The Juliet by Laura Ellen Scott Read Free Book Online

stories about the Forty-Niners ends with the line, ‘he went out for supplies and was never heard from again.’”
    Scottie said, “My partner likes to make it sound like the desert is some great big Marie Celeste .”
    “Could be, for some,” said Tony. “Just wanted to point out that me, I’m not famous here. You all are. I’m famous in Vegas.”
    “Gotcha,” Rigg said. Compared to his partner, the Indian was pretty slick looking, prepared for the cameras. It was like what housewives always squealed when they spotted Rigg at a grocery store or restaurant: you look just like yourself! Tony Jackpot was the same, a natural unnatural who knew all eyes were on him and liked it that way. He hadn’t won a major poker tourney in two years, but no one cared. Tony was a star.
    Rhys Nash should have been a star, too. He was an amazing athlete, if a little inconsistent, but in every place that Tony was bright and glossy, Rhys Nash was dark and dull. After too many years in Hollywood, Rigg thought about these kinds of things a lot, and he wished he didn’t. It felt womanish.
    “So son, why the hell do they call you Scottie?”
    “Because no one around here knows Wales exists.”
    Rigg raised his glass again. “My former self, Paul Lattanzi, salutes us all. Tony Jackpot, Scottie…what? Do they at least call you Scottie Nash?”
    “Not even. Just Scottie”
    “Damn. Well here’s to us: Tony Jackpot, Rigg Dexon, and Just Scottie. Three men with frankly ridiculous names foisted upon them by the power of the mob.”
    Tony said, “Not unlike the name Death Valley.”
    “Price of fame,” Scottie said, as he wiped down the bar and topped off Rigg’s pint. “So what brings you in this morning, Mr. Dexon?”
    That odd-looking little gal finally came out of the back, her eyes burning holes right through Rigg. He gave her a wink and answered, “Same as anybody. I’m here for the purty flowers.”
    And as soon as he said it, he started to have second thoughts. Did he really want this weird little thing coming up on him? He didn’t have the juice for it, literally. Why can’t I just leave her to these sun-addled dopes ? Every day of Rigg Dexon’s life had been like a B movie, full of cheap lines. He hadn’t needed a script for years now, it all came so naturally. The automatic cowboy.
    Not waiting to gauge the impact of his innuendo, Rigg eased off his stool and stood as tall as he could, directly in the gal’s path. She sure had a queer look in her eye, and it was then he remembered why he’d gone into seclusion in the first place.
    “You’re the Nuggetz Prospector,” she said.
    “I am,” he admitted.
    “And you’re not dead yet.”
     
    * * *
     
    Twenty minutes later, Willie was still talking about cereal, and she wasn’t ready to stop, not even when Tony tried to turn the subject towards Dexon’s classic films, all of which had terrible names like Blood Ride , Sunset Shooter , and Gallows River .
    “I’ve never seen any of those,” she said, prompting an embarrassed look from Scottie.
    Dexon wasn’t bothered in the slightest. In fact, he seemed charmed. “Of course you haven’t, darling. You were just a baby.”
    By now Willie had taken her watch off, laying it upside down on the bar so she wouldn’t see the time. Then, because Tony and Scottie needed an education, she proceeded to recount every detail of the Nuggetzpromotion: Dexon’s face on the box, the commercials, and most importantly, The Juliet.
    “So inside each box of Nuggetzwas a piece of a treasure map,” she said, spreading her hands across the ironwood as if there was a map right in front of her. “And the idea was that you needed to collect as many as possible to make the whole map that, if you read it correctly, would lead you to The Juliet.”
    “It’s a powerful mystery,” Dexon confirmed. “Seizes the imagination and never lets go. ‘Specially when you’re a kiddo.”
    Willie examined him for a moment. He still looked like