Death On the Flop by Jackie Chance Read Free Book Online Page B

him my friend. Friends are few and far between here. Too many of us just pass through. It’s best to keep things friendly but not make friends.”
    I thought about Shana and how much mileage in life we’d shared and how much that helped when I just needed an ear to listen or a word of advice. Sometimes knowing that she was there was enough. “That seems lonely,” I finally told Spring.
    She shrugged and turned away to help a man hailing her from the other end of the bar.
    I sighed and grabbed the handle of the suitcase, rolling it behind me out of the bar. Of course, I had no idea where I was going. I needed to find the poker tables. At the slot machines, I passed a seventy-something blue-haired woman in a caftan who wore a heavy looking baby sling over her chest. I assumed her grandchildren had left her with babysitting duty. “Sumbitch,” she hissed when the rollers came to rest. Quaint. Maybe it would be Junior’s first word. She reached into the sling, pulled out a handful of quarters and fed another into the machine in front of her. That’s when I realized Junior was a couple hundred dollars in change.
    Okay. I was in the Twilight Zone.
    A couple of rows of slots later, I decided to ask someone where they played poker in this casino. I leaned down to a clean cut young man in a Nebraska Cornhuskers T-shirt. Poised to crank another chance, he looked at me and said, “Yes!”
    I looked behind me. Nobody stood there. I looked at the machine to make sure he hadn’t just won. Two cherries and an orange. I looked back at his eager face. “I, uh, didn’t say anything.”
    “I know, but you are my lucky charm. I haven’t gotten two of any fruit all night. You come up and I got two fruits. Three are bound to be next.” He fed the machine and punched the button. Two apples and a banana. He looked at me desperately as he fed the slot again. “Soon.”
    “I’m looking for the poker tables,” I began.
    The Cornhusker grabbed my wrist. “Please, not yet, I gotta pay off my student loans. I’m gonna hit it. Just stand there for a minute. Please?”
    Feeling extremely stupid, but sorry for the kid, I nodded hastily. He fed the slots, muttering under his breath, for another few minutes. No jackpot. Good. Maybe my lucky charm had worn off and I could go find Ben.
    Just as I was about to melt away, the machine dinged and quarters cascaded out in a roar. Cornhusker grabbed my shoulders, jumping up and down with glee. Then he snatched his backpack off the floor, counting to himself as he swept the money into the pocket.
    “How much did you win?” I asked.
    “Three hundred dollars.”
    “Not bad, how many quarters did you have to put in?”
    “Five hundred . . .”
    Not a bad return on his money, I computed as he continued. “. . . dollars.”
    Ack. He’d lost two hundred dollars and was excited? What was wrong with this picture? He was about to win himself broke feeding that slot. “Good luck,” I said, ignoring his impassioned pleas for me to stay. I stomped off, having to drag the suitcase behind me, no doubt compromising the effect of my elder statesman disgust. I’d have to find the poker tables myself, because I was afraid to get near any more strangers. I wandered past the roulette tables, craps players and dealers whipping up blackjack. I watched them play for a moment and thought of Frank. Intriguing guy, mostly because he was the only male I’d encountered since I’d been in Las Vegas who hadn’t propositioned me. Maybe he was gay. I whacked myself on the head with the heel of my hand. I was as bad as the rest of these freaks.
    “Are you okay?” a male voice behind me asked. Uh-oh. Loaded question. I spun around. A guy about my age in an Armani suit with the body of a gorilla stood there.
    I jammed my hands on my hips. “I’m not interested in getting naked, videos, or strip poker with someone who’s not old enough to drink a margarita.”
    “Are you a hooker?”
    “Didn’t you hear