"All your waypoints were wiped out. There's only one on it now and you won't catch any fish there."
"Ah, goddamnit! I should've known."
"Anyway, they're going to ask you all about it and all about Terry and that last charter. Just like I did."
"So they're running behind you, huh? Playing catchup. You're the man, Harry."
"Not really."
I knew what was coming. Buddy turned in his seat and leaned toward me.
"Take me with you, Harry. I'm telling you I can help. I'm smart. I can figure things out."
"Put your seat belt on, Buddy."
I jumped into reverse before he got a chance and he almost went into the dashboard.
We headed over to the strip and slowly made our way down to the Bellagio. It was early evening and the sidewalks were cooling off and getting crowded. I saw that the overhead trams and walkways were becoming full. The neon from every facade on the street was lighting dusk up like a brilliant sunset. Almost. Buddy continued to lobby me for a part in the investigation but I fended him off at every turn. After we pulled in around the huge front fountain and under the casino's giant entry portico I told the valet man that we were just picking somebody up and he directed me to a curb, telling me not to leave the car unattended.
"Who we picking up?" Buddy asked, new life in his voice.
"Nobody. I just said that. Tell you what, you want to work with me, Buddy? Then stay here in the car for a few minutes so they won't tow it away. I need to run in here real quick."
"What for?"
"To see if somebody's here."
"Who?"
I jumped out of the car and closed the door without answering his question because I knew with Buddy that every answer led to another question and then another and I didn't have time for that.
I knew the Bellagio like I knew the turns on Mul-holland Drive. This was where Eleanor Wish, my ex-wife, made her living, and where I had watched her do so on more than one occasion. I quickly made my way through the plush casino, around the orchard of slot machines and to the poker room.
There were only two poker tables working. It was very early. I quickly scanned the thirteen players and did not see Eleanor. I checked the podium and saw the table manager was a man I knew from coming here with Eleanor and then hanging out and watching while she played. I went over.
"Freddy, what's shaking?"
"A lot of ass shaking around here tonight."
"That's good. Gives you something to look at."
"I'm not complaining."
"Do you know, is Eleanor coming in?"
It was Eleanor's habit to let the table managers know if she intended to come in and play on a particular night. Sometimes they would save places at tables of high rollers or higher skilled players. Sometimes they would set up private games. In a way, my ex was a secret Vegas attraction. She was an attractive woman who was damn good at poker. That presented a challenge to men of a certain kind. The smart casinos knew this and played to it. Eleanor was always treated well at the Bellagio. If she needed anything-from a drink to a suite to a rude player removed from a table-she got it. No questions asked. And that was why she usually played here on the nights she played.
"Yeah, she's coming in," Freddy told me. "I don't have anything for her right now but she'll be coming along."
I waited before hitting him with another question. I had to finesse this. I leaned on the railing and casually watched the dealer at the hold'em table put down the final deal of the hand, the cards scraping on the blue felt like quiet little whispers. Five people had stayed in for the whole ride. I watched a couple of their faces when they looked at the last card. I was watching for tells but didn't see any.
Eleanor had told me once that the real players call the last card in hold'em the "river" because it gives you life or takes it away with it. If you've played the hand through to the seventh card, everything rides on it.
Three of the five players folded right away. The remaining two went back and forth to a call and one of the men I had watched took the pot with three sevens.
"What time did she say she was coming in?" I asked Freddy.
"Uh, she said the usual time. Around eight."
Despite my attempt at being casual about it I could tell Freddy was getting hesitant, realizing his allegiance should be to Eleanor and not her ex-husband. I had what I needed so I thanked him and walked away. Eleanor was planning on putting our daughter to bed and then coming in to work. Maddie would be left with the live-in nanny watching over her.
When I got back to the casino entrance my car was empty. I looked around for Buddy and spotted him talking to one of the valet men. I called to him and waved good-bye. But he came running over and caught me at the door of the Mercedes.
"You taking off?"
"Yeah, I told you. I was just going in for a couple minutes. Thanks for staying with the car like I asked."
He didn't get it.
"No problem," he said. "You find him?"
"Find who?"
"Whoever you were going in there to see."
"Yeah, Buddy, I found him. I'll see you-"
"Come on, man, let's do this thing together. Terry was my friend, too."
That gave me pause.
"Buddy, I understand. But the best thing you can do right now if you want to do something for Terry is go back home, wait for the agents to show up and then tell them every single thing you know. Don't hold back anything."
"You mean including that you sent me over there to the boat to steal the file and get the photos?"
Now he was just trying to taunt me because he finally understood that he was out.
"I don't care if you tell them," I said. "I told you, I'm working with them. They'll know it before you even meet them. But just so you have it straight, I didn't tell you to steal anything. I'm working for Graciela. That boat and everything in it belongs to her. Including those files and those photographs."
I poked him hard in the chest.
"Got it, Buddy?"
He physically backed off.
"Yeah, I got it. I was just-"
"Good."
I then put my hand out. We shook hands but there wasn't anything very pleasant about it.
"I'll catch you later, Buddy."
He let go of my hand and I got in and closed the door. I started it up and drove away. In the mirror I watched him go in through the revolving door and knew he would lose all his money back to the casino before the night was over. He had been right. He should never have walked away from luck.
The dashboard clock told me that Eleanor would not be leaving her house for the night's work at the casino for another ninety minutes. I could head over there now but knew it would be best to wait. I wanted to see my daughter but not my ex-wife. To her everlasting credit Eleanor had been kind enough to allow me full visiting privileges while she was working. So that would not be a problem. And I didn't care if Maddie was awake or not. I just wanted to see her, hear her breathing and touch her hair. But it seemed that every time Eleanor and I crossed paths we skidded sideways and anger from both of us ruled the moment. I knew it was best this way, to come to the house when she was not there.
I could've gone back to the Double X and spent an hour reading the Poet file but instead I drove. Paradise Road was much less congested than the strip. It always is. I took Harmon over and then turned north and almost immediately into the parking lot of the Embassy Suites. I thought maybe Rachel Walling might want a cup of coffee and a fuller explanation of the next day's excursion. I cruised through the lot looking for a bureau car that would be obvious to me because of its cheap hubcaps and government plate. But I didn't see one. I pulled out my cell, called information and got the number for the Embassy Suites. I called and asked for Rachel Walling's room and was put through. The phone rang repeatedly but was not answered. I hung up and thought for a moment. I then reopened my phone and called the cell number she had given me. She answered right away.