The Casino Switcheroo

by Michael P. King

  “I’m not kidding.”

  Max smiled to himself. JB had so many buttons to push. He was going to be easy to manage. The elevator door opened. “Sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”

  “We don’t need to talk. Let’s just fix the toilet.”

  Later, after supper, Max and Kelly Jo, dressed as guests rather than employees, were walking the viewing path through the woods at the back of the island. Up ahead was the rock outcropping with the bench that offered an unobstructed view of the bay. A man and a woman were sitting there, kissing passionately. Max and Kelly Jo walked off the path down a narrow dirt trail and ended up sitting on a boulder, out of sight of the lovebirds. A sailboat was tacking back and forth across the bay.

  “Lulu was right,” Kelly Jo said. “The manager won’t play. So we’re going to work on Cassady.”

  Max peered down the rocky slope to the water. No trail and no beach. “I’m sure you’ll get it done. No way to bring in gear here.”

  “Probably a better spot by the old cabins to the east.”

  “We’ll have to figure out what they’re using them for.”

  “What do you think of JB?”

  “He knows maintenance work, which is a plus. And he must know the computer stuff or Koenig wouldn’t have brought him in. But he’s no grifter. I pissed him off without even trying.”

  “Koenig is paying Lulu to fuck him.”

  Max chuckled. “He thinks they’re in love.”

  “She asked if you were available.”

  He squeezed her hand. “We’re not going to have any trouble keeping them off balance, are we?”

  They heard the couple walking back toward the hotel. “Sounds like they’re ready for round two,” Max said. “Let’s get a view from the top.”

  Up at the bench, they could see over the entire back third of the island. It was all steep, and mostly rocky, although there was a heavily treed section that could be hiding a trail. “Can’t see the cabins from here,” Kelly Jo said.

  “Or the VIP marina.”

  “But it’s got to be down below the trees over there, because there’s the electrical tower.”

  Max gestured at the water in the distance. “You can see any boat crossing from the city to the marina.”

  “Yeah, but I wouldn’t want to get caught up here hoping to escape.” She turned back toward the path. “You ready to go back to the Treasure Cove?”

  “You really do like that old tourist court.”

  “I do. I love all that touristy kitsch down by the old amusement park. Reminds me of the woodsy place we hid out at after the Houston job. Remember all the fun we had there?”

  “I could never forget. But I want to time-off the rent-a-cops first. They should be rounding the gazebo behind the patio restaurant in thirty minutes.”

  “You sure?” She stood up on her toes to kiss him. “I’m feeling a little frisky.”

  He put his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “Give me thirty minutes and I’ll make up the time on the drive.”

  “You think so?”

  “I’ll run every red light.”

  “You’re on.”

  The next day, Max worked second shift, so midmorning he went out to Solomon Island posing as a day gambler: jeans, golf shirt, blue blazer, and panama hat. Once he was through the metal detector at the ferry dock, he bought a coffee at the Caffeination coffee shop next to Island T-Shirts and across the circle drive from the casino hotel. He stopped at a bench, blew on his coffee, and scanned the distance as if he were contemplating his day. A middle-aged man wearing shorts and a short-sleeve shirt came out of the front of the hotel, putting his room keycard in his shirt pocket. Max tossed his coffee into a trashcan, set a course to intercept the man, striding along as if he were late for something. Just as the man rounded a luggage cart, Max banged into the man’s shoulder and lifted his room keycard. “Wow, so sorry. I’ve got to look where I’m going,” he said.

  “No problem,” the man replied.

  The man continued toward the marina. Max slowed his pace and turned toward the vehicle rental kiosk. Just another vacationer. Two men and a woman dressed in hotel uniforms were working at the kiosk, the men standing to one side, the woman inputting something on a computer tablet. He studied them for a moment. He hadn’t seen any of them before.

  He rapped his knuckles on the counter. “How you doing?”

  The woman looked up expectantly. “Yes, sir?”

  “I want to rent a golf cart.”

