Rarities Unlimited 02 - Running Scared

ever think of getting your own show on cable?”
    She just shook her head. Despair replaced the rage. So much money lost . . .
    The tears shimmering in her eyes shocked both men. Neither of them had ever seen Cherelle cry. Not once. Not even when her car broke down and she was picked up by a guy who beat her, raped her, and dumped her out by the side of the road.
    Socks and Tim looked at each other uneasily. Both were thinking the same thing.
    What if she’s right?
    What if we let a million bucks get away?
    Socks resettled his jeans, which were riding unusually low because of the gun stuffed beneath his bright new Hawaiian shirt. “Think I’ll go see Joey.”
    “I think I’ll come along,” Tim said.
    “Think. You think. ” Cherelle started laughing wildly. Then she wept without a sound. “Tim.”
    He turned back to her. “What is it, precious?”
    “Don’t come back without that armband. Ever.”
    It was a voice neither man had heard from her before. Neutral. Deadly neutral.
    Both men sighed with relief when the front door of the little house shut behind them.

Chapter 23
    Las Vegas
    November 3
    Morning
    I n the midst of the cheerless cries and smoky desperation of one of Las Vegas’s old-style, downscale grind joints, Slim John stared at his Golden Fleece paycheck stub and wished he could shove it up the head of security’s ass with a wire brush.
    “Who do they think they are, Mother Teresa?” he asked Merry Clare, a blackjack dealer at Say Paris! “Firing me because I help out a working girl, and then Mr. Godalmighty Tannahill’s latest punchboard waltzes in and gives a big hug to another hooker and they swing their butts all the way to the employee elevator.”
    Merry shrugged and shifted so that the rump-sprung booth poked into a different part of her ass. The beer in front of her looked as flat as she felt. Anyone who thought dealing cards was an easy way to make a living was welcome to her job. Other casinos let their women dealers work in slacks and flat shoes. Not Say Paris! The boss insisted on French-maid gear complete with fishnet stockings that cut into the soles of her feet like wire.
    “Yeah, life’s an unfair bitch.” Merry leaned forward and took a quick drag on Slim John’s cigarette. Her heavily colored lips left a pink ring around the butt. “So who’s Tannahill dicking these days?”
    “An employee.” Slim John swiped his cigarette back. He hated the taste of lipstick, which was why he screwed Merry but he rarely kissed her.
    “Which one?” Merry asked.
    “Risa Sheridan.”
    “Yeah? Hadn’t heard that.”
    He snorted. Lipstick and gossip were Merry’s passions. She hated being without either one. “You don’t hear everything in Vegas. You just think you do.”
    “Yeah? Buy me another drink and I’ll tell you how you can get even with Shane Tannahill.”
    “Even with Tannahill? Oh, yeah, sure, right after I become a billionaire.”
    “I’m serious.”
    Slim John hesitated, held up a five-dollar bill to catch a cocktail waitress’s eye, and watched Merry. Another beer appeared with remarkable speed. Merry poured, savored the bite of frisky beer, and swallowed.
    “Okay,” Slim John said. “Tell me how.”
    “Word is that a lot of important people have a hard-on for Tannahill. He won’t play their game, and that makes it tough for some of the biggest casinos.”
    “You’re breaking my heart.”
    Merry’s pink mouth curled up. “Yeah, I can see you’re bleeding. Anyway, if you drop a whisper in Firenze’s ear, he’ll be so happy I bet he finds you work in his casino.”
    “What the hell could I tell Carl—”
    “Not him,” Merry cut in. “The uncle. Not that it matters. Either one would get the job done.”
    “So what am I telling John Firenze?”
    She gave him an amused look. “Slim John, you really should listen when people talk about what’s happening on the Strip under all the glitter and shine.”
    He grunted. “So talk.”
    “Some people want a handle on Risa Sheridan.”
    “Why?”
    “Who cares? The pay is the same no matter what the reason. The fact that Sheridan’s chummy with a hooker might be just what they want to hear. You know the hooker’s name?”
    “One of ’em.”
    Merry pulled a cell phone out of her purse. “Make the call.”
    He looked at the phone and shrugged. “Hell, why not? What do I have to lose?”

Chapter 24
    Las Vegas
    November 3
    Midmorning
    S hane’s computer screen was displaying the information