Wild Card

“Drop the gun, and put your hands in the air,” Tony said.

Hollis glanced over his shoulder, then turned to look at her. “I love you. You realize that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Lois said quietly.

Hollis shoved the young cop into the dining room, then spun around like a gunslinger. Her husband emptied the .38 into him, the bullets tearing through his sweatshirt. Hollis staggered back and stopped a few feet from where Lois stood. He made a face like he was dying. Then, he burst out laughing.

“Fooled you!” Hollis shouted.

He lifted his sweatshirt, and showed Lois the bulletproof vest he’d stolen from the police cruiser. He was a magician, and had tricked them.

“Now, it’s my turn,” Hollis said.

Hollis walked toward the kitchen aiming the weapon at her husband. Tony had run out of bullets, and was helpless. Their eyes met. He mouthed the words I love you to his wife.

Lois did not remember moving toward the china cabinet, or snatching up the Model 65, or the sickening sound it made as she emptied it into the back of Hollis’s head. All she remembered was Tony holding her in his arms a few moments later, and telling her that everything would be all right. Feeling safe was all she’d ever wanted, and she prayed that maybe this time, he was right.

Chapter 58

The hookers eating breakfast at Harold’s House of Pancakes gave Valentine a hero’s welcome the next morning, with plenty of kisses and hugs. He was blushing by the time he slipped into a booth, and a gum-chewing waitress took his order.

Fuller and Romero came in a few minutes later, and sat across from him. Through Banko, he’d learned that the two FBI agents were facing an official reprimand from their bosses for leaving Atlantic City while Hollis was still on the loose. They were both in hot water, and facing uncertain futures.

Normally, Valentine wouldn’t have cared. They had made their beds, and now they had to sleep in them. Only there was unfinished business that needed attending to, and he had decided that Fuller and Romero were the perfect pair to make things right.

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” Valentine said.

Fuller put his elbows on the table. “In case you haven’t heard, we’re screwed.”

“Come to mention it, I did hear that. This could change things.”

Fuller glanced at his partner, then back at him. “Change things how?”

“Make you look good.”

“How the hell are you going to do that?”

“When I got the job to police Resorts’ casino, I thought I was supposed to keep cheaters out. But then I found out something worse was going on. A skim was happening right in front of my nose. A hundred grand a day out the door.”

“Mafia?” Fuller said.

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

“It’s their speciality.”

“This may be their crown jewel. Resorts makes twenty million a month profit. Fifteen percent of that money is used for comps to lure high rollers. It’s the same formula used in Las Vegas, only we’re not Las Vegas. Las Vegas is in the desert. Atlantic City is a two hour drive for fifty million people. We don’t need to give away anything. Only the auditors don’t realize that.”

“So the mob is stealing comp money,” Romero said.

“That’s right.”

Fuller acted skeptical. “Where’s your proof?”

Valentine removed the Prince’s address book from his pocket along with the write-up of the skim which he’d planned to send to the newspaper. He slid both across the table. “The address book contains the names of the runners. The ringleader is a New York mobster named Vinny Acosta. Every day, a runner goes into the casino, and draws a credit line at the cage for a hundred grand. He plays for a while, then cashes the chips, and leaves with the money. The loss is shown on the books as paying for comps.”

Fuller took his time reading through his notes. Holding the page which described how the loss was being hidden by Resorts’ bookkeeping department, he said, “This reads like a big job.”

“It is,” Valentine said.

Fuller put his elbows on the table, and lowered his voice. “Let’s make sure we’re all on the same page. You want the FBI to set up a sting, tail these people, tap their phones, and put all the pieces of the puzzle together.”

“That’s right. Think you can handle it?”

“That’s what we do every day.”

“I know that.”

Fuller leaned closer. Romero leaned in as well.

“So what’s the catch,” Fuller said, sounding skeptical.