“I think we better have a beer with this story.” I jutted my chin toward a beefy bartender rinsing glasses and pretending not to listen to our conversation.
Byron glanced at him and nodded at me. “Yeah, I could use another beer.”
Todd flagged the bartender, a large, balding man in a cowboy hat, bolo tie, and tweed jacket.
“You the Colonel?” The hat and tie gave him away, but I thought it proper to ask.
He touched his hat. “Y’all staying at the Heartache?”
“Honeymoon suite.” Todd grinned and wrapped his arm around my shoulder for a squeeze.
I offered Todd a sharp glance to cool it with the honeymoon suite stuff and turned my attention to the aging cowboy. I introduced ourselves and added, “Todd’s on his way to Vegas to play in the amateur poker tournament.”
“Vegas, huh?” The Colonel glanced down the bar and motioned to one of the impersonators. “Priscilla, come down here and meet these folks.”
He turned back to us. “Priscilla books some acts for us and sometimes performs here. She’s a crowd favorite. I also know her from making the rounds. She’ll want to meet an amateur on his way to Vegas.”
“You found an Elvis loving drag queen while playing poker? What are the odds?”
“You’re in Memphis, honey.” The Colonel smiled. “We all love Elvis. And the Heartache is known for their specialized acts. Naturally, Priscilla would hang out here.”
“Naturally.” I looked sidelong at Byron, but he was too busy staring at Priscilla to notice.
Priscilla turned from her conversation with a customer to eyeball our group. Her daisy-scattered, towering bouffant nearly scraped the low bar ceiling. Chocolate colored skin gleamed against a white, fringed halter dress that exposed a gravity defying amount of cleavage and killer abs. The skirt ended mid-thigh, exposing Priscilla’s muscular legs before hiding her knee and calf in tall, white Go-Go boots.
“Lord, I love that dress,” I mouthed in prayer, feeling ashamed by my cobbled Christmas creation. The sweater dress did hug my body, but an ironing board showed better curves.
Priscilla caught my stare. “Honey, you could never pull this off. You need something to pour into a dress like this.” She strutted toward our end of the bar and fluttered her falsies at Todd. “That’s why I look so heavenly. I fill it in in all the right places.”
Todd beamed in response.
“Baby doll.” She tipped a finger under Todd’s chin. “You are all kinds of delicious. What are you doing hanging with these country bumpkins? I book shows when I’m not starring in them. We could have an act that will knock folks dead.”
“Never mind that,” said the Colonel, “I just wanted you to meet my new guests, not book new acts. Now Cherry, what’s wrong with the cousin? I saw him crying over his beer.”
Byron looked up from his mug. “I got nailed in a poker scam.”
“Poker scam?” Priscilla curled her lip. “Or just a bad beat story?”
“Just a minute, I want to hear about this,” said the Colonel. “And you should, too, Priscilla. If there’s a scam running around here, it could affect our games.”
“Man-Margaret at the front desk told us you played poker,” I said. “But I’m getting the feeling the law doesn’t look kindly on gambling in Tennessee.”
“That’s why we like to go across the river, honey,” said the Colonel.
“Or play in establishments not known to the law.” Priscilla winked.
“We’ve got the same problem in Georgia,” said Todd.
“I don’t know about that, Todd.” I turned to his cousin. “Let’s hear it, Byron. Was it a scam or did you just lose your shirt? What happened?”
Three
The Door Card
“It started when I got a call from a Mr. Smith with FBN Business Solutions. He was interested in speaking to me about setting up a slew of machines in his office.” Byron studied the Colonel. “I sell business supplies. Copiers, faxes, phones, computers, fire extinguishers. Whatever your office needs, I can provide. Even coffee makers.”
“Thanks, but not a lot of need for business machines in a bar,” he said. “Particularly at the Heartache.”
“Well, I was real excited,” Byron continued. “This would be a big commission and I’ve had a paltry year. I got the call last week. I drove into Memphis to meet Mr. Smith at FBN. Our meeting was scheduled at eleven thirty and because of the long drive, I thought I could take the rest of the day to do some Christmas shopping or visit the track, because I wouldn’t be expected back at the office.”
