Valentine had gone into the Peppermill’s coffee shop with his son. Once seated, they were brought a bowl of fresh fruit. The Peppermill had started out as a coffee shop that served enormous servings of fruit with every meal. Somehow, that had been parlayed into the largest hotel and casino in Reno. Valentine bit into a peach.

“I’m serious,” Gerry cajoled him.

“I eat because I’m working, and working makes me hungry,” Valentine said, taking another bite. “Remember, no matter how big a job is, it’s never more important than eating, or thinking about your family, or anything like that. A job is just a job. It’s the rest of the stuff in your life that’s important. Understand?”

His son dipped his chin. “I guess.”

“Speaking of which, have you talked to your wife lately?”

Gerry shook his head. “No. I left her a couple of voice messages.”

“Not the same thing. Call her.”

Gerry called Yolanda on his cell phone, and his wife proceeded to talk his ear off. Gerry pulled the cell phone away from his ear, and handed it to his father.

“Pop, you need to hear this.”

Valentine put his peach down and the phone to his ear. He listened to Yolanda describe a message she’d gotten from Mabel. His neighbor was at the Micanopy casino in Tampa, trying to help Chief Running Bear catch a crooked poker dealer. Valentine felt the blood drain from his head. Sensing his father’s discomfort, Gerry took the phone and put it to his mouth.

“I’ll call you back,” he said.

“I thought you said Running Bear was a square guy,” Gerry said after hanging up.

“He is,” his father said.

“So, why the long face? You afraid he’ll put the moves on Mabel?”

His father give him a look that made Gerry feel like he was twelve years old. A long, excruciating moment passed. Realizing his father wasn’t going to give him an answer anytime soon, Gerry racked his brain.

“You’re afraid of something happening to Mabel,” his son said.

His father ate his peach mechanically. Gerry thought some more.

“The Micanopys are all related, and you think that someone might tip this crooked dealer off, and one of his buddies will come after Mabel, just like they came after you that time down in south Florida, and stuck the alligator in your car.”

His father stared at him with simmering eyes. “ Mighttip him off?”

“Come on, Pop. You can’t predict the future.”

“Sure I can.”

“How?”

His father tapped his skull with his finger. “Remember what I told you about the Micanopys? They employ lots of dealers who have criminal records; so do many of the Indian casinos. Hell, some even have ex-cons sitting on their boards. They can’t avoid it, because so many of them get in trouble when they’re young. It sounds like a noble thing for the tribes to be doing, but the fact is, many of these are bad guys.”

“You think this dealer who Mabel’s caught is bad?”

Gerry thought his father was going to hit him. He’d never done that, even as a kid when he’d raised hell, and Gerry had figured it was because his grandfather had whacked his father around pretty good when hewas a kid. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t crossed his father’s mind.

“He’s a god damn thief,” his father said. “ If he catches wind that he’s facing arrest, he’ll do everything he can to keep Mabel from testifying against him.”

“You mean, like hurting her?” Gerry said.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Gerry watched his father take out his cell phone and get the number for the Micanopy casino from information. A minute later, his father was leaving a message on Running Bear’s voice mail. His father could be a world-class jerk when he wanted to, and Gerry listened to him tell Running Bear that if anything happened to Mabel while she was working for the Micanopys, his father was going to hold the chief personally responsible. Gerry tried to imagine Mabel notbeing in their lives. It was an unsettling thought, and he waved the waitress away when she asked if he was hungry.

Chapter 39

Running Bear heard his cell phone ring, but decided to leave it in his pocket. He was standing in the Micanopy casino’s surveillance control room, staring at a pair of monitors. The tribe’s elders were also in the room, as was Mabel Struck.

On one monitor was the crooked poker dealer Mabel had caught dealing a $10,000 hand to a player; on the other monitor, the player himself. They had been watching the two men for an hour, waiting for them to “hook up” and prove they were working in collusion. While watching the monitors, Running Bear had been smelling his visitor’s perfume, which reminded him of lilacs. He had not grown up around woman, and all his life he’d found their habits a mystery. How did they choose which perfumes to wear, or their hairstyles and clothes? Strange questions for an Indian chief to be asking, yet they’d always fascinated him. Mabel turned to stare at him, and he felt himself blush.

“Don’t you think you’d better answer that?” she asked.

Running Bear removed his cell phone and picked up his lone message. He erased it and hung up. “Your boss is not happy with me,” he said.

Mabel raised her eyebrows. The lights inside the surveillance control room were kept dim to make it easier to watch the monitors, and Running Bear tried to read the expression on her face. A little unhappy, he decided.

“Your boss thinks I have placed you in harm’s way.”

“Is that so?” she said.

“Yes. He’s afraid one of our crooked dealer’s friends might try to hurt you. To be honest, the thought never crossed my mind, but he’s probably right. This is not a safe environment for you. I think I should take you home.”

Mabel crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“But my job isn’t finished.”

“Your safety is more important than this job.”

Her face softened, and she touched his sleeve. “My boss told me that you were in the Special Forces in Vietnam.”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, then I’ll just stick by you, and I’m sure my safety will be fine.”

Running Bear was thankful for the muted light, and looked deeply into Mabel’s face. Growing up in the swamps of the Everglades had made his duty in Vietnam easier than for most soldiers, he supposed. Only that had been a long time ago, and he was not sure how well he’d fare in hand-to-hand combat if such a situation were to present itself. He’d grown old, not that he particularly wanted to tell his visitor that.

“I still would like to take you home when we’re done,” he said.

“ Onlywhen we’re done,” Mabel said.

Money talks.

Mabel had never understood what those two words meant until she’d gone to work for Tony. In the gambling business, it was always about money — who had it, and who was trying to get it.

This was particularly true for cheaters. You did a job, you got paid. There was never any waiting. Which was why Mabel was certain that the crooked poker dealer was going to get his share of the $10,000 from his partner sometime tonight.

Staring at the monitors, she saw the crooked dealer go on break. He bought a pack of smokes at the cigarette machine, then strolled past the casino’s bar. A giant electric guitar hung above the bar area, and patrons were swaying to the hard rock that played at blaring levels.

“Where’s our $10,000 winner?” Mabel asked.

“He’s in the bar,” Running Bear said, pointing at a table. “They just made eye contact. Look, he’s getting up from his seat.”

Mabel smiled to herself. Of course the crooked dealer had made eye contact with the $10,000 winner. That was what crooks and their partners alwaysdid. Running Bear picked up a walkie-talkie, and called the casino’s head of security. Within a few moments, four beefy security guards were following the two men across the casino.