“No, this is the place,” Carter insisted while scanning the rundown row of motel rooms strung together. “The exterior may be just a façade, so no one suspects anything. We should check it out.” He cast a look at Bart and nodded to the side of the building. “Bart, you go around back.” He then indicated the far cabin to Detrick. “You check that way, and I’ll check the office.”
While his two muscle-bound friends each went opposite directions, Carter headed for the office on the end. Rather than pick the lock, he firmly shoved his shoulder into the door and easily broke in. The door opened, and thick cobwebs floated downward, indicating no one had been inside the office in years. The motel was a dead end. Carter frowned and turned where he stood on the small, deteriorating porch. His two friends soon returned.
“There’s nothing here,” Bart announced with annoyance. “We should try the other places on the list.”
“Maybe we should check out the casino,” Detrick again suggested. “Have a quick look around.”
“Marco isn’t at the casino,” Carter insisted, clearly irritated. “We have a few other safe houses on the list Vincent gave us. We’ll just go to the next place on the list. He has to be at one of them.”
“Marco has a weakness for the craps tables,” Detrick informed Carter. “We’re here. We should at least check it out.”
“He’s not in the casino,” Carter again announced, this time with a little more insistence. “I’m in charge, remember? We’re not going to the casino. We have other places to look, and we’ve wasted enough time here already.”
§
The casino beside the abandoned motel seemed to have a decent crowd despite only being mid-morning. Banks of colorful, noisy slot machines covered most of the casino floor and along the walls. The center contained dozens of table games crowded with people. Some of the tables were noisy, while others contained patrons steadily losing money. The nearby craps table seemed to have the largest crowd and was alive with excitement. Men and women cheered at another lucky roll of the dice. One man, in particular, had a large stack of chips in front of him. That man was Giovanni’s son, Marco. Marco stood a little over five-foot-ten with an incredibly athletic build. The man in his late-twenties had dark, nearly black hair that was neatly trimmed to the point of perfection. His dark eyes and dark facial stubble gave him the perfect balance of handsome and rugged, making him just about every woman’s dream. He oozed charm and sophistication while his clothes screamed wealth.
The craps dealer placed a large stack of chips in front of Marco after the win. He glanced at the two attractive women on either side of him, who were also excited about his win. Both seemed a little overdressed, considering the time of morning. One was a busty blonde woman with long, wavy hair and a layer of makeup. She wore a red, form-fitting, low-cut dress, revealing a lot of her cleavage and most of her legs. The second woman, a redhead, wore an equally sexy black dress, showcasing her assets as well. Both women seemed compelled to touch Marco’s suit jacket after the win as a form of congratulations.
“I’m feeling lucky this morning,” Marco announced to the dealer, then laughed, “but I’m not about to press it further.” He again eyed both women, seeming to size them up. “How about drinks in my suite? It’s after five somewhere.”
Both women smiled knowingly and seemed eager to cozy up to him.
Marco grinned, then pushed his chips across the table. “Color up,” he announced. He then glanced at both women. “Meet me at the elevators in ten minutes. I’m going to cash out.”
Marco collected his fistful of purple chips and crossed the casino to the cashier cage. Several security guards seemed to be watching Marco, but he didn’t take notice. He approached the cashier cage and set his stack of purple chips on the counter. The woman smiled and started counting out one-hundred-dollar bills. He collected his wad of cash, shoved it in his front pocket, and then left the cage for the elevators. The casino security guards continued to monitor him. One of the guards, a tall, lean man in his mid-thirties, Sims, approached the pit boss standing near the craps table. Despite his expensive suit, Sims was a mostly average man and easily went unnoticed.
“Who was that high roller?” Sims asked.
“Jerry Maxwell,” the pit boss replied. “He’s been coming around the last few days. We comped him one of our suites the last two nights. Won close to fifty grand.”