“Whoa. Or visit the track?” I said.
Byron’s face lit brighter than Rudolph’s nose. “Like the Colonel said, across the river in Arkansas, there’s a greyhound track with gaming that’s real fun. I don’t get there much because Tina doesn’t approve of gambling.”
My mouth zipped into a thin line, but I reminded myself this was not the time to judge. Christmas and all.
“What happened at FBN?” asked Todd.
“I made the sale,” said Byron. “He wanted near everything. The office was new. He said they were just setting up. Something about a satellite office.”
“What does FBN do?”
“Dunno,” said Byron. “I try not to ask too many questions if they’re willing to buy stuff. So we shake hands on the deal and I get out my paperwork when another guy—Bill, I think his name was— sticks his head in Mr. Smith’s office and says, ‘Hey Smith, you want us to cut you in on the action?’ Then he sees me and gets all embarrassed.
“Well, Mr. Smith gets a little heated with him and says, ‘Don’t bother us with your poker game. I’ve got Byron McIntosh here. I’m sure Byron doesn’t even play poker.’ Bill apologizes and backs out the door. But because I want to make a good impression, I say, ‘Sure, I’ve been known to play a game or two.’ Then I compliment Mr. Smith on how nice it is to see a company that lets their employees kick back on their lunch break.”
“Dang,” said Todd, “If I knew you could play poker on the job, I would’ve checked into office work a long time ago.”
“Me and you both, baby,” said Priscilla. “However, the world needs Priscilla in the entertainment industry and not hiding in a stuffy office.”
“So what happened, Byron?” I said, anxious to hurry the story along.
“Mr. Smith said he needs to look over the paperwork and leaves me alone in the room. I’m sitting there twiddling my thumbs. Well, actually playing Hold ‘Em on my phone. But nobody’s taken this long to look at the paperwork. Pretty soon, I’ve got to use the john. So I poke my head out in the hall, don’t see anyone, but hear some guys in the next office. I think, ‘I’ll just ask them where the bathroom is and maybe they’ll know what’s taking Mr. Smith so long.’”
“And they were having a little stud in the break room?” Priscilla smirked. At my look, she amended, “Seven Card Stud.”
“Actually, Omaha Hold’em,” said Byron, “which turns out, is not my game.”
“Obviously, honey,” said Priscilla. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be hearing this story.”
“Don’t feel bad. Was it hi/lo?” Todd groaned at Byron’s nod.
“Why’d you go in there?” I asked.
“Seems that Mr. Smith got an emergency call and had to step out. Forgot about me in the rush. The guys felt bad and invited me to come in and sit in on a hand or two to wait him out. Plus this guy, Joe, needed a stand-in to make a sales call. I know I don’t play like you, Todd, but I know my way around a table good enough. I figured I could make some extra change for Christmas.”
“How many of them were there?” I asked.
“Just five guys including Joe and Bill. Everything is going great. The play is easy. These guys don’t seem to know what they’re doing. I’m cleaning house for Joe.”
Todd groaned again.
“What?” I said.
Instead of answering me, Todd said to the Colonel. “We’re going to need a round of shots with that pitch
er of beer.”
“That bad?” I said.
As Byron nodded, a tear rolled off his cheek and fell into his empty glass.
“Get on with it Byron,” I said. “What happened?”
“Joe comes back and I show him the stack of chips I won. He tells me I played so well, he’ll split the chips. The other guys whine to Joe about their bad luck and how good I am.”
“Byron,” said Todd. “You should know better.”
“I figured them for a bunch of fish. So when they offered to cut me in, I decided to stay. And when Joe returned, he said Mr. Smith called and wouldn’t be back. After all, I was planning on driving across the river to do the same thing against semi-pros. It seemed like a good opportunity. And these guys were fun. Nice, too. Until I lost.”
“How much did they take you for?” asked Todd.
