“Maybe it’s all psychological,” I said, “but I want your blessing anyway.”
Jenna obliged by touching my shoulder with the ring firmly on her finger. I felt a sickening wrench in my belly as I jumped. I landed and wobbled for a moment, struggling to lever myself over the railing. The uncontrollable surge of adrenalin gave me an instant headache. Every part of my body strained to get away from the open space below me. My feet and teeth ached in a moment of near panic.
Then I was over the rail and safe. I got to my feet and turned back to Jenna, who had watched everything closely.
“Go out and make noise in the hallway,” I told her. “Find a maid and start an argument or something.”
Jenna nodded and disappeared. I waited about a minute, and then tried the sliding glass door. It was locked, of course. The sunglasses were soon out and on my face again. A moment later, the door clacked quietly and slid open.
I had my gun in my hand and I steeled myself. I nudged open those thick blackout curtains every hotel had, and peeked inside.
The room was dark. I knew I was letting in too much light. I stepped inside and tucked the curtains behind me.
There was a figure standing at the door with a gun of his own. He was using the peephole to observe the hallway, where I could hear Jenna shouting about something.
With my pistol aimed at his back, I flipped on the lights. “Drop your gun,” I said in an officious, coplike voice. The man turned, lowering his weapon, but not quite letting go of it. We regarded one another in surprise and recognition. It was Bernard Kinley, the pit boss I’d met a few nights ago in the casino. He was as short, bald, and angry as ever.
“How’d you get in here, you cock-sucker?” Bernie hissed at me. His expensive suit was rumpled and his embarrassing comb-over had puffed up in the center like shark fin. I almost smiled at his bulging eyes and angry stare.
“Good to see you too, Bernie,” I said evenly. I kept my pistol leveled on his chest and walked slowly closer to him.
“You’re some kind of freak like the rest of them, aren’t you?”
“Listen, this conversation is really uplifting, but aren’t you supposed to be watching for card-counters or something downstairs?”
He glared at me, his eyes narrowing to a squint. “Not anymore. You did something to piss off the boss. Now I’m on permanent suspension.”
“That’s rough,” I said without a hint of sympathy. “Is that why you’re here? For revenge?”
Bernie’s eyes swept the room. “I was looking for the girl, not you.”
“Murder?” I asked. “I had you down as more of the petty-theft type.”
“What? No, I wanted a piece of her luck. I’ve never seen anything like it. Did you know she went and did that same trick in three other casinos yesterday?”
It was my turn to stare at him for a second. I hadn’t known that. No wonder she’d become so easy with her money.
“She’s gotten smarter about it too,” he said. “She hits the tables, different games. Only works them for about ten minutes, then moves on. Then after a big win, she loses for an hour—just a little cash at a time, giving back about ten percent of what she took off the house. Then she leaves. But we pit bosses talk, you know. When we see something going on, we talk, and we’ve been watching her, house to house.”
My little Jenna, I thought. I was proud of her. She had learned a new game quickly. In fact, she had learned it so well she had been smart enough to tell no one about it. Not even me. But I knew the casinos still didn’t like to lose.
“If you told everyone in town that she’s a cheat, why are they still letting her play?” I asked.
Bernie smiled. “I’m not that dumb. I want to know the trick. So I told them she lost big at the Lucky Seven. She hasn’t won enough in the other places to get kicked out. But I figure she’s taken in fifty grand or so over the last few days.”
“Not murder,” I said, nodding. “You’re a thief.”
“I don’t want her money, just her secret,” he snapped. “And she’s been stealing from the casinos anyway—somehow.”
“That gives you every right to sit in here with a gun in the dark, does it?” I asked dryly.
“You’re in here too, armed just like me.”
“Yes, but I was invited. Now drop the gun or I drop you. Which is it?”
He finally let his weapon thump down onto the carpet. I decided that Jenna had spent long enough in the hallway. I pulled out my cell and told her it was OK to come in. She did so, and was startled to see our friend the pit boss. After she found out what he was doing in her room, she became angry.
I waved away her threats and recriminations after a while. “Bernie, please take a seat over here.”
Bernie moved with ill grace, sitting in a padded armchair. It was the sort of thing they often had in nice hotel rooms. It was upholstered with a busy green print of washable microfiber. It would be a pity to put a bullet hole in it.