Authors: J. Fields Jr.
“Yes,” said Mark.
Antonio had been massaging the pressure points on his wrists.
He politely said, “I’m glad that you find my exploits amusing, and honored that you would devote so much time to…enhancing them.”
Chewie smiled over at Chloe.
“I knew he’d talk like that.”
Chloe shrugged.
“I thought you’d sound more like Obi-Wan.”
“Okay, fun’s over,” said Mark, crushing his empty soda can in his fist.
“Even though I’d love to stay and see the rest of Antonio’s greatest hits, we’re in the middle of an investigation here.”
“Really?”
Chewie’s eyes were wide.
“Right now?”
“Sweet,” said Chloe.
“What do you want to see?”
Antonio attempted to focus his thoughts.
It was somewhat disconcerting being in the presence of two strangers who were such authorities on his comings and goings.
Not only that, but they appeared to be star struck by him as well.
It gave him empathy for Shannon Moon, who lived her life in the presence of her fans, multiplied by the millions.
It spurred his mind to action.
He was not concerned, presently, with the millions of fans who studied Shannon Moon from a distance, but was in fact in search of the one man who provided them with most of their study materials.
“There is a rather persistent paparazzo that follows Shannon Moon and Brandon wherever they go.
He is the individual I locked inside the limousine shortly after their arrival.”
Chewie clapped his hands together.
“That was awesome!”
“Quite,” said Antonio.
“However, we have not been able to locate him since that incident occurred.
He abandoned his hotel room and is currently on the loose somewhere within the casino.
We presume he remained in the hotel tower to be near his prey.”
“Makes sense,” said Chloe.
“We didn’t really get a good look at him on the valet footage.
He ducked into the limo and was off camera after that.”
“He might have swiped an Engineering uniform,” said Mark.
“Coulda used it to get into the Sachem Suite yesterday or late last night.”
“He may have gained admittance to the suite during second shift,” said Antonio.
“We’d like to review the footage to see if we can gain some insight into his methods.
It may lead us to his current whereabouts.”
Chewie turned back to his keyboard.
“Maybe between eight o’clock and midnight last night?”
“For starters,” said Mark.
“We can backtrack from there.”
Chloe asked, “What’s he look like?”
“Black hair, tan pants, blue jacket, camera.
They call him the Kamikaze Cam.”
Chewie paused in his typing.
“Asian?”
Antonio studied his face.
“Have you seen him?”
“Dude,” said Chewie, turning to his laptop and lacing his fingers together, pushing them out like a pianist ready to hit the first note of a recital, “we see
everything.
”
Chapter Eighteen
It was 2:17am when Greg Sheffield, the event coordinator, called an end to the first round of the tournament.
“We have thirty players going to tomorrow’s final round of the Native Sun Casino’s Million
Dollah
Texas Hold ‘Em Tournament!”
He aimed the microphone at his teeth and threw his arm forward like a javelin.
“Our chip leader is
Sadiya al-Jamil Ullah
,” he sucked in a breath, “with a whopping Two Hundred and Nineteen Thousand buck-a-roonis!”
There was much clapping for Sadiya, and just as much eye-rolling.
“He sounds like a fag cowboy,” said Cash.
Sadiya frowned.
“What is a buck-a-rooni?”
Greg Sheffield’s voice screeched over the applause.
“Get on up and tip yer hat, little lady!”
Sadiya stood slowly, glaring at him across the crowd.
She raised her pink cowboy hat over her head, and photographers began snapping pictures.
She then reached up and cupped one of her breasts with her free hand.
The camera clicks trickled away to be replaced by whoops and laughter.
Greg Sheffield coughed into the microphone.
“Okay, good, thank you,” he said, all traces of his Texan drawl forgotten.
Waving her down, he shook his head and slapped his smile back on his face.
“All players will be back here tomorrow for the final Shoot-Out at 10pm sharp!
Good night everyone – and good luck!”
Cash slapped his hand down on his chip bag.
“He thinks he’s the Connecticut Dick Clark.”
He jutted his chin out towards Max’s chip bag.
“What’d you end up with, kid?”
“Well I tried to clean out Sadiya but she had too much of a lead on me.
When she went all in with me I couldn’t bust her out.”