  “Certainly. Have you got your room keycard?”

  He handed her the man’s keycard.

  She swiped it. “Thank you, Mr. Charles. Do you want that charged to your room?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She handed back the keycard. “Hey, Jimmy, can you pull up a golf cart for Mr. Charles?”

  The younger of the two men nodded and walked off into the parking area. A few minutes later he came back driving a golf cart. “Please stay on the cart paths, sir.”

  “You bet,” Max said.

  He drove down the path along the east side of the island. There were dunes to his left with periodic walking paths that led to the swimming beach. To the right was a narrow savanna that transitioned into the woods that covered the back of the island. A couple of teenagers in swimwear, towels around their necks, rode past him on bikes going back toward the hotel. Beyond the dunes was a group of dilapidated, tin-roofed cabins that were probably the employee housing for the casino back before the hotel and the new ferry. Max pulled his cart off the path and strolled down among the cabins. At the first cabin he came to, the porch leaned severely away from the front wall, one of the windows was boarded up, and the screen door hung off the hinges. He peeked in a dirty window. Old furniture was stacked in the center of the room. The other cabins were more of the same, except some were stacked with boxes, while others contained pieces of equipment that looked like they were being kept for spare parts.

  On the other side of the cabins, the beach was pea gravel right down to a broken-down boat dock. A single light pole stood next to the closest dock post. Max studied the gravel and the hardpacked sand exposed by low tide. No tracks or footprints would show here. At the top of the light pole, he saw a surveillance camera. Was there power? Was the camera working? Was this area the ghost town it appeared to be? Or was that just what any guests who strayed here were supposed to think? Was this the landing place for items that were too sensitive to bring in via the VIP marina? If that was the case, there’d be no surveillance. But if this place was as deserted as it appeared to be, maybe this was the place to land Koenig’s gear, or maybe he and Kelly Jo could board a boat here if they needed to. He could have JB check to see if the surveillance was working and knock it out.

  When he got back to the cart path, a security officer on a moped was stopped by the golf cart. “Hello,” Max said.

  “Hello, sir,” the officer said. “I was wondering if this cart was abandoned.”

  “No, I’m just sightseeing. Taking a break from the casino.”

  “You want to stay on the path, sir. Some of these areas aren’t safe to explore. Derelict buildings, sinkholes, even old blasting caps—it’s just better to stay on the path. You’ll get the best views, too.”

  “Thanks for the info.”

  “You bet.”

  The security officer drove off down the path. Max got back in the golf cart. He continued along the path into the woods, up the low hill to behind the hotel. Families were sitting out at umbrella tables by the pool, eating brunch. To his left was the footpath that led through the woods to the rocky outcropping overlooking the bay. The security officer was standing near the gazebo. Max gave him a nod as he drove by. Down the hill he could see the landscapers’ garages and beyond them the VIP marina with its boat slips. Everything was just as it should be. There were no mob guys in their loud clothes looking vaguely intimidating. The security people, uniform and plainclothes, all seemed completely professional. He followed the path
around to the front of the hotel. In the week he’d been here, he hadn’t seen anything to indicate that the casino was mobbed up.

  He returned the golf cart to the vehicle rental kiosk. The young woman was gone. He went in the service entrance at the side of the hotel, took the stairs down to the basement, and went into the locker room, where he changed into his maintenance uniform. On his way to the maintenance shop, the woman from the kiosk came out of the women’s locker room dressed in her street clothes. She stopped in front of him, a quizzical look on her face. “Have we met?”

  He smiled. “I get that all the time. I look like everybody. I’m Max.”

  “I’m Molly.”

  “See you around, Molly.”

  JB was in the maintenance shop. He had a vacuum cleaner up on a workbench, the bottom open to expose the brush roller and the belt. “You just now getting here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re got five vacuums to service, so pick one up. The tag will tell you what the problem is.”

  “The maids don’t change the belts?”

  “The maids only empty the bag.”

  Max set the nearest vacuum cleaner down on the other workbench. The intake was clogged. “This place seem mobbed up to you?”

