How to Stroke Your Stray by Melissa Banczak

Author:Melissa Banczak [Banczak, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melissa Banczak

She capped the pen and gave me the napkin. “For your partner.” And then she tilted her head and shook a finger at my face. “That’s it. That’s how I know you. You’re on a nature show with your brother. Good Adventures.”

She must have been a casual viewer. “It’s Gone Herpin’ and I’m not in it, my brother Dewey’s the one on camera. I’m behind the scenes. I handle things for him.” I picked up my glass for another sip of sweet smoky Zacapa.

“I’ve never seen the show. I’ve only played the machine.”

“What machine?”

“Good Adventures.”

Maybe she wasn’t as smart as I’d thought. “That’s the catch phrase for my brother’s show, Gone Herpin’.”

“Yeah, that’s what the machine says if you get five Deweys and the bonus round kicks in.”

“This is a slot machine?” The fingers of my free hand curled into a fist.

“Yeah, in the casino downstairs. There’s a whole bank of them….” She twisted in her seat, closed her eyes and then pointed to her left. “Over near the windows. Across from the blackjack tables.”

“And I’m on this machine?” I downed the rest of my drink in one gulp and let out a raspy breath as the liquid clawed its way down my throat. The bartender had been paying attention and had a fresh drink ready.

Loretta dug the pickle out of her glass and took a generous bite. “Yeah, in the bonus round, players click on different pillowcases to see if there are snakes inside. Different snakes have different values. If your face pops up instead, the game is over and the player loses whatever bonus money they had built up. It’s kinda funny.”

It kinda wasn’t. I needed to call my mom’s friend Harrison Kim. I had some suing to do. If this was news to me it was news to Dewey.

Loretta drained her glass and stood up. “So, you can see, I didn’t kill Claire.”

Who cared? I needed to get photographic evidence of that slot machine for my lawsuit.

Cyrano met me inside the door of my suite, and Morgan was in the kitchen with a bowl of guacamole, a bag of chips and a beer. He blocked the path to my bedroom. “There you are. Where’s Enzo?”

Oh blast. I’d forgotten all about the little dog.

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