I motioned at the Slurpee. “Get me one?”

“Nope.”

“Thanks.”

He shrugged. “Figured we wouldn’t look that tough if both of us had one.”

“Oh.”

“But if we don’t have to look tough for whatever the fuck we are doing here, then I apologize.” He stuck his tongue out and took a long lick on the straw. “And you can have mine.” He held it out.

“I guess we’ll have to look tough.”

“Vindication.” He nodded at the casino. “Are we here to try our luck?”

“Something like that,” I said.

We walked inside. It might as well have been Las Vegas, with coins hitting trays, the relentless ringing of slot machines, bright lights, no clocks, and a noise level that made it hard to think. An occasional joyful scream as someone hit what they considered a jackpot. Old couples huddled at machines, slowly extracting quarters from a plastic bucket.

“Oh, I love the Wheel of Fortune one,” Carter said, pointing at a giant machine with his Slurpee. “I wonder if they have The Price is Right one.”

“I’ll see if we can get you a roll of quarters.”

We moved through the casino to a cage in the center that had an information sign. I asked where the administrative offices were, and we were pointed to a bank of elevators.

Riding up, Carter asked, “We applying for jobs?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d look great in one of those cocktail waitress outfits.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened.

“Thank you for noticing,” Carter said.

The admin floor felt like being miles away from the casino. Plush carpeting. Tasteful artwork on the walls. No incessant bell ringing. The elevator had transported us to another world.

An attractive woman with a bun of blond hair greeted us from behind an oak reception desk. “Gentlemen, how can I help you?”

Carter whispered, “Gentlemen?” and chuckled before he went back to sucking on his straw.

“We’re looking for Ben Moffitt,” I said.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Do we need one?”

She smiled patiently. “Of course. Mr. Moffitt is a very busy man.” She seemed to finally notice that we were dressed in shorts and T-shirts and one of us was enjoying a Slurpee. “Has there been a problem in the casino?”

“No, ma’am,” I said. “We were just hoping to speak with Mr. Moffitt.”

“Are you selling something?” she asked, squinting at us like that might help her figure us out.

“If you could tell him it’s in regard to San Quentin, that would be great,” I said, smiling.

She looked back and forth between us for a moment, then picked up the phone. She turned away from us as if she was looking at her computer, but I thought the move was more to keep us from hearing.

“Carolyn, I’ve got two young men out here asking to see Mr. Moffitt,” she said, apology apparent in her voice. “Regarding San Quentin?”

She looked at me, smiled, and held up a finger to indicate it would be a second. I gave her a thumbs up. Carter moved the straw up and down in the lid so that it made a horrible groaning noise. She frowned in his direction. He gave her a thumbs up, too.

Her eyes moved away again. “Alright. Certainly. Thank you, Carolyn.”

She hung up and swiveled back to us. “Gentlemen, I’m sorry. Mr. Moffitt’s schedule is full today. If you’d like to leave a card, I can have his assistant get back with you to schedule a better time.”

I pulled a card out of my pocket. “May I borrow a pen?”

She smiled, grateful that I wasn’t going to fight her on it. She passed a pen to me.

I flipped the card over and wrote “Russell Simington” on the back. I slid the card and pen to her.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d take that to him right away,” I said. “Tell him we’ll be in the casino for a while. He can find us there.”

She picked up the card. “I’d be happy to take this back, but I doubt he’ll be able to see you today. But if he should ask, where in the casino might you be?”

I turned and headed for the elevator, Carter on my heels.

“We’ll be the ones making a commotion,” I said.

TWENTY-ONE

“Commotion?” Carter asked when the elevator let us out in the casino.

“Commotion,” I said.

“You’re not just teasing me, are you?”

“Nope. I needed something you were good at.”

I thought he was going to start skipping, he looked so happy.

We went to the change cage, and I bought a hundred bucks in chips. I handed Carter half. Then we found a roulette table.

As we slid into the seats, I whispered to Carter, “Go crazy, dude.”

He gave a tiny nod and set his Slurpee on the edge of the table.

A guy with dark hair and circles under his eyes greeted us. “Hello, gentlemen. Thank you for choosing Bareva. Place your bets, please.”

“Sure thing, boss,” I said. Then I looked at Carter and said louder than necessary, “I bet I’m gonna kick your ass here, bro.”

“You and what person twice your size, bozo?” he said, matching my volume. He dropped a couple of chips on black. He glanced at the worker’s nametag. “Fire her up, Bill, and make sure that fuckin’ little pearl lands on black.”

Bill laughed and turned to me. “Sir? Do you wish to bet?”

“I wanna be black,” I said.

“So did Vanilla Ice,” Carter said. “Let’s go. Drop your money.” “You may also bet on black, sir,” Bill said.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I want to be the only one on black.”

A perplexed expression settled on Bill’s face. I looked at Carter. “Next round, I’m black.” “Whatever, Vanilla.” He pounded the edge of the table. “Come on. Let’s go.”

I dropped a couple of chips on red.

Bill spun the wheel. The tiny ball jumped like it was electrified. “Come on, you little fucker!” Carter yelled, pounding the table again.

The ball bounced into the black slot and settled as the wheel came to a halt.

Carter stood and jumped up and down like a two-year-old in a crib. “Oh yeah, baby! Pay the big man!”

Bill laughed and slid some chips toward Carter. Carter reached for them, but I grabbed his wrist before he got there.

“That’s my money,” I said.

“The fuck it is, Vanilla,” he said, appropriately appalled. “And you better let go of me before I make you eat this wheel.” “I called black.”

“Too slow, bozo.” He glanced at Bill, like can-you-believe-my-buddy. “Bill, that’s my money, dude.”

Bill now appeared as if he wished he’d called in sick. “Fellas, let’s calm down.”

People were creeping closer, unable to ignore our voices.

“My money,” I said.

“My ass,” Carter said.

I tackled him, and we fell to the floor.

“This is fun,” Carter whispered as he rolled me over.

I wrapped my arms around his head. “Just you wait.”

A flurry of people surrounded us and began pulling us apart. We both ended up in the arms of security guards. Lots of yelling and people telling us to calm down. For a moment, I wondered if our show was all for naught.

Finally, though, from the area near the elevators, three men in dark suits came toward us. Large, severe men.

I looked at Carter. “Here comes the real fun.”

TWENTY-TWO

One of the suits took me by the arm. Not roughly, but more like he was escorting me around an art gallery.

He smiled politely. “Sir, if you’d like to come with us.” It wasn’t a question, but it lacked the threat I was expecting.

The two other suits gestured at Carter but didn’t take his arm. A wise move.

We moved away from the scene of our lunacy and toward the elevators. My escort let go of my arm but was still smiling. “You succeeded in getting Mr. Moffitt’s attention.”

“Imagine,” I said.

The elevator opened, and we all stepped in. I marveled that somewhere in the action Carter had managed to retain his Slurpee. He was sucking on the straw as if nothing had happened.

My escort stuck a key in a lock above the floor numbers and turned it. The doors closed, and we rose much higher than the fourth floor where we’d originally started. I guessed we went up about ten floors.