odious odds maker named Numbers Neidermeyer—a devil in a pretty package. Daniel’s wife was collateral damage—she did a swan dive off the top of the Babylon, almost taking me with her. Not that eliminating her from the gene pool was anything to cry over. This particular Glinda was not a good witch. I shoved the memory aside—too pretty a day for such ugly thoughts. The long and the short of it was this: I let Daniel off the hot seat so he could raise his daughter.
So I figured he owed me.
The parking lot was empty except for a particular white 911-S Cabriolet I recognized. Déjà-vu washed over me. A different Sunday not too long ago. As I killed the engine and levered myself out of the car, Daniel turned and looked. He didn’t wave. He did, however, move over, making space on his bench for me.
Gabi swung from the monkey bars, her long dark hair plaited down her back, a smile on her face, which grew when she saw me. “Hi, Lucky!”
“Hey, Cutie. You sure are getting strong.” I watched in amazement as she swung from one rung to the next with ease. If I tried that, both my arms would be torn from their sockets. But being nine was so far in my rearview I couldn’t even see a hazy outline in the distance. And today I didn’t mind that. Each facet of me had been hard won through the years.
Daniel didn’t look up when my shadow blocked his view of the sun. “You’re here about Teddie.” A statement, not a question. His voice hard, unapproachable.
Taking the space next to him, I settled back, then glanced at his profile. Patrician, stoic, chiseled features, he was Italian through-and-through with olive skin, a Roman nose, and carefully styled black hair. Beautiful was an adjective that often accompanied any reference to him. Beauty and a charm often accompanied by a bright smile, which he didn’t bother to waste on me today, had allowed him to cut a wide swath through the double X-chromosome set. To hear tell, he’d more than earned his nickname of Lovie, not something I admired. He’d been married, and promises were promises as far as I was concerned. But, this being Vegas, people like me were in danger of following the Dodo into oblivion.
“Yes, but we’ll get to him in a minute. Were you going to tell me about Irv Gittings?”
He shot me a shocked look, fleeting, but I caught it. “What about him?”
“You know he carries a pretty big grudge.”
“He didn’t make any overt threats. Nobody had any reason to believe he’d come after you.” He swiveled a bit to give me a one-eyed stare, the other eye squinting against the sun behind me. “Are you saying he did?”
“I don’t know. Just running the theories. How’d he get out?”
Daniel turned back to watch his daughter, his hands on his knees. “Good lawyer. Judge Jameson.” He gave me a look that filled in the blanks.
Even I’d heard the rumors of judicial misconduct. Nobody’d caught him in the act, but everyone figured it was a matter of time.
Daniel smiled and clapped when Gabi called to him to watch her flip off the monkey bars. “A stupid technicality—most judges wouldn’t have sprung him. Nothing to do with you. We’ll get him on the retrial.”
“You convicted him once. You can’t take him back to trial.”
“Conviction was overturned. No double jeopardy. We can and will try him again. This time we’ll get him good.”
I too watched Gabi as she climbed and swung with youthful abandon. Did I ever feel that free, that unburdened by life, its expectations, its unfairness, and its disappointments? Having been raised in a whorehouse, I doubted it. Life was pretty real when I was young. Even more so now.
“Who posted bail?”
“You’d have to ask the bonding company, Quick and Easy.” He spat the words.
Oh, joy, the bottom of the barrel of a very bad kettle of
So I figured he owed me.
The parking lot was empty except for a particular white 911-S Cabriolet I recognized. Déjà-vu washed over me. A different Sunday not too long ago. As I killed the engine and levered myself out of the car, Daniel turned and looked. He didn’t wave. He did, however, move over, making space on his bench for me.
Gabi swung from the monkey bars, her long dark hair plaited down her back, a smile on her face, which grew when she saw me. “Hi, Lucky!”
“Hey, Cutie. You sure are getting strong.” I watched in amazement as she swung from one rung to the next with ease. If I tried that, both my arms would be torn from their sockets. But being nine was so far in my rearview I couldn’t even see a hazy outline in the distance. And today I didn’t mind that. Each facet of me had been hard won through the years.
Daniel didn’t look up when my shadow blocked his view of the sun. “You’re here about Teddie.” A statement, not a question. His voice hard, unapproachable.
Taking the space next to him, I settled back, then glanced at his profile. Patrician, stoic, chiseled features, he was Italian through-and-through with olive skin, a Roman nose, and carefully styled black hair. Beautiful was an adjective that often accompanied any reference to him. Beauty and a charm often accompanied by a bright smile, which he didn’t bother to waste on me today, had allowed him to cut a wide swath through the double X-chromosome set. To hear tell, he’d more than earned his nickname of Lovie, not something I admired. He’d been married, and promises were promises as far as I was concerned. But, this being Vegas, people like me were in danger of following the Dodo into oblivion.
“Yes, but we’ll get to him in a minute. Were you going to tell me about Irv Gittings?”
He shot me a shocked look, fleeting, but I caught it. “What about him?”
“You know he carries a pretty big grudge.”
“He didn’t make any overt threats. Nobody had any reason to believe he’d come after you.” He swiveled a bit to give me a one-eyed stare, the other eye squinting against the sun behind me. “Are you saying he did?”
“I don’t know. Just running the theories. How’d he get out?”
Daniel turned back to watch his daughter, his hands on his knees. “Good lawyer. Judge Jameson.” He gave me a look that filled in the blanks.
Even I’d heard the rumors of judicial misconduct. Nobody’d caught him in the act, but everyone figured it was a matter of time.
Daniel smiled and clapped when Gabi called to him to watch her flip off the monkey bars. “A stupid technicality—most judges wouldn’t have sprung him. Nothing to do with you. We’ll get him on the retrial.”
“You convicted him once. You can’t take him back to trial.”
“Conviction was overturned. No double jeopardy. We can and will try him again. This time we’ll get him good.”
I too watched Gabi as she climbed and swung with youthful abandon. Did I ever feel that free, that unburdened by life, its expectations, its unfairness, and its disappointments? Having been raised in a whorehouse, I doubted it. Life was pretty real when I was young. Even more so now.
“Who posted bail?”
“You’d have to ask the bonding company, Quick and Easy.” He spat the words.
Oh, joy, the bottom of the barrel of a very bad kettle of
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