“And Rufus is one of these people.”

“He sure is.”

“Give me an example.”

The gambling world was replete with stories of how Rufus Steele had conned suckers out of their hardearned dough. He sensed that Gloria had taken a liking to Rufus, and he tried to pick a story that wouldn’t offend her too badly.

“Rufus is the master of the proposition bet. Know what those are?”

She shook her head.

“A proposition bet is one that you can’t win, even though it looks fair. Here’s one of my favorites. Rufus showed up at a dog track in Miami one day. It was early in the morning, and the track wasn’t officially open. With him is a greyhound with a big, lumpy belly. The dog looks like it’s pregnant. Rufus starts chiding the trainers, and tells them that his dog is faster than theirs. Within five minutes, he’s got everyone riled up, and a bunch of trainers willing to bet him otherwise. Needless to say, Rufus took them on.”

“Did he win the bet?”

“Of course he won,” Valentine said.

“But I thought you said the dog was pregnant.”

“The dog lookedpregnant. Rufus had fed her a bowl of hard-boiled eggs for breakfast. For some reason, they blow up a dog’s stomach, but they don’t affect their movement. The dog was also a world-class runner. It beat the field by two lengths.”

“How clever.”

“Clever like a fox. Rufus won thirty grand on that bet.”

“Thirty grand? That’s cheating.”

“It sure is.”

Gloria stared out the windshield at the convenience store. She looked defeated, and glanced at her watch, then across the seat at him.

“I think I’ll take you up on that hot drink,” she said.

Valentine bought two cups of coffee and shared a cinnamon doughnut with her. He felt he needed to impress her, yet at the same time, didn’t want to get too close and blow his investigation. He pointed at the last piece of doughnut and said, “That’s got your name on it.”

She popped the piece into her mouth and smiled as she chewed.

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time,” she said.

“I get the feeling that I’ve put you in a bad spot.”

“Sort of.”

“Tell me what the problem is. If I can help you, I will.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I mean it.”

She wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “It’s like this, Tony. Next year, I turn fifty. In the broadcast news business, that’s a mature age for a man, ancient for a woman. I’m being put out to pasture. No more major league baseball games or NFL football analysis or any plum assignments. It’s billiards tournaments and lumberjack competitions these days. Covering the World Poker Showdown was a favor by the head of the network. And I blew it.”

“You mean by saying there was cheating.”

“Yes. Based on what you just told me, I can’t prove it. Mark Perrier, the guy who runs Celebrity, is threatening a lawsuit if I don’t recant the story. If I dorecant, I’ll lose my job with the network. What’s the expression? I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I don’t know what to do.”

Perrier was the same guy who’d threatened him over the phone two nights ago. Valentine was seeing a pattern that he didn’t like. Perrier should be trying to get to the bottom of these allegations instead of covering them up. He reached over and touched Gloria’s sleeve. She looked into his face, her eyes hopeful.

“Do you know what the bad part about getting old is?” he asked.

“The wrinkles?”

“People don’t think you count anymore.”

“Oh,” she said.

“As a result, you spend a lot of time showing people you docount. Sort of like when you were a kid, and no one took you seriously.”

“You’re saying growing old is like regressing.”

“To other people it is. Now, I’m going to level with you, and I don’t want it going any further than this car. Understood?”

“Certainly,” Gloria said.

“I didn’t travel three thousand miles to investigate some pissant scam. There’s something seriously wrong with this tournament and I’m going to find out what it is. It might take me a few days, so here’s what I suggest you do. Have your boss at the network call me. I’ll tell him what I just told you. I’ll also promise him that you’ll get an exclusive once I’m done. That should get you off the hook.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course I mean it.”

The look on her face was something special. Surprise and happiness and something akin to admiration all rolled into one. She brought her body across the seat, placed her hand against his chin, and planted a kiss on his cheek. Her lips were soft, and brought back long-buried memories that made his heart stir.

“Thank you, Tony,” she said.

14

Valentine took out his business card and wrote his cell number on the back. He’d only given his cell number to a handful of people over the years, yet handed it readily to Gloria Curtis. He started the car and pointed it toward Las Vegas.

“Tell your boss to call me anytime,” he said.

“I will. His name is Ralph. He has a tough exterior, but deep down he’s a real jerk.”

Valentine laughed. “He ride you hard?”

“Like a mule.” She pulled a pack of Kools from her purse and banged one out. “Mind if I smoke?”

“I might attack you.”

“Trying to quit?”

“Yes. I kicked the habit when I was a cop, didn’t smoke for twenty years. Two years ago I started again. Now, I’m not sure if I’ll ever quit.”

“Why did you start again?”

“My wife died.”

“I’m terribly sorry.”

“Then my son joined my business,” he added, forcing a smile. “I think that was the clincher.”

“May I ask you a question about your son?”

Valentine stiffened. Talking about Gerry with strangers was never a favorite subject: too many surprises came up. He pointed out the window at the buff desert ringed with bluish mountains. “Sure is beautiful scenery,” he said.

“Did you bring him to Las Vegas to help you with this case?”

The road back to town was as straight as an arrow. He stared at the double line in its center while playing her question back in his head. The first part was a statement of fact—Gerry was here, and somehow Gloria had found out—the second a question.

“How did you know my son was in Las Vegas?”

“Guess,” she said. “I already gave you a clue.”

“You did?”

“Yes. Remember how we met?”

Valentine continued to stare at the road. “You met me at my plane, meaning you have a contact with the airlines who told you what flight I was on.”

“That’s right,” she said, lighting up.

“That’s illegal, you know.”

She choked on the cigarette’s smoke. “You sound like a cop when you say that.”

“Sorry.”

“Do you want a cigarette or not?”

“Can I just have a puff of yours?”

She shook her head, and he took one and let her light it. He filled his lungs with the great-tasting smoke, and for about five seconds the world felt right again. It wasn’t long, but sometimes that was all you needed.

“Your airport contact must have seen that Gerry flew here, and told you,” he said.

“Your powers of deduction are amazing,” Gloria replied, holding her cigarette like a movie starlet. “So, do you work cases often with your son?”

“Sometimes.”

“Bringing a kid into a family business must be hard,” she said.

The road had become super-sized, as had the cars passing by. Gerry was supposed to be in Puerto Rico, looking after his wife and baby, and not here in Sin City, doing whatever the hell he was doing. Valentine took several deep breaths and felt himself calm down.

“You have no idea,” he said. “Where are you staying?”