by Diana Stone
“You’re the fastest one for the job. You’re right here, you’re cute, and you have the right clothes. It’s not like it’s Monte Carlo or anything. I think you’ll fit in, perfect.” It sounds like her mind is made up.
“Well.” I could use the money, and it would be doing something good for a woman with a cheating husband. It would be cathartic to catch the bugger.
“Good, you’ll do it. Thank you! How about $1000, and $100 an hour, plus expenses?” She looks at Viv, “I think that’s the going rate.”
Maybe in Napa, but not here.
“I guess I can take a swing by on my way home.” They got me with the $1000 and $100 an hour.
Besides, it might be fun.
11
Chumash Casino
With my pocket full of $100 bills, I set off for the casino. It’s only four miles off the highway. I kept thinking I had nothing to do, so now I have something. I’ve never been gambling—this is a great excuse.
The self-parking garage is several levels high. They built it big enough for major events. This evening I don’t have any trouble parking the truck without pissing anyone off—even though I’m taking up two spaces.
I fluff my hair, apply a coat of lipstick, and put half the money in the console. I’ll get some quarters somewhere, wherever the chip and change place is.
I take a final look at the photo of the average-looking Tony and then hide it in a file within a file on my phone. I can also see him on Facebook, but then it would show a search if he checked. I don’t see it going that far, but who knows. Maybe we’ll become Facebook friends?
I look on the Chumash website, and holy moly, it’s a big place. It’s late in the day, so they won’t be at the pool. Maybe it’s too early for dinner? What if they stay in their room all night and get room service? There are so many places they could be.
Enough procrastinating, here goes…
The first thing is to remember where I’m parked. I take a photo of the third level and area, then step into the elevator and go down one stop. The back entrance is on the second floor of the casino. I bet the jetsetter and his woman strode in via the grand entry from a limo.
Alright, I’m going in!
I took a screen shot of their casino map so I know where I’m going. I’m entering through the south-east entrance. But once inside, I have to find my landmarks. They’re deliberately making this timeless, and seamless, so people will keep putting coins in slots, spinning the wheel, or adding cards to total 21. I pass by a food court and a café and note where I am. The high rollers club has a door to segregate it from the people like me who have no idea how to put money in a machine.
The noise is ferocious; bells, whistles, and clanging. I guess people like it. I’d be tempted to wear ear plugs. At least there aren’t too many smokers. I’ve had my fill at the cigar shop. The air-conditioning system here is just right… not too cold, not too warm. The ladies need to be able to wear slinky dresses without getting chilled and wanting to leave. I think this is a study of how to keep people in the room.
So I’m strolling, and looking for something that grabs my attention. I’m pretending to be what I actually am—new to this and having a little money to play with. I’ve planned out my persona as well.
My first lap around the floor with my eager face proves fruitless.
I’ve checked out the café and food court. Who knows how long I could be here. I may need to make a show of eating several times. I’m hungry right now, but I don’t want pizza or Chinese. I head into the nearly empty café. The menu is different, and have a Cobb salad with egg, blue cheese, and avocado. I go light on the dressing. If I ate a hamburger, I’d be racking up the calories, because I’d have to eat again to make a show of getting around the casino.
While I’m crunching through my iceberg lettuce, I find a ten minute video on how to win at slots. It says the machines have a chip that throws out totally random numbers. I can win, even if someone just won, and left with a pot of gold from that machine. Second, you don’t almost win. If it looks like it would flip over to a full line of cherries… nope, the computer chip already knows you aren’t a winner. They are only making it look like you got close.
The next video is all about progressive machines and not leaving one after racking-up credits. I think this is getting much too detailed. I just want to play. I don’t even have to pretend to be an expert, that’s part of my cover.
My head is spinning with questions. Should I sit closer to the door, so I can win big? There is some thought that the machines pay more by the door, so people see the winner, and get pulled in.
I’m playing with Alyssa’s expense money. If I win, do I have to give it back?
Hello, dummy. You aren’t here to win, you’re here to find Tony and Miss Galore. I can’t even say her first name without cringing—so I won’t.
So I finish my salad and try to enjoy the experience. I’ll see what happens. I can’t go around asking if someone saw them, can I? No, that won’t work.
I sit facing the room, trying to look like I’m enjoying the whole casino experience. Instead of wondering how long I can keep up a perky facade.
I don’t see a coin exchange place, so I do the next best thing… I ask one of the multitudes of workers. I’m directed to the counter where the girl enrolls me in their program, give me $35 of free spins, and tells me I might win a car. I walk away feeling overwhelmed by their process. It’s another world in here.
I stroll up and down the rows, looking at machines like I’m selecting one for its artistry. I find one on the end of an aisle where I can people watch. I take a seat, pull out my card and slide it in the credit card type of slot. This isn’t as easy as it looks. I have to study the instructions that come with it to make this work. It isn’t intuitive.
This machine is called the Ancient Wheel. Each spin sends water buffalo, leopards and rhinos sliding to a stop, but unfortunately not five rhinos in a row. After ten minutes, I’m getting bored. Yes, I’m monitoring the time, and impatiently move on after twenty. I’ll make a show of stretching, take a lap around, and find another machine that might pay.