Byron threw back his shot, polishing it off with a deep slurp of beer. “By the end, I lost my bonus and was in the hole pretty deep. I borrowed against the house, so Joe walked me to a bank and I cashed out my savings to pay them back. I didn’t want to lose my sales deal with Mr. Smith by looking like a bad sport.”
Todd shook his head.
“Todd,” exclaimed Byron. “These guys were good. I went from shark to minnow in a few rounds. I couldn’t believe it. Never experienced anything like it.”
“Hard lesson,” I said. “But how did you lose your job?”
“That happened a week ago Wednesday. I figured with the big commission I’d get from FBN’s sale, I’d eat crow to my boss and he could front me some money to cover Christmas. I didn’t tell Tina, of course. Particularly because I used my wedding ring as collateral for borrowing from the house.”
“Those guys let you do that?” I slapped my forehead. “Byron! How could you?”
“I don’t know what happened. I got sucked in. By winning so much, I kept triggering kill hands. The final kill blind is what did me in, but I really thought I had the winning hand.”
“Kill blind?” I turned to Todd.
“They were playing on a limit and Byron’s wins probably brought the pot ten times or so over the largest bet. It’s a way of doubling the stakes, so a player winning on dumb luck doesn’t bet on fool hands.” Todd turned to Byron. “But I guess you weren’t given fool hands?”
“Nope. By the end, we were past double kill blinds. It was like I was on drugs or something. That pile of chips kept growing in front of me. I know I have trouble controlling myself when I get on a roll, but I should have seen it coming.” He shook his head.
“Gentlemen players would have stopped you,” I said.
Priscilla guffawed. “It’s money, girl. You think the other players were going to slow down when Byron kept winning?”
“Was he really winning?” said Todd. “I’ve never seen a game like that.”
“Pretty boy, have you played with the big dogs in Memphis?”
“No.” Todd’s beauteous features reddened. “But I think I could tell if someone were cheating. Sounds like collusion to me. Those guys were working together to draw Byron in.”
“Dang, Byron.” I hugged him. “I’m sure Tina will forgive you if you just fess up.”
“Tina pledged to honor me rich or poor, but you think she’s going to keep that promise when she finds out what happened?” Byron hung his head. His straight hair swung to hide his face. “Tina’s going to pack up the kids and move back to Georgia before you can kiss Todd a Happy New Year.”
“And I’m looking forward to that,” said Todd.
“Never mind us kissing at New Year’s,” I said. “What happened with your boss?”
“Remember I had to leave the contract with Mr. Smith because he left for an emergency?”
“Right, an ‘emergency.’” I made quote signs with my fingers.
“By Thursday, Mr. Smith hadn’t faxed his signature or sent back the contract.”
I slapped my forehead. I needed to stop doing that before I gave myself a permanent hand print.
“So I tried calling all day Thursday and Friday. Nothing. I’m panicking now because my boss is asking me for that contract every fifteen minutes. So this week, I drove back to FBN. Nobody’s there. The door is locked, so I went to the management office. The building manager said nobody’s rented that office in a few months. She showed it to some guy earlier in the week, but not a Mr. Smith, Joe, or a Bill. And definitely no FBN. She finally opened the office to prove it hadn’t been rented, and she was right. The office was empty except for the basic office furniture.”
“I called my boss, reported it, and he fired me.” Byron’s face fell into his hands and his shoulders shook. “Then I called the police anonymously. It’s illegal to gamble in Tennessee, and I was afraid of getting charged. There’s no way to get the money back. And no way to get my wedding ring.”
“Oh, Byron.” I rubbed his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. You were stupid to play poker, but you were conned by professionals. Nobody could have seen that coming.”
Todd grunted and swigged his beer.
“You’re that good, baby?” Priscilla questioned. “You think you could have beaten these guys?”
Todd shrugged. “Don’t see that it matters whether I could or not. Doesn’t change things for Byron. Now he’s broke, lost his job, his wedding ring and his wife, nearly got arrested, and his kids get no Christmas.”
Byron broke into a sob, muffled only by his beer mug.
Over his head, the Colonel and Priscilla exchanged a long look.
