”

Why wouldn’t he listen? She had made a clean break and kissed her past good-bye. No one had an issue with that except Billy. He was preventing her from escaping the black impulses that had consumed her for so long, and it made her want to hurt him. Reaching LINQ’s front entrance, she spun around. When he smiled, she slapped him.

“Last time. Leave me alone,” she said.

He brought his hand to his lips and came away with blood. It seemed to startle him, and he retreated a few steps. “Whatever you want, Maggie. But will you answer one question for me?”

“Will you leave if I do?”

“Yes.”

“Fire away.”

“If you were so intent on running away from being a thief, why did you agree to play a cheat in a TV show? How is that different from before?”

She swallowed hard. “Just... leave.”

“The answer is, it isn’t. You’re a thief and always will be. It’s in your blood. Think about it.”

“Go, damn it!”

“Nice meeting you,” he said to Amber before walking away.

Pulling into the valet area of Turnberry, Billy spent a moment behind the wheel in thought. He had less than twenty-four hours to find a painter if the super con with the football players was going to succeed. That was hardly enough time with a casino scam.

Rushing a job was never smart, but he didn’t have any other choice. After this weekend, the football players were off to Phoenix for Super Bowl week, and his window of opportunity would be lost.

He scrolled through the names of local cheats in his cell phone’s directory. Painters were in short supply these days. The good ones were traveling the country fleecing the Native American casinos where the security was second-rate. He stopped on the name Casey Duvall. They’d worked together a decade ago running with a crew led by an old-timer named Crunchy. One night on a dare, Casey had painted all the high cards in a blackjack game at Bellagio using Vaseline, the jar conveniently tucked between his legs with the lid unscrewed. Casey had brass balls and would be perfect for this job. He called his old friend and heard him answer.

“Casey, this is Billy Cunningham. How you been, man?”

“Billy C, as I live and breathe, it’s good to hear your voice. What’s shaking?”

“I’ve got some business to discuss. You free tomorrow?”

“For you, man, of course.”

A rapping on the side glass made Billy jump. He turned his head to stare at the ugliest of sights. It was Grimes, and the special agent looked fit to be tied.