Sims nodded, satisfied with the answer. “We’ll keep an eye on him,” he announced, then left the pit area. Sims continued off the casino floor while removing his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He pressed a button on his phone and waited a moment. “I found your man. He’s not exactly hiding.” There was a pause. “Don’t worry; he’s not going anywhere for at least an hour, but I’ll keep an eye on him. I want my finder’s fee.” There was another pause. “See you in an hour.” He then disconnected the call.
§
Team three, consisting of Jackie, Zack, and Bogart, headed east of the Colorado Springs airport in Jackie’s helicopter. They flew over what would constitute a small city and headed toward the outskirts of town. From the air, they could see the casino taking up a large parcel of land just on the edge of the town. It looked quite busy for that time of morning. Beyond the bustle of the casino was the dilapidated motel that had been abandoned for years. Given its close proximately to the casino, it seemed surprising that the land hadn’t been utilized for some profitable business or, at the very least, bought by the casino for additional parking. Jackie set the helicopter down on the other side of some trees, concealing the craft from anyone who might be hole up inside the old motel. Jackie, Zack, and Bogart crossed through the woods and staked out the abandoned building from the rear, and then ventured to the front as well. There wasn’t any sign of life coming from the motel.
After watching the place for more than twenty minutes, all three approached the front, remaining out of view of any of the windows. There weren’t any security cameras of any kind. Perhaps they were given bad intel on the motel. It didn’t look anything like a safe house. They approached the motel office with its boarded windows located at the far left end of the string of motel cabins. Zack tried the door and discovered it wasn’t locked. He eyed the door jamb, noted the splintered wood, and then ran his finger along the fresh break. Jackie and Bogart exchanged bewildered looks.
“Okay, this can’t be right,” Bogart remarked. “It has to be a mistake.”
“The door has been recently broken,” Zack informed them, then glanced around. “The wood is freshly splintered. Someone else was here not too long ago.”
“Marco?” Jackie muttered. “Or worse?”
“Let’s find out,” Zack replied.
Zack entered the cobweb-infested office with Jackie only a step behind him. He looked around the small, bland office thick with cobwebs. The cheaply-made front desk, covered in a layer of dust, was falling apart from age and shoddy craftsmanship. There were a few chairs alongside a small counter that possibly contained a coffeemaker once upon a time. Most auto mechanic shops had nicer offices. Jackie remained in the doorway while Bogart stood on the rotting porch and scanned the area surrounding the motel for any unwanted visitors.
“Anything?” Bogart muttered from outside while shaking his head. Obviously, he already knew the answer.
“Cobwebs and spiders,” Jackie muttered from the doorway as she flicked a large spider off her shoulder.
“This was a waste of time,” Bogart remarked. “I think we were played.”
Zack stomped on the floor and listened. Several fat spiders were sent scurrying away from the vibration.
Jackie watched him and appeared curious. “What is it?” she asked.
“From the looks of it, the motel appears to be sitting on a cement slab foundation,” Zack informed her as he approached her and the door. He moved past her and looked around outside at the foundation beyond the porch. “But the floor isn’t solid. It’s hollow beneath.”
“Could there be a crawl space?”
Jackie asked while following Zack off the porch and around the side of the motel office.
Bogart hurried after them.
“No, there wouldn’t be a crawl space with a concrete slab foundation,” Zack informed them.
Zack continued around the back of the building with Jackie and Bogart following. He paused in the back and pointed at the old-fashioned exterior cellar door.
“There also wouldn’t be the need for a cellar door with a concrete slab,” Zack announced. “That means the foundation is fake. Probably created to conceal whatever is beneath the motel.”
As he approached the cellar door, Jackie and Bogart remained on his heels. Zack opened the doors built mostly into the ground and walked down the concrete steps. He reached an old, wooden door, pulled it open, and revealed a thick, steel door with a state-of-the-art, electronic lock on it.
“I’ll be damned,” Jackie announced with some surprise as she stared at the digital keypad.
“How do we get in?” Bogart asked.
“Try the last four digits of Giovanni’s cell phone number,” Jackie insisted. “Sal said we should use Giovanni’s cell phone if we ran into any problems.”
“What’s his number?” Zack asked.