Four
The Angle
“How terrible for you, baby.” Priscilla covered Byron’s forearm with a large hand bedecked in glittering cocktail rings. “At Christmas, too.”
The Colonel lifted his hat and scratched his nonexistent hair. “I’ve got a buddy in Mississippi who told me a similar story. Hit and run games all over the area.”
“Any idea who it could be?” I asked.
He shook his head and readjusted his hat.
“We’ve got to do something,” I said. “If not for Byron, for his kids. They’re forever going to associate Christmas with their momma kicking their daddy out of the house.”
Much like memories of my own Christmas past when my Momma took off to God Knows Where after my Daddy passed and leaving me, my sister, and brother to be raised by my grandparents. Celebrating Christmas in Vegas had sounded like a great idea this year.
“I’m desperate here,” said Byron. “Todd, you’re pretty lucky. You think you could put some money down at the track for me and I’ll pay you back when I can?”
“I’m better at cards than picking odds,” said Todd. “Maybe I could try and win some money back for you, though. Colonel, do you think you could get me into some games?”
“That’s a real sad story, Byron.” The Colonel pulled a thin cigar from the inside pocket of his jacket and rolled it between his fingers. He studied Todd for a long moment. “Do you think it’s wise to risk your money, son? Don’t you need it for your Vegas tourney?”
“I don’t think I’ll play well in Vegas knowing I didn’t try to help out Byron. And I don’t know any other way to raise money for him.”
“I could try and sell some sketches for you, Byron,” I said and noticed no one jumped on that idea.
“What d’ya think, Priscilla?” The Colonel and Priscilla shared a quick meeting of the eyeballs.
“Sounds like a good time to me.” Priscilla fluttered her extra-long lashes at Todd. “I’m sure the boys and girls would love to get in on playing an amateur on his way to Vegas.”
The Colonel pointed his cigar at us. “Let me make a few calls. Fact is, Priscilla and I get better odds in the Memphis underground than over in the legal, civilian joints in Arkansas.”
Between sips of beer, Todd’s gaze flickered over the Colonel. “Actually, I think I can win more money in one game with a large pot limit than trying to hit a bunch of tables in a weekend. Any big games tomorrow?”
“Not sure about that.” The Col
onel shifted his gaze to the end of the bar.
“Can you set up a game?” said Todd. “Maybe y’all know some players with deep pockets who’d like a little risk? We could give the house’s cut to Byron.”
The Colonel and Priscilla exchanged a sly smile.
“Honey, we can set you up easy. We know people,” said Priscilla. “Consider it a Christmas gift to your sorry excuse of a cousin.”
“Hey,” said Byron.
“You think you’re good enough to hang with some big dogs?” asked the Colonel. “They’ll think it’s a dream table.”
“I’ll do my best,” said Todd. “Maybe those crooks will show and I can beat them at their own game.”
“We can’t count on it, but just in case, Byron better hang low so they don’t spot him.” The Colonel examined the cigar he rolled between his fingers. “That’d be an interesting development, though. And very risky for you, Todd.”
“Sugar, this sounds all kinds of fun,” said Priscilla. “We’ll split the table charge?”
“No, we give it to Byron to save Christmas,” I said. “I suspect everyone involved wants to spread some good will to men during this season? Even gamblers like y’all?”
Priscilla wandered off to check on her performers and the Colonel snuck to the back to make his calls.
“You were real convincing, Todd. You, too, Byron,” I whispered. “I think they went for it.”
“I just wish the story weren’t true,” sighed Byron. “Now that part is done, I’m going to need more alcohol.”
The lights flashed. The floor show began on the small stage across the room. Byron and I turned on our stools, and Todd slid off his to stand next to me.
“Todd,” I said, relaxing into his shoulder. “If you win a lot of money in Vegas, what will you do?”
Todd twirled my poinsettia necklace around one finger. “Spend it on you, I guess.”
“You have the chance to make some serious cash. Do you want to keep driving a delivery truck in Halo?”
A Christmas Quick Sketch Page 2