I know I’m not acting like the usual gamer, but who cares. Tony won’t be monitoring my actions, but the security team is in the special room that analyzes every square inch of the place. I hope I don’t stand out like a problem person who needs investigating.
It’s time to move on. I’ll check the bar, the pool, and the dining room.
And—nothing there. Ugh, come on!
Saying the phrase ‘fast-forward three hours’ doesn’t do justice to my suffering. I’ve put $500 in the machines. I won back $100. I was briefly thrilled, but that emotion has long gone. I have to go back to the cashier to upload more money into my casino card.
Three times, I’ve turned down drink offers from a server. And once from a guy I sat next to, hoping I would look more unobtrusive. He was having way too much fun and wanted me to join in. Nope, nope!
Look—I think it’s him!
He looks like his picture, but she really stands out. Her platinum blonde hair has bangs and is blunt cut at her cheeks. She has bright red lipstick and long black eyelashes. She’s in a short, tight black dress and red, stiletto heels. What a spectacle. She’s clinging to him like he’s wonderful.
Him… he’s well dressed, but looks like he rarely works out, and is not someone I’d think she would be interested in. He’s about 5’6, has a small paunch, and receding hair. He doesn’t look as good as his photo. Maybe he has a great personality?
My eyes follow the couple as they move out of sight. I casually rise, pull out my casino card, and move to where I last saw them. I have no fear of losing her. She stands out a mile away. He, not so much.
They’re at the door to the High Limit room. I pull out my cell and pretend to make a call. I get a few snaps; but they are distant. Darn it, they step through the door and are gone. I can’t get in there. I don’t know how to fake being a big spender. There may be muscle s
tanding around ready to kick me out. Damn it.
I send the pictures to Alyssa, so they have them to examine.
I take a seat at the slots closest to that room, and prepare to spend a lot more money. They could be in there for a long time. I hope they don’t have a bathroom too. If they drink, maybe someone will need to come out to pee. My map indicates toilets in strategic locations—there’s one just outside the room. I don’t think they’d have one inside—would they? The website says this specific room is for discerning guests and has personalized service.
Actually, there is a guard outside the room. I’m sure they call him the concierge, because he’s seated behind the architecturally designed wall and table. He’d stop me in an instant. So I settle down to play, and play, and play… The place is really popular this evening. People are coming and going, and the noise level has increased exponentially. The cigarette smoke is making it look misty, in spite of the great ventilation system. Is today a holiday? Do this many people like to gamble in Santa Ynez? I had no idea.
Hell, come on! I’ve changed slot machines three times, all having good views of the doorway. A bunch of people have gone in the wealthy room for the evening, but no one has come out. An elegant server, dressed in black and white, is carrying a tray at shoulder height. It looks like someone decided to eat. That will probably encourage others to get dinner. Me too, I’m hungry. My salad has long gone.
I don’t dare get up. If I miss them by a few seconds, I’ll never know if they’re still there, or have left. So I am continuing to spin the rhinoceroses, wild horses, and Norsemen. It’s after midnight, then it’s after 1:00, then after 2:00.
At last, here they come! Neither of them look happy. All that emotion they had going in has dwindled to nothing. I don’t have to be a psychic to know they lost. She isn’t hanging on him. She’s letting him stand on his own, while she allows a few inches of space between them. They stop for a few seconds—I think trying to figure out which way to leave.
I pull out my phone, which I’ve had ready for hours, and prepare to click. It’s positioned at chest height, my head is down, and I get two reasonable shots. I have to wait for a man to pass by. I’m still seated, so at least I’m invisible. The place is busy enough to allow me to blend into the background.
He starts walking, and she hurries to catch up. It looks like things have changed.
12
Suits
I grab my casino card and casually follow them.
He dispiritedly trudges out of the casino and down the main stairs. I’m following, but lagging behind a little. I’m waiting to see if my photos are approved by the girls. I think it clearly shows them. Miss Galore is jumping around; she seems happy, though maybe not as much as ten hours ago.
Yes, I’ve been here that long—pressing that darned spin button, while they live it up with the High Rollers.
Maybe I can find out what room they’re staying in?
I follow them to the bank of elevators. There are still crowds of people around. Doesn’t anyone sleep? He just spun around—with his back to the elevators. That’s odd, most people look up at the arrows, waiting for them to ding. He quickly scans both directions. Then bends his head to kiss her. At this angle, I only see his profile. I snap another few shots and send them.
I’m concerned the eye in the sky will see me taking photos and usher me out with a scowl. So far so good. I don’t see men in suits striding toward me in lock-step.
Oh, no! Down the way, two big men in dark suits are approaching. They don’t look friendly. The elevator doors open, Tony and she step in, and I dash in. Whew, I made it.
Oh no, and they did too! At the last second, a black boot appears between the steel doors which bounce back as if startled. These guys look serious. Hell, I’m in trouble. They glare at me with eyebrows pinched tight in the middle. Their unibrows are crinkled up to form a tight line. I feel myself shrinking in stature. Their demeanor is so severe. I have yet to ratchet mine up. All night l felt like a coyote trying to catch the rabbit. Suddenly, I’ve become the rabbit.