  JB looked up. “What are you talking about?”

  “This place is supposed to be a money laundry. We’re supposed to be here to rob the laundry.”

  “Keep your voice down. That’s above my pay grade. The boss knows what he’s doing. He always does. I’ve never been busted and I’ve never been shorted working with him.”

  “I’m just saying—”

  “Don’t make waves. Do your part. Let other folks do their part. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Koenig, Raymond, and Hernandez were sitting at a table away from the stage in the Shoot ’Em Up Gentleman’s Club. The bartenders wore golf shirts, and the waitresses wore tight black T-shirts with tiny skirts and colored panties. The place was two-thirds empty and a second-string dancer was working the pole as if they’d only just been introduced. Hernandez shook the ice in his drink. Raymond gestured to their waitress for another round.

  “You happy with your accommodation?” Koenig asked.

  “It’ll do.”

  “Only neighborhood with Latinos. Didn’t want you to stick out,” Raymond said.

  “Where are you at with your crew?” Koenig continued.

  “Still waiting on two guys. Otherwise, we’re good.”

  “Tell me about the demolition guy.”

  “Ex Special Forces. I’ve worked with him before. And he’s never been arrested.”

  “He’s going to be with you.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  “Your crew will rob the Solomon Island casino.”

  “Don’t they have a private SWAT team on site?”

  “Yes.”

  “So we’re not robbing the casino. That’s just a diversion. What’s Raymond’s crew doing?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  They stopped talking while the waitress set down their drinks.

  “You haven’t told him yet? You expect me to believe that?” Hernandez asked.

  “I don’t know any more than you,” Raymond said.

  “Rest assured,” Koenig continued. “No matter what happens, you’ll make twenty-five grand. And you’ll know all the details in plenty of time. Other people are in place, making preparation. No one gets to know everything until it’s time. Just make sure that your people can work together under pressure.”

  Two days later, at four in the afternoon, Kelly Jo and Lulu were moving down the employees-only hallway behind the reception counter, heading toward the assistant managers’ offices. They’d been stalking Johnny Cassady, learning the details of his schedule, and now they were ready to act. Lulu unbuttoned the top two buttons on her blouse. “You want to fuck him?”

  “Cassady? Sure,” Kelly Jo replied. “He’s pretty enough. His hands are clean. Why? You want to fuck him?

  “I could do with a change.”

  “Girlfriend, the casino is full of horny men.”

  “I don’t want JB to get jealous. He pouts, gets grouchy. Then I have to turn on the make-up sex. Way too much effort for what he delivers.”

  “Want to work it like the first reel of a porno?”

  “Sounds good.”

  They came around the corner. Johnny Cassady, slim-cut suit and an expensive haircut, was standing in the door to his office. He grinned. “Ladies.”

  Kelly Jo and Lulu gave each other a flirty smile, and then Lulu was on him. She kissed him and pushed him back into his office. Kelly Jo shut the door.

  “Mr. Cassady, I think we’re all off duty at the same time,” Lulu purred.

  “Whoa,” he said, “What’s going on here?”

  Lulu hiked up her skirt. She wasn’t wearing panties. “It’s your lucky day.”

  Cassady glanced at Kelly Jo. She was smiling and nodding. She came around behind him and started pulling his suit coat down his shoulders. He shrugged it off. He put his hands on Lulu’s hips.

  She stepped just out of reach. “Isn’t there a bed in the First Aid office? Hasn’t the nurse practitioner left for the day?”

  “We don’t want to get caught,” he said.

  “Then we better get moving.”

  “Safer here.”

  “But not enough room for both of us.”

  Kelly Jo slipped her hand down the back of his pants. “It’s just a few doors down.”

  His head swiveled from Kelly Jo to Lulu. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Lulu opened the door and glanced down the hall both ways. “All clear.”

