James Swain - Take Down

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Shut up, and let me finish. Two days ago, Rock brought eight million dollars in drug money to Galaxy’s casino and passed it through the cage. The money was laundered through a chain of check-cashing stores in town and turned into money orders. Eight hundred of them, to be exact. Later today, Rock will go to the cage and get a leather briefcase with the money orders. We’re going to bust Rock once the transfer is made.”

Her wounded ear throbbed. She needed to take another pain pill and climb into bed. But first, she needed to get Frank out of her house.

“We plan to nail Cunningham as well and make it seem as if he’s working for Rock,” Frank said. “Kill two birds with one stone, if you will. To do that, we need to bust Cunningham inside the casino. That’s where you come in.”

“You don’t say.”

“Don’t get smart with me. You struck a deal with us, and I’m going to hold you to it.”

Whatever promises she’d made to Frank and his boss had gotten flushed down the toilet. Billy had saved her life last night, and she was not going to double-cross him, even if it meant lying through her teeth to Frank.

“You still haven’t told me what you want me to do.”

“We want you to establish contact with Cunningham before the raid, to verify where he is inside Galaxy.”

“I’m not going back inside that place.”

“Don’t worry. There will be more gaming agents inside that joint than you can shake a stick at. You’ll be totally safe.”

“I’m not going back inside. The people running that place are crazy.”

“You can’t say no.”

“Try me.”

“Don’t do this, Mags. You’ll regret it.”

“I’m not your slave. No.”

“All right, have it your way. You can draw Cunningham out to the valet area. Then you don’t have to go in.”

“Is that your idea of a compromise?”

“Yes. I’ve got a lot riding on this. My career’s at stake.”

Frank’s last promotion had gone up in flames because Billy had outsmarted him, and she guessed another promotion was now on the line and would be granted if Frank went where no gaming agent had gone before, and put Billy’s cute little ass in the slammer. It was the opening she’d been looking for, and she said, “I’ll do it, but I want something in return.”

“You’re not in a position to bargain with me.”

“Really.”

“Don’t even think about it, Mags. You’re wasting your breath.”

Frank had tipped his mitt and told Mags that he needed her. It was leverage, and she went to the front door and flung it open. “Get out of my fucking house.”

“You can’t throw me out.”

“Yes, I can. This is my place, and I didn’t ask you in. If you don’t leave, I’ll call 911.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

She took out her cell phone and started punching numbers. Frank jumped off the couch and rushed her. His movements suggested he might do something irrational.

“Don’t. Please, Mags. I can’t let this one get away.”

She stopped dialing. “This is all about your fucking job, isn’t it, Frank?”

His eyes fell shamefully to the floor, and he did not reply.

“Answer me,” she said tersely.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“I thought so. I want this arrangement to be over. I’ll draw Billy out this afternoon, but from that moment on, my agreement with the gaming board is over. I also never want to see you again. Do you understand?”

Still looking at the floor, he nodded.

“Good. Now, go talk it over with your boss. Don’t come back until he says yes.”

Frank walked out of the town house. She watched him climb into the idling vehicle in the driveway before slamming the door.

She gulped down a pain pill before going to her study. Got on her desktop and drew up a letter of termination between her and the gaming board, to take effect at 5:00 p.m. tonight. She cleaned up the typos before making two copies on the laser-jet printer she’d bought at Staples. From the front of the house came a pounding on the front door. Return of the caveman.

She opened the door and Frank just stood there, scared of her now.

“Trixie’s not happy about this,” he said.

“Shocking. Tell him to get in here.”

“Don’t order me around.”

“I have something you want, Frank, remember? Go get him.”

“You’re being really stupid, Mags.”

She laughed in his face. She had a job waiting with Billy’s crew when this was over. That, and a brand new life. Frank could go to hell, for all she cared.

Frank got his boss from the car and they came inside. Mags slapped the termination letter on the dining room table for them to read. When they were done, she asked them if they had any questions. None were forthcoming, so she signed each letter next to where she’d printed her name, then stuck the pen in Frank’s hand. Frank signed each document next to where his own name was printed. The pen was passed to Trixie, who initialed both signatures and dated them. Mags walked them outside to the car, feeling elated.

“I’ll be by at twelve thirty to pick you up,” Frank said. “And don’t try to cross me. I’ll throw your ass in jail if you do.”

“And deny you your promotion? I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said.

Frank got into the SUV and disappeared behind the tinted glass. Trixie remained in the driveway.

“I’d suggest you pack your belongings and get out of Vegas when this is done,” Trixie said. “The other hustlers in town won’t be very accommodating when they hear you’re a snitch.”

“Do you plan on telling them?” she asked.

“Word will get out. It always does.”

“Hold that thought. I’ll be right back.”

Mags got her cell phone from the bedroom. Coming outside, she opened the Gallery app and stuck the phone in Trixie’s face. With her thumb, she scrolled through the shots she’d secretly taken of Frank and her doing the nasty in various hotel rooms during the past year. There were over sixty. Each had a date. Frank was big on cunnilingus, and the dreamy look in his eyes as he was going down on her made his boss turn crimson.

“That’s extortion,” Trixie said.

“You hurt me, I hurt you,” she said.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Why yes, yes, I am.”

“The gaming board will destroy you. Or did you forget that?”

“My girlfriend has a memory stick with these photos on it. If anything ever happens to me… Well, you know the rest.”

Trixie’s face was a blank, but behind his eyes a bad movie was playing where everybody died in the end. Mags touched his sleeve.

“Call it a truce. You can’t win all the time, you know,” she said.

“We’ll see about that.”

They left and she went inside. She was going to call Billy and tell him about the raid. She didn’t know how to break the news without telling him she was a snitch, but she’d figure it out. But first, she was going to lie down before the side of her head exploded.

In Billy’s opinion, Vegas hotels served the best food around. Take the late-morning room-service breakfast he was eating in his suite. A mouth-watering frittata made from organic cage-free eggs, grilled chicken, roasted tomatoes, and a slice of sourdough toast on the side. Growing up, he’d never dreamed a meal could taste this good.

His Droid beeped. Travis had sent him a text. The counterfeit gold chips were done and had passed muster. The last cheat to take down Vegas with fake chips had been another Providence native, Lou “The Coin” Colavecchio, and that was over twenty years ago. Billy sent Travis a reply and told him to bring the crew to the hotel for a meeting, then resumed eating his breakfast.