Stanley kicked him in the shin. Then he reached up with his other hand to grab the weapon. The faces of Beasley and the scarecrow and Juan all flashed through Valentine’s mind. Three dead men, about to be joined by a fourth.
He twisted Stanley’s wrist so the automatic was pointing downward into the stockbroker’s face. Gave him a second to change his mind. Stanley looked into Valentine’s eyes with hatred.
“Fuck you,” he said.
Valentine squeezed Stanley’s hand, and the gun went off in his face.
54
That night, Mabel cooked dinner for Gerry and Yolanda in her house. She fixed them her favorite meal—chicken and dumplings with corn bread and collard greens, then strawberry shortcake for dessert. It was food to feed the soul, and her guests ladled more praise on her than she was used to. It was also a lot of work, and afterward she scrubbed the pots in the sink while Gerry helped her dry. In the next room they could hear Yolanda lying on the living-room floor, playing with the baby. Gerry had stepped off the plane that afternoon not knowing if his family was all right, and the look of relief had yet to disappear from his face. He dried the last pot and put it away in the cupboard while Mabel hung up her apron.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
“Of course.”
Gerry turned on the back porch light and stepped outside onto the stoop. Mabel joined him and swatted away at the mosquitos that had instantly appeared. Gerry stood with the drying towel stretched between his hands and spoke in a hushed tone. “I need to ask you a huge favor.”
Mabel nodded, then saw a look on Gerry’s face that said a nod was not enough.
“Certainly,” she said.
Gerry put the towel over his shoulder, then reached into the pocket of his shirt and removed a folded square of paper. With the paper came a small metal key. He handed both to Mabel, then cupped his hands around the older woman’s.
“A man on his deathbed gave me that key. It’s for a safe-deposit box. The bank where the safe-deposit box is located is on that piece of paper. The name of the man’s sister and her address are also on the paper. I want you to take the key to her.”
Mabel unfolded the paper. The man’s sister lived in a retirement village in St. Augustine on the other side of the state. It was easily a four-hour drive.
“What’s in the box?” Mabel said.
“Money.”
“How much money?”
“A million and a half dollars.”
Mabel sucked in her breath. “Why…can’t you do this?”
A sad smile spread across his face. “I was going to. Yolanda and I were going to make the trip together. Go to St. Augustine and see the sights, then track down the sister. Only, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was a bad idea.”
“But St. Augustine is a fun place to visit. You can see the old fort and the village. Did you know that it’s the oldest city in America?”
Gerry shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I’m afraid that sometime during the trip, I’d start thinking about all the things Yolanda and I could do with the money. Like buying a bigger house, or a new car, or prepaid college tuition for the baby. And maybe I’d talk myself into asking the sister to share the money. You know, like a finder’s fee. I’d figure out a way to convince myself that it was okay. I’d tell myself that since the sister doesn’t know the money existed, she shouldn’t object to sharing it.”
“What your father calls criminal logic.”
“That’s right.”
“So you’re afraid of being tempted,” Mabel said.
Gerry looked directly into her eyes. “Yes.”
“But you know it’s wrong. I can hear it in your voice.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Money does that to me.”
Mabel folded the paper around the key and slipped it into her pocket. A look of relief spread across Gerry’s face, and she took him into her arms and held him like he was one of her own children.
“For you, dear, anything,” she said.
Epilogue
The State of Nevada versus Lucille Price,” the bailiff announced.
Valentine saw Lucy Price’s attorney jump to his feet. He was a short guy, heavyset, and approached the bench while buttoning the middle button of his jacket. The judge was a woman and seemed to appreciate the gesture. Her courtroom was filled with drunks and prostitutes and crackheads. Little things counted here.
Lucy’s attorney explained to the judge that his client wanted to change her plea. The judge looked at Lucy sitting in the front row, then at her attorney. It wasn’t a kind look. Lucy spun around in her chair and shot Valentine a dagger. He was sitting two rows back, and it felt like a slap in the face.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
She made a face like she didn’t believe him, then spun back around. He’d flown out from New York and shown up on her doorstep last night. He’d avoided her for so long, she’d slammed the door in his face. But he’d rung the bell again. This time when she answered, he’d begged forgiveness.
She let him take her to dinner at Smith & Wollensky on the strip. For his money, it was the best restaurant in town. She ate a Cobb salad, while he ate a New York strip steak. By the time dessert came, she was holding his hand and whispering to him.
During the drive home, she fantasized about them running away together. That was why he’d come, she speculated. He’d rented a private jet, and it was now sitting on the tarmac at McCarran, its final destination someplace exotic, like Acapulco or Cancun. Listening to her ramble on, he’d felt immensely sad.
When they reached her doorstep, she’d tried to kiss him.
“No,” he said.
“But—”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”
“We’re not…running away?”
He’d put his hands on her shoulders and shaken his head. The look in her eyes had been painful. The death of hope was always wrenching.
At seven o’clock the next morning, Valentine drove Lucy to the Clark County Courthouse on South Third Street, two blocks south of the Fremont Street Experience. He’d been to the courthouse on several occasions to act as an expert witness in a trial. That it was located near several seedy casinos in the worst part of town had always seemed a perfect metaphor for Las Vegas.
Lucy wore a conservative blue dress and little makeup and said nothing during the ride. Parking was not available in front of the courthouse, and he drove to the mammoth county parking structure a block away. As he parked, he told her that he’d called his friend Bill Higgins and gotten the skinny on the judge. “Her name’s Redmond. She used to be a public defender and has experience dealing with problem gamblers. That’s in your favor.”
“Why’s that?” Lucy said.
“She understands how casinos seduce people. A person with a gambling problem becomes falsely elevated in a casino. It changes who they are, just like a drug.”
“Is that what happens to me?”
“Yes,” he said.
“And this judge knows that?”