  They rushed down the hall, the three of them moving as one. As soon as the First Aid office door shut, JB came out of the supply room across the hall and went into Cassady’s office. He sat down behind the desktop computer, pressed the power button, rubbed his hands together while the screen came up, and hacked his way in. A few moments later, he was scrolling through files. And there it was. Not even encrypted. The room safe master passcode. He took out his phone and speed dialed Max. “You ready?”

  Max was in a fifth-floor room, replacing lightbulbs. “Just a second.” He opened the closet and knelt down in front of the safe. “Go.”

  JB told him the passcode. He pressed the buttons on the keypad of the safe. The safe made its reassuring open sound. “We’re good to go.”

  JB shut down Cassady’s computer, slipped out of the office, and took the stairs to the basement.

  Meanwhile, in the First Aid office, Lulu and Kelly Jo had Cassady on his back on the treatment bed, his shirt open and his pants around his ankles, Lulu riding him like a bronco buster while Kelly Jo kissed him and rubbed his chest. Kelly Jo felt her phone vibrate. She glanced at the screen. Text message from Max. All done.

  She pinched Lulu’s leg to get her attention and then nodded. Lulu nodded back. She finished Cassady and rode hard to her own orgasm. Then she lay on his chest, out of breath, smiling her satisfaction.

  “Oh boy,” Cassady said. “That was crazy.”

  Kelly Jo stepped to the door. “Shush.”

  Cassady glanced over at her. Lulu climbed off him and started buttoning her blouse.

  “I thought I heard someone,” Kelly Jo said.

  Cassady pulled up his pants. “Jesus. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  Cassady and Lulu finished dressing while Kelly Jo pretended to be listening at the door.

  “Ladies,” Cassady said, “that was really something. Maybe we could get together when we have a little more time.”

  Lulu fluffed her hair. “Are you talking dinner before dessert?”

  “Absolutely.” He looked from Lulu to Kelly Jo. “Let’s just keep this on the down low around here.”

  Lulu and Kelly Jo nodded. “Of course,” Kelly Jo said. “None of us needs any workplace drama.”

  “I’m glad you understand.” He opened the door and glanced down the hal
l. “Give me a few minutes’ head start. Just in case someone comes around the corner.”

  He shut the door as he left. Lulu turned to Kelly Jo. “Am I all put together?”

  “You look great.”

  “We’ll tell the guys that you fucked him, if that’s okay.”

  “Fine with me.”

  Lulu looked at the treatment bed. “Should we change the sheet?”

  “No. If the nurse practitioner reports it, it just means we won’t have to fuck Cassady here again.”

  “How incriminating do you think the hallway surveillance camera is going to be?”

  “For us? There’s no reason for management to check it until after the robbery. For him? If they do look back this far, he’s screwed.”

  Then Lulu and Kelly Jo started laughing, their hands over their mouths, laughing so hard that the tears started from their eyes.

  “Oh God,” Lulu said. She blew her nose. “Cassady is one clueless idiot.”

  Kelly Jo blotted the tears from her face. “Glad there are so many of them. Makes our work easier. Let’s get out of here.”

  On Ridgeway Avenue, in a one-story rental house in a suburban neighborhood, Koenig and Raymond walked through the house with the rental agent. It was an open floor plan with a kitchen island separating the kitchen from the living-room dining-room area. A four-chair dining room table sat near the island and two sofas faced a flat screen TV mounted on the living room wall.

  “Is this a quiet neighborhood?” Koenig asked. “The kind of neighborhood where people keep to themselves?”

  The rental agent, a chatty grandma in a fitted suit, smiled. “The neighbors are hardly home.”

  “Let’s see the basement.”

  She led the way. The basement was unfinished concrete with two lightbulbs hanging from the joists and a toilet and sink set in one corner. “Not much to see.”

  They went back upstairs. Koenig looked out the back window, across the backyard to a trampoline in the yard across the way.

  “Oh,” the rental agent said, “that’s a leftover. The kids over there are all in high school now.”

  “We’ll take it,” Koenig said.

  “Fully furnished?”

  “Of course.”