Their attention just shifted to Tony and Galore. I feel instant relief when they focus their intensity on them.
They turn their backs to me and really do focus on my rabbits. Huh, I guess they aren’t security guards about to throw me out. This must be far bigger than my photos.
The doors glide open at the 5th floor. We’re standing here. No one is moving. I flash a look to the panel; this the only button lit. It’s glowing 5. No one is exiting. The doors stay open. It seems to think we should get off. There must not be anyone else asking for a ride.
I do something unusual for me. I step into someone else’s business. Someone else who is under the gun. “Our floor?” I step into their space with a fake smile—and that breaks the ice.
“Yes, I forgot,” he has a pained smile. “Please join us for a drink?” he inquires.
“Thanks, I’d love to.” I’m not sure why. Hell, I should be going anywhere but their room. We could all die in there.
The room is down one hall, then a turn down another. The goons are following. If we go inside, the security cameras won’t be filming. I have a brainwave: Don’t go in the room. You’ll die with them.
“Uh, why don’t we get a drink down at the casino? It will be more fun?” I step up closer and hiss, “Safer.”
“You’re right.” He grabs the platinum around her waist and pulls her around, hoping to dash past the suits.
I’m on their heels. I plan on letting them take whatever blows they may receive.
The men block the hall, smiling nastily. “You can run, but you won’t get away. Mr. C wants his money. This is your 3-day warning.” They glare at me and continue walking.
Tony steps up his pace to the elevator. Galore is left to hurry along on her stilettos. I stride after them. The elevator makes them wait. Adrenaline is streaming through my veins. I’m glad I don’t have to pay Mr. C. I bet Tony gambled and lost.
“Honey, what was that about?” Galore whispers.
“Nothing,” he snaps.
“Tony, honey, don’t be like that. I need to know,” she implores.
“I’m sorry, Doll. I have business dealings with their boss. It’s not going so well.”
“Do you owe him money?”
He hesitates, “Yes. Some.”
“But you won a lot tonight. You can give them that.”
“I need much more than that,” he sounds desperate.
“Oh. That’s a lot,” she exclaims. “Did you lose at the table?”
He looks at me, hesitating.
“It’s alright, I’ve lost before,” I try to calm him so he’ll keep talking.
He looks back to her, “I lost big in Reno.”
“So that’s why we didn’t go there!” The light dawns on her.
“Yeah.”
The arrow flashes, and the doors slide open. The elevator has one other person and he looks harmless.
The three of us enter the lobby.
“We’re getting out of here, now.” His voice shakes. He coughs to cover it.
I know the feeling of adrenaline. I have a ton of it because I joined them. I was going to be crushed by an association I had nothing to do with. At least they weren’t here to kill him, only warn him.
“My things are in the room,” Galore puts out her hand to stop him, seeming to recover faster than the man.
“Jesus, it doesn’t matter,” he growls.
“Honey, I need my bag. We’re not leaving without it,” she insists.
That slows him. He turns to look at her. His face changes and he forces a softer tone. “Sure sweetie, a bellhop can get it.” He looks at me.
Yes, I’ve been following along.
“What are you doing?” He sounds suspicious.
“I don’t know. I’m following you because I—we went through the same thing, together.” That’s my honest answer.
“Get out of here. This doesn’t concern you!” He waves his hand like
I’m an annoying fly.
“Tony, she helped you. At least be courteous.”
“Fine.” He stomps to the desk a few yards away.
This is my opportunity. “Thank you. I’m Monica.” I make up a name and hold out my hand.
She has a strained smile, “I’m Nicole. He’s Tony.” She looks at his back at the front counter.
“Well, I’m glad I could help,” I lower my voice. “I think your husband may be in trouble.”
“Yes. I think so.” She doesn’t bother correcting me. “It was nice meeting you.” She nods and goes to stand next to him.
She wasn’t forthcoming. But I’ll get another photo. Click—their backs together at the counter.
It’s interesting that she’s figuratively and literally standing by her man. Maybe she likes the jet, but I’d end the relationship before he’s tied to a cement block and dropped in the lake.
There’s nothing more I can get from them. I’m exhausted. I’m done for the night. That last hit of adrenaline trickled out, and I’m going home. I send the additional photos to Alyssa and then search for the parking garage.
Except that the elevator scares me. It opens to a silent third level with bright lights showing the way toward the top of the ramp. The tail-end of my truck is sticking out. I’m alert for danger the entire way. I click the door lock open, hop in, lock the door, and get out of there.
I’m fully expecting to be followed, to be stopped, or something worse. But I’m not. The road home is dark and empty.
I’m DONE with following cheating husbands!
13
Quinn
I pull up to the house. I’m pleased to see Nikki has locked the door. She never did, until we had the problem with the guys who were trying to force Jacqueline-Noelle to sell the vineyard. Freddie came to our rescue by taking them out. That was both unexpected and impressive. I wish he’d been around tonight. He’d have known how to handle the situation. I’m tired of fighting alone. It would be nice to have a friend and partner. Where the hell is he?
