Ken Douglas - Death Glitch

“ Lila Booth is going to kill your granddaughter.”

“ What?” Izzy was stunned. Though she detested Tucker Wayne more than she could put into words, she believed him. As far as she was concerned, he was sleazy, slimy, crooked as the night is dark and not fit to crawl out from under the rock from which he’d come, but he was no liar. When Amy started seeing him, he’d come straight to her, not wanting to do anything behind her back. He was slime, but he was gentleman slime.

“ Tonight, at that erotic ball thing.”

“ Say again.” She felt a cold something shimmy up her spine.

“ You have time.” Tucker paused, sighed down the line. “It doesn’t start till 9:00. That’s,” he paused again, “Christ, fifteen minutes ago.”

“ Now!” That cold working up her spine turned to ice. “It’s happening now!”

“ I’m in Zurich. Just got to my hotel, called in and got a voice mail from Lila. She checked the security recording and saw Amy get on my computer. The brat copied some files she shouldn’t have. She’s already gone to Amy’s apartment, broken in and retrieved the CD. She told me not to worry, then she ended her message saying. ‘By the time the clock strikes the midnight hour, the belle of the ball will fall.’ She’s going to kill Amy.”

“ That could mean anything.” That icy grip on her spine let up. Not much, just a bit.

“ No, Dr. Eisenhower, it couldn’t. Lila is a stone cold killer. She only knows one way to take care of a problem and when she says someone’s going to fall, she means permanently.”

“ Why are you telling me?” She was fully awake now. Tucker’s call had taken her from a deep sleep. It was still early, but she’d drifted off in her recliner in front of the television. She’d been watching Nick Nesbit on CNN. She had been for hours, because like millions of others, she was worried about a three-year-old girl who’d fallen in a well. They’d gotten her out, after what seemed like forever, but she was unconscious and it didn’t look like she was going to live. Izzy had been drinking wine during the ordeal and though she’d tried to stay awake after the girl had been freed, she dropped off. She supposed it was because of the chemo, it took so much out of her. But the sleep fuzz was fading fast. She had to do something, what?

“ Back then, when I was with the priest before my surgery, I saw you. You heard, but you saved my life anyway. I owe you. Consider the debt paid.” He hung up.

She looked at the display on her cell phone, 9:17. Tucker had said the ball, whatever that was, started at 9:00. What else had he said? Erotic. It was an erotic ball. What in the world was Amy doing, going to something like that? She truly didn’t know the girl anymore. But that was no surprise, she’d come to that conclusion when Amy had started going out with Tucker, a man old enough to be her father.

She got out of the chair, pulled off her sweatshirt, shucked out of her sweatpants. Naked, she avoided the look of her shaved head and cancer thin body in the bathroom mirror as she turned on the tap and splashed water on her face. In the bedroom, she went to the closet, stepped into a pair of Levi’s that were older than nineteen-year-old Amy, put on a tee shirt, put the Wolf Pack sweatshirt she slept in back on, then she grabbed the wig, put it on.

Fully awake and dressed, after a fashion, she padded downstairs, got her laptop, set it on the kitchen table, sat, opened it, went to Google and typed in “erotic ball reno,” hit search and at the top of the Google list she read, “Blood Lust, The Annual Wild Erotic Ball.” She clicked on it, was taken to radio station Wild 102.9’s website, where she read about the costume ball taking place at the Silver Legacy downtown. Costume required, it said.

She’d pass on the costume. There wasn’t a casino ticket taker anywhere in Nevada who would turn away a cancer ravaged granny. They’d look the other way when she showed up. Everybody looked the other way these days.

At the door, she slipped into her Nikes, grabbed her keys and went out into the cold night. Her car, a 1989 Dodge Raider her husband had paid cash for the day he died, hadn’t been started in over a month, but she knew it would kick over because she loved that car almost as much as she’d loved Lee. The Raider was really a Chrysler rebranded Mitsubishi Montero, which Lee had bought, hoping to toughen up so he could drive it in the Baja 500 off road race, but his heart quit right after they’d brought it home.

And she a heart surgeon. Irony.

She keyed the door, keyed the ignition, backed out of the driveway, shoved it into first and drove downtown, running every stop sign and light along the way. She prayed a cop would stop her, because she needed help, but none did.

“ Damn, damn, damn,” she muttered as she downshifted into a right turn at Sierra. She should’ve called 911. “Shit!” she pounded the steering wheel. She’d left her phone at home.

She pulled into the valet parking at the Silver Legacy. Damn, she forgot her money, too. The valet approached.

“ Catch you when I get out.” She left the keys in the ignition, pushed her way into the casino. The casino dome was a downtown landmark, but she’d never been inside. She didn’t like casinos. She’d earned her money the hard way and she wanted to keep it.

Inside, she went to the closest bar. The bartender was making drinks for a waitress, who was dressed like she’d just come off the stage of Cats. Santa was sitting at a table with Robin, this Robin was female. A vampire with white pancake makeup on his face was sitting next to a woman who looked like Morticia. Santa and Robin were drinking beer, the vamp and Morticia had no drinks, probably waiting on the waitress.

“ Where’s the Erotic Ball?”

“ Downstairs,” Santa said.

“ Downstairs where?”

“ That way,” the vampire pointed. “The escalator.”

She turned away, followed his pointed finger with her eyes, started off at a fast walk, wending her way through slot machines and gamblers, werewolves, more vampires and young women made up in costumes that concealed hardly anything at all. One girl squealed as a slot paid off. She was in a naughty maid’s costume, with a mini skirt too short for a decent girl to wear in public and when she jumped up with glee, Izzy saw she wasn’t wearing panties.

Just what kind of ball was this? And what on God’s green earth did Amy think she was up to, going to it?

At the escalator, she forced herself to slow down as she was blocked by a giant of a man dressed obviously as Adam. She hoped his fig leaf was glued on well, but glue or no, the sight of all these young, scantily clad beauties was going to give that leaf a run for its money.

She peered around him, saw a couple young girls in almost see through panties and wispy bras. They kissed, then handed their tickets to a vampire even bigger than Adam, who stamped their hands, then allowed them entry into the ballroom.

The restrooms were outside the ballroom and the costumed crowd in the well lit foyer going in and out of them was large. She could just imagine what it must be like inside the ballroom. Dark probably, but not too dark, she hoped. She looked around the foyer, scanning for Lila.

But either she wasn’t there or she was one of the women-and their were some, mostly older-who were wearing traditional Halloween costumes, the kind that easily hid your identity. Would Lila be wearing one of those?

Lila Booth. She knew Tucker had somebody who did his dirty work. Somebody who made his enemies disappear, but she’d never dreamed it was a woman, that it was the girl his father had adopted.