Notorious Nineteen

his seat and removed a small semi-automatic. “See if this fits. It’s a Ruger .38 with a trace laser. It carries six plus one rounds.”
    I dumped everything out of my bag, and the gun just barely fit in. “This is serious,” I said.
    “It could be. So far it’s just annoying.”

SEVEN
    WE LEFT THE CAR and entered the casino, following signs to a private room on the second floor. The carpet was red and gold. The chandeliers were ornate crystal. The walls were covered in gaudy gold fleur-de-lis wallpaper. The lighting was bright to accommodate the seniors with macular degeneration. We passed an entrance into the gaming area, and the noise of the slot machines blasted out at us.
    We found the room for the Olesen party, had our names checked off at the door, and moved inside. It was a large space with décor identical to that of the public area. Round tables seating eight people each were set up with gold tablecloths and white and gold flower arrangements. I did a fast count and came up with twelve tables. A few people had found their name tags and taken their seats, but the majority were socializing,drinks in hand. Waiters were circulating, passing hors d’oeuvres. I took a glass of champagne and a mystery appetizer, and we slowly made our way through the crowd.
    “Are you recognizing anyone?” I asked Ranger.
    “No one from the unit,” he said.
    His hand was at my waist. He bent his head and leaned close when he spoke. If I had a second glass of champagne it would be easy to forget I was working and instead think this was an occasion for flirting. Best not to have a second glass of champagne. Best to concentrate on the cocktail sausages and tiny spicy meatballs.
    Ranger introduced me to Kinsey. He was shorter than Ranger, and softer. Not entirely out of shape, but he had a few extra pounds that rounded out his face and belly and made him more approachable than Ranger. He had brown hair cut short. He was in a rented tux, and he looked like he’d rather be at a barbecue.
    “This is a nightmare,” Kinsey said. “I hate this stuff. And my wedding is going to be even worse. If I can get through the wedding I’m home free.”
    “Are you having a big wedding?” I asked him.
    “Ten bridesmaids,” he said. “Is that big?”
    “It’s a village,” Ranger told him.
    Amanda Olesen crossed the room and stood next to Kinsey. She was blond and pretty and soft in the same way Kinsey was soft. And she was clearly in love. There was somethingabout the way she watched Kinsey, really listening when he spoke, smiling when she was near him.
    I wondered if I looked like that when I was with Morelli or Ranger. It would be a good thing with Morelli, and a disaster with Ranger. And truth is I was a tiny bit jealous of her happiness. It would be wonderful to be that confident and excited about the future. My future was sort of a mess.
    I looked up at Ranger and saw he was watching me. “What?” I said.
    “You just did a massive eye roll and you grunted.”
    “Heartburn from the champagne.”
    At eight o’clock we found our table. It was one table away from Kinsey and to the side of the room.
    “You’re sitting with your back to the wall,” I said. “You arranged this seating so you could keep your eye on Kinsey, didn’t you? Do you think something bad will happen tonight?”
    “I’m being cautious.”
    “That’s more than I can say for the guy next to me. I just sat down and he has his hand on my leg, inching up my skirt.”
    Ranger looked around me to scope the guy out. “Do you want me to shoot him?”
    “Maybe later.”
    The man was ninety if he was a day. Sparse white hair, splotchy skin showing several scars where cancer had been cut out, some drool escaping from the corner of his mouth.
    “Excuse me,” I said to the drooler. “Your hand is on my leg.”
    “What?”
    “Your hand. It’s on my leg, and I’d like it removed.”
    “Can’t hear you,” he said. “Got a hearing problem in that ear.”
    I leaned in and caught the attention of the woman sitting on the man’s other side. “Are you with this guy?” I asked.
    “I’m his wife,” she said.
    “He has his hand on my leg.”
    She reached for a roll. “Better you than me.”
    I rapped the drooler on his hand with my spoon, and the hand was withdrawn.
    “Problem solved,” I said to Ranger.
    “Too bad,” he said. “I haven’t shot anyone all day. I was hoping for later.”
    “Tell me about the cryptic messages.”
    “A few