Max sealed the strip on the security bag.
“Forty-two thousand.
Barely more than I started with.”
“Better than a free beer at the bar.
That’s all some of these poor jerks got.”
Max accepted a pen from the dealer and signed his signature across the seal on the bag.
“How’d you do?”
Cash shrugged his thick shoulders, making the collar of his tuxedo jump.
“Eighty or ninety grand, something like that.
So what was the hold-up with you getting here?
I ain’t never seen you late for anything.
You’re one of them anal receptive types.”
“It’s anal
retentive.
And I just like to stick to plan.”
“Fussy.
That’s the word that describes you.”
Max sighed.
“There was a problem upstairs.”
“Don’t tell me they bumped you outta the corner suite.
Everybody knows that’s your suite, Max.
You got a medical condition – you gotta have the same stuff over and over. What’s it called?
Obsessive convulsive.”
“It’s
compulsive.
And I’m not that either.
I like things to stay the same.”
“Remember when they bumped you outta your regular suite at the Taj?
You didn’t sleep for two days straight.
You had to move the bed to the other side of the room and trick yourself into thinking it was your regular room.
Then the fucking headboard was bolted to the wall and wouldn’t move and every time you looked over at that wall – ”
“I remember!”
Cash whipped out his cell phone.
“Want me to call Damien Valentine?
That host is wrapped around my pinky so tight I’m thinking of having him gold-plated so he matches my watch.
He’ll get you your suite.”
“Look, I
have
the corner suite.
Antonio always gets me the corner suite.
I’m all set.”
“Damn right.
They have to treat you like one of them handicaps.
They have to keep your special room, you know?
They gotta respect that.”
“I’m not handicapped.”
Max lowered his voice.
“It’s a
phobia.
”
“That’s what I’ve been saying, kid.
Listen, I get it.
Your parents never took you anywhere but casinos.
You never went to school like other kids.
Never did karate, soccer, none of that shit.
You haven’t been
socialized
, is all.
I was watching one of them academic channels.
There was this monkey born in captivity in a circus…”
“Oh come on…”
“Just listen.
So this monkey never went outside the cage or the tent.
Not once.
Then these do-gooders drive him out to
Africa
in some Jeep to let him go.
You know what he did?”
Max waved at a waitress for a drink.
“He never left the Jeep.”
“Wrong.
He jumps right
outta
the Jeep and starts running around like a nut.
Going in circles, waving his arms.
He’s happy as can be.
All the people in the Jeep are clapping and crying.
Then this music starts playing.
Sappy stuff.
Can’t remember the name of the song.”
“Born Free?”
“Maybe.
Anyway this lion comes outta nowhere and rips this monkey’s head right off!
Suddenly the thing ain’t running around no more.
Its body’s just laying there twitching, and it poops itself.
That happens when you die.”
Cash downed the rest of his beer.
“Saddest fucking thing I ever saw.”
Max gaped at him.
“What the hell is the point of that story?”
“Don’t fuck with handicaps.
Let them stay in their cage.”
Max accepted his champagne from the waitress and took a long swallow.
“Hey, cheers,” said Cash.
Max accepted the clink of the empty beer bottle.
“You always know just what to say to make me feel better.”
Cash reached around and clapped him on the back.
“You’re welcome, kid.
Where you going now?”
“Back to my cage.”
Before he could stand Sadiya came up next to him and removed his pink cowboy hat.
“I am taking this.
Spoils of war.”
Max rubbed his hands through his hair.
“Congratulations on winning the round.”
“You are coming back to fold your cards some more tomorrow?”
“I’m feeling better, thanks for asking.”
“Good.
I arranged for us to be at the same table.”
“Okay.”
“You say
okay
for everything.”
She took a deep breath, her breasts straining at her sequined top. “How about if you come to my room for fucking?
You say okay again, cowboy?”
Cash pushed Max back and leaned forward.
“Let’s keep this civilized.
Nobody fucks Max.”
Max frowned.
“Well not
nobody,
” said Cash, patting Max on the shoulder.
“I’m sure
somebody
has done it before.”
He stood abruptly and yanked Max to his feet, shouldering him away from the table.
“See what I mean about the lion?
Don’t look her in the eyes.”