She wasn’t touching the food, preferring to watch him. He always got hungry when he was working, and he nodded and bit into his sandwich. The tuna fish was spicy, just the way he liked it. He finished the sandwich, then helped himself to the potato chips. Her eyes never wavered, and once he saw her start to grin, only to see it fade.
“That was good,” he said. “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
“I wanted to see you again,” she said.
The words had a more powerful effect on him than he would have liked. Being married forty years, he’d taken for granted that there was a woman in his life who wanted to see him again. Losing that had been one of the hardest things he’d ever endured.
“Oh,” he said.
“I have something for you,” Lucy said.
He followed her into one of the bedrooms. It was as Spartan as the rest of the house, with none of the furniture matching. On the bed lay three pairs of men’s pants, one tan, one black, one brown. She said, “My ex’s. Don’t know why he left them behind, maybe to remind me of something.”
Valentine checked the labels. Waist 35, leg 34. His size. Lucy said, “If any of them fit, they’re yours,” and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. For a long moment he stood there, not knowing what to make of the offer, and then realized she was just trying to be nice. Taking off his pants, he began trying the clothes on.
The black pair fit just right.
He appraised his reflection in the vanity. Black had always been his best color. A strange thought occurred to him. Lucy resembled his late wife in many ways. Did he bear any resemblance to her ex-husband?
He looked around the room for a picture. On the dresser he spied a plastic frame, turned facedown. He picked it up. It was of Lucy, taken several years ago. Her hair was frosted, but otherwise she looked the same. She was holding a giant check and smiling. The check was from the Flamingo casino, and made out to her for $250,000.
He stared at the picture for a long moment. In his mind’s eye, he saw her at the Flamingo, sitting in front of a slot machine, the reels showing JACKPOT and the machine going bonkers. Saw her jump up and down and scream. Felt all her joy.
It answered all the questions he’d had about her. He put the picture back the way he’d found it and walked out of the bedroom. He found her on the couch in the living room, leafing through a glossy magazine. Before he could sit down, she made him walk in front of her, and nodded her head approvingly. “That’s much better. Those other pants made you look—”
“Like an old geezer?”
“Frumpy,” she corrected. “These make you look sexy. Wish they’d made my husband look that way.”
Sexy. He couldn’t remember anyone ever describing him that way before, and he wasn’t sure he believed her. The couch sagged as he sat down. She threw the magazine to the floor and turned sideways. He tried to think of a tactful way to say what he wanted to say, only he’d never been good in that department, so he just spit it out.
“I just had an epiphany,” he said.
“I thought only Joan of Arc had those.”
“I’ve had them since I was a kid,” he explained. “I’ll look at something that doesn’t make sense, and my brain will turn it upside down, and then it does make sense.”
“Are they accompanied by bolts of lightning and clashes of thunder?”
He shook his head. “Nothing that dramatic.”
“Are you going to share yours?”
“It’s about you.”
Her jaw tightened. “Well, then I guess I’m entitled to hear it.”
He put his hands into his lap, suddenly feeling uncomfortable as hell. Taking a deep breath, he said, “In the bedroom I saw a picture of you winning a quarter million bucks. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Was it your first time playing the slots when you won that jackpot?”
She drew back in surprise. “How did you know that?”
“It’s a common denominator among people who play a lot.”
“You mean among slot queens?”
He nodded, glad she’d used the expression first.
“Is that what makes us addicts?” Lucy asked, her voice serious. “We won big the first time and thought we had the magic touch?”
He nodded, and added, “Winning changes people.”
“I can buy that. Is that your epiphany?”
“There’s more.”
“Fire away.”
He took another deep breath, then said, “I need to explain something. Have you ever heard the expression
“No.”
“Cheaters use takeoff agents to win money at rigged games. Usually, they’re guys between thirty-five and fifty who like to gamble and resent the casinos for taking their money. Cheaters usually find them in casino bars crying in their beers.
“The cheater takes the guy to a poker game and deals him several winning hands. The guy’s behavior is scrutinized. If he passes muster, he finds out the game is rigged and the other players are part of the team. Then his role in the scam is explained to him.”
“What does this have to do with me?”
“Not long ago, you were playing slots at the Acropolis, and you met a guy. He’s a smooth talker and a real charmer. So smooth, you stopped wondering where he got the scar on his face.”
Lucy swallowed very hard.
“He’s a crossroader—he rips off casinos for a living. Somehow he knew you had the magic touch. He got talking to you, and asked you if you’d ever played blackjack.”
Valentine hesitated. He was guessing now, and waited for her to respond.
“Go on,” she said.
“You said no, you hadn’t. He told you about virgin luck—how people who play for the first time often win. You knew what he was talking about, because you’d won a quarter million at slots the first time.”
Lucy’s face had turned stone cold. He could no longer read her expressions or her feelings. He said, “He took out a Basic Strategy card and taught you how to play. Then he took out a deck of cards and dealt you several hands. And an amazing thing happened. You won every hand. He was so impressed, he offered to stake you. He gave you ten grand, and pointed at a blackjack table. If you won, you’d split the winnings. If you lost, you wouldn’t owe him a thing.”
He stopped because Lucy’s eyes told him to stop. She said, “How the hell do you know that? Were you spying on me the whole time?”
Valentine shook his head.
“Then explain yourself. And don’t give me any more cock and bull about having an epiphany. I stopped believing in that nonsense when I quit reading romance novels.”
He stared at the worn patch of carpet between his feet. He’d never been good at sugarcoating things, and he knew that he’d hurt her.
“He set you up. He turned you into his takeoff agent, only you didn’t know it.”
“How did he do that?”
“He’s a mechanic. When you first played, he dealt you winning hands. There was no luck involved.”
“But I
“Half the deck was stacked. He shuffled the half that wasn’t. You couldn’t lose, trust me.”
“Which makes me what? An unwitting shill?”
Valentine said “yes” in a soft voice.
“The blackjack table he told me to play at,” Lucy said. “He was real specific about which one. Was that game rigged as well?”
