0758215630 (R) by EC Sheedy

Author:EC Sheedy [Sheedy, EC]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EC Sheedy
Published: 2015-06-30T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Henry made Tommy Black, with his pit boss slick and silk suit, within ten minutes of stepping into the Sandstone’s casino area. Now all he had to do was wait for him to finish his business in the pit.

Sitting at a slot machine that had a good view of the tables, Henry loaded it with a hundred-dollar bill.

Fifteen minutes later, Black left the pit. About time, too. Henry was already down eighty bucks.

Black walked past him, stopped at a blackjack table a few feet away from Henry and his mermaid-themed slot, and spoke to one of the dealers, giving Henry time to give him a solid once over. The guy looked like a pushover, and it sure as hell looked like the sister got all the looks in the family—and the height. Black wasn’t much taller than Henry and probably forty pounds lighter.

When Black left the table area, Henry cashed out on the slot and followed him out of the casino. A block down, he turned the corner onto a less busy street, stopped to take a short cell call, then picked up his pace. Henry knew exactly where he was going. The Sandstone was an old casino, refurbished in the last five years, but that didn’t include employee parking. This ancient, three-story lot a couple of blocks off Fremont was as good as it got.

A half block before the lot, Henry made his move. Stepping up behind Black, he centered his Glock on a kidney.

“Keep moving,” Henry said, leaning close enough to spit the words right into his ear.

“What the—” Black jerked, turned.

Henry stabbed him hard with the gun muzzle. “I said keep moving. Do what I say and you won’t get hurt.” Henry prodded him again, this time easing off. “Just go where you’re going.” When they’d made the turn, Henry hustled Black to his own rented Taurus, which he’d parked in the shadows along the back end of the lot. It was early enough that this part of the lot was empty, but knowing this town, it wouldn’t be for long.

At the Taurus, Henry dug out his keys, opened the driver’s side door with his left hand and said, “Get in.”

Black didn’t move. “If it’s money you want,” he said, his voice shaky, “I’ve got about four hundred on me.” He made a move for his pocket.

Henry lifted the gun a fraction. “Keep your fuckin’ hands where I can see them. I don’t want your minus-piss money. Just get the hell in the car, and keep your mouth shut until I tell you to open it.”

He didn’t move but sweat clustered on Black’s forehead. Even in the shade of the parking garage, the August heat made it hell-hot. When it looked like Black was going to open his yap again, Henry planted the gun barrel in his cheek and pushed hard enough to leave a tattoo. “Get the fuck in the car.”

He got in.

Circling the front of the car, his eyes and gun on Black, Henry made for the passenger seat.

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