Bogart removed his cell phone and pressed a button. He showed the screen to Zack, who then eyed Bogart.
“Is there a good reason why you have Giovanni’s personal number in your cell phone?” Zack asked somewhat skeptically.
“Sal gave the number to us,” Bogart insisted while staring at him with a strange look. “Did you think I intended to memorize it?”
“Yes.” He then shifted his attention to Jackie. “And this is why I don’t give out my cell phone number,” Zack muttered while shaking his head with disapproval.
“You have a cell phone?” Bogart asked while cocking his head with a stunned look.
Zack punched in the number without responding to the question. The light on the digital pad turned from red to green. Zack turned the handle and pushed open the door. Jackie and Bogart drew their weapons as Zack peered into the room. He entered without drawing his semiautomatic. The basement bunker was set up much like the cave bunker with a living room and kitchen combination, the same style of furniture, entertainment, and exercise equipment. The motel safe house had two bedrooms next to each other and a shared bathroom. Zack checked the first bedroom while Jackie checked the second bedroom. Bogart looked around the kitchen and living room area. There were take-out boxes, some from the casino restaurant, dirty glasses, and a partially empty bottle of expensive whiskey on the counter between the kitchen and living room. Similar take-out boxes and dirty dishes covered the coffee table as well.
“The bed’s been slept in,” Zack announced from the first bedroom. “Some dirty clothes on the floor.”
“Used towels in the bathroom and a toothbrush,” Jackie remarked.
“Judging by the looks of the dirty clothes, whoever has been living here has expensive taste,” Zack called out to her while out of view of Bogart in the living area.
Bogart picked up the bottle of whiskey. “Expensive whiskey, too,” he replied while eyeing the bottle, then set it back down. “It has to be him.”
Jackie appeared from the second bedroom. “The towels in the shared bathroom are dry,” she announced. “He hasn’t been here for at least a day.”
Zack appeared within the bedroom doorway. “His clothes and bag are still here,” he announced to Jackie. “It’s possible he just stepped out.”
“We should notify the others and tell them we found evidence that he was here,” Jackie insisted, then looked around. “He may be somewhere nearby.”
“We should check the casino,” Bogart announced from across the room and indicated the take-out boxes. “A lot of the take-out food came from the casino.”
“We should wait here,” Zack corrected. “He’s coming back.”
“Too much ground to cover in the casino,” Jackie remarked, then gave her brother and Zack a curious look. “If you have every hitman on the West Coast looking for you, why would you go to a casino?”
“They’ve only been looking for him for the last twenty-four hours,” Zack informed her. “Those take-out cartons could be from days ago.”
“If he’s at the casino, he may not even be aware anyone’s looking for him,” Bogart chimed in.
Both eyed Bogart but didn’t seem convinced.
“Think about it,” Bogart continued. “If he’s doing well at the craps table, there aren’t exactly a lot of news stations playing on a casino floor.”
Zack and Jackie then exchanged looks.
Jackie raised her brows. “He does have a good point,” she remarked. Being a former conman himself, her brother had good instincts.
“Then we’re going to the casino?” Bogart asked, seeming a little too eager.
“No, we’re waiting here,” Zack insisted with little emotion. “We’ll lay a trap for him. It’d be best if we took him down in here with no witnesses and no collateral damage. Too many eyes in the sky in a casino. We don’t need every hitman and bounty hunter knowing the faces of the people who have Marco.”
Chapter 19
The bedroom suite within the casino was four-star luxury, from the king-sized bed to the gas fireplace and balcony with a view. The black-out curtains were drawn over the double glass doors to keep out the late morning sun, successfully keeping the bedroom dimly lit. Loud male grunts were matched with female cries of ecstasy and some unladylike profanity. Within the king-sized bed, Marco panted as he collapsed between the two young women. The women immediately moved against him, snuggling the naked man. Both women appeared pleasantly exhausted after their late morning romp.
Marco grinned and managed a tiny laugh. “That was fun,” he announced, then eyed each woman.
“Certainly one of my better mornings,” the first woman teased.
“Mine too,” the second woman added while affectionately running her hand along his chest and abdomen.
“The two of you should come back later tonight,” he insisted, then grinned slyly. “We can take a bubble bath together. The tub’s certainly big enough.”
“You do realize we charge by the hour,” the first woman reminded him, then grinned slyly. “No matter how much fun we have.”
Marco chuckled and caressed their shoulders while they clung to him. “That’s okay,” he replied and seemed moderately humored. “I assure you; I can afford it.”
The women giggled and cozied up to the wealthy man, allowing their hands to caress his bare chest and shoulders. He then glanced at his watch while clinging to the first woman.
“By my estimate, I have another ten minutes left on the clock,” Marco announced, then eyed both women with a moderately devious look. “Do you know what I’d love the two of you to do?”
The second woman chuckled in her throat. “We have a pretty good idea,” she cooed.
“A pillow fight,” Marco announced.
Both women lifted their heads and eyed him with some surprise.
Marco grinned. “Always been a fantasy of mine.”
§
The casino security guard, Sims, stood watch near the elevators and periodically glanced at his watch. It had been almost an hour since Marco and the two women had gone upstairs. He was starting to fidget now, not wanting to lose his finder’s fee. Vincent’s three hired mercenaries entered the hotel lobby, looked around, and spotted Sims near the elevators. They approached him while attempting to keep a low profile.
“Are you Sims?” Carter asked.
The casino security guard nodded. “Yeah, I’m Sims,” he reported.
“Is he still in his suite?” Carter pressed.
“Yes, it’s on the sixth floor,” Sims replied. “Suite 604 at the end of the hall.”
Detrick handed him an envelope. “He better be up there, or we’re taking your head instead of his.”
“He’s still up there,” Sims reported while stuffing the envelope inside his inner j
acket pocket. “Neither of the girls came down yet. I’m sure they’re keeping him busy.” His look then turned stern. “Don’t hurt either of the girls. They’re not involved in any of this.”
“As long as they don’t do anything stupid, they’ll be fine,” Bart reported.
When the elevator doors opened, all three men got in the elevator. Sims was in a hurry to leave and returned to the casino adjacent to the hotel lobby. The casino owner, a short, mousey looking man in an expensive suit, saw him and approached with two large, muscular guards in tow.
“Sims,” the owner announced in a gruff tone, then stopped before him. “We need to locate one of our guests. Find out which room Jerry Maxwell is staying in and then meet us by the elevators.”
Sims tensed slightly at the command then nodded in response. “What’s he done?” he asked in an attempt to stall for time.
“There’s a substantial bounty on the man’s head,” his boss informed him. “We need to get to him before anyone else does.”
“Uh, yeah,” Sims replied and straightened. “Let me check the computer.”
Sims fidgeted as he hurried toward the front desk. Allowing his boss to come between Vincent’s mercenaries and their bounty wasn’t in Sims’s best interest, and he needed to slow his boss’s pursuit.
Once the pillow fight had ended, both women giggled and again cuddled against Marco from either side. He grinned like a schoolboy and held both women in his arms.
“I enjoyed that,” he informed them. “Maybe I’ll get in on that pillow fight later tonight after our bath.” He removed his arms from the women lying on either side of him and sat up. “But, now, the craps table is calling. Feel free to use the shower, but do so on your own dime.”
Marco crawled over the first woman and slipped into his boxers, then pulled on his pants. He removed the wad of cash from his pocket, peeled off a few bills, and set them on the nightstand.
“Take as long as you need,” he informed them. “Show yourselves out when you’re finished.”
The women appeared pleased as they collected their money. They placed the cash in their purses and then headed into the bathroom, taking him up on the shower offer. Marco finished dressing, seeming refreshed and cheerful. When he heard the shower start, his mind wandered a moment. He brushed aside any thoughts of remaining in the suite and headed for the door. He no sooner opened the door when he saw the three intimidating-looking men standing in the doorway. Marco gave them odd looks and attempted a smile.
Witness Protection 9: S.N.A.F.U. Page 14
