back. You take care of business in the room, perfect privacy, and we’re done.”
“The room’s too risky. Security detail might routinely check it just before our friend goes in.”
“Fuck, that’s true.”
“Plus these keys are smart cards. They can be programmed to log the times they’re used. No way to know whether the Wynn does that, but if they do, and someone were to check, it would look strange for the key to have been used to access his room while he was signed in at the gym.”
“Then why not take the key off him when the job’s done and disappear it? Keys get lost all the time, who knows where it’s gone. Anyway, no key, no evidence.”
Silence for a moment. Then Rain said, “That’s true. Still, if I let myself in and a bodyguard shows up for a sweep, the whole op is blown. But now that you’ve got me thinking, the key’s still useful. Do what you said. Call me if you can get the room number. If you can, I’ll call it from a hotel phone. If no one answers, I’ll take a chance on going in, plant one of the wireless cameras, and get out.”
“So we can know when he’s coming and going and then pick him up by the elevators.”
“Exactly. And maybe overhear something about his schedule, too. Better to anticipate him than follow him. I’ll let the others know what’s going on.”
“Understood. Okay, let me see what I can do here. I’ll call you back.”
He clicked off and put the phone back in his pocket. Shorrock had switched to sit-ups, twisting alternately left and right at the apex of each rep. Looked like a warm-up routine of bodyweight calisthenics. Treven took out his room card and undid the Traser watch he was wearing. He walked over to the dumbbell rack, squatted as though to select the one he wanted, and dropped the watch next to the base of the rack. As Shorrock came up, twisting to his left and away from Treven’s position, Treven hefted a dumbbell with his right hand and smoothly swapped the keycards with his left. He moved a few paces away, used the dumbbell to do a tricep stretch for a few moments, then set the weight back in its place and headed out.
The bodyguard was still pacing by the salon and paid Treven no particular notice. Why would he? Treven had come from the gym. The guard had already classified him as harmless. Mistake.
He stopped at the sign-in desk. There was another pretty woman stationed there, a new one whose nametag read Victoria, not the woman who’d signed him in two hours earlier. “Hi,” he said. “I’m going to use the spa now, but if I want to come back later, am I still covered?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Victoria said. “Spa privileges are always applicable for the whole day you’ve paid for them, or else they’re already included in your resort package. But you’re good either way.”
“Terrific,” Treven said. He glanced down at the sign-in sheet. The last entry read, Shorrock . And under room number, 5818 . “Do I have to sign in again?”
“No, sir, you’re fine. Enjoy the facilities. Joshua inside will give you a tour, if you like.”
Treven thanked her and went in. The place was huge and absurdly deluxe—half locker room, half gentleman’s club, all leather and granite and inlaid mosaic tile—and he couldn’t imagine what it must have cost. An attendant—Joshua, from the nametag—came over and asked him if he needed anything, a tour, instructions, recommendations. Treven told him he was fine and the man moved discreetly off.
Treven took out the phone, sat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs, and called Rain. “Got the key,” he said quietly. “Room 5818. Repeat: 5818. I’m in the spa.”
“Good. My partner’s on the way.”
Treven clicked off and tried to look like he was relaxing. Three minutes later, Dox walked in. “Hot damn,” he exclaimed, the hick accent especially thick. “Have you ever seen anything like this? I swear, I love Las Vegas!”
Treven winced inside. There was something to be
“The room’s too risky. Security detail might routinely check it just before our friend goes in.”
“Fuck, that’s true.”
“Plus these keys are smart cards. They can be programmed to log the times they’re used. No way to know whether the Wynn does that, but if they do, and someone were to check, it would look strange for the key to have been used to access his room while he was signed in at the gym.”
“Then why not take the key off him when the job’s done and disappear it? Keys get lost all the time, who knows where it’s gone. Anyway, no key, no evidence.”
Silence for a moment. Then Rain said, “That’s true. Still, if I let myself in and a bodyguard shows up for a sweep, the whole op is blown. But now that you’ve got me thinking, the key’s still useful. Do what you said. Call me if you can get the room number. If you can, I’ll call it from a hotel phone. If no one answers, I’ll take a chance on going in, plant one of the wireless cameras, and get out.”
“So we can know when he’s coming and going and then pick him up by the elevators.”
“Exactly. And maybe overhear something about his schedule, too. Better to anticipate him than follow him. I’ll let the others know what’s going on.”
“Understood. Okay, let me see what I can do here. I’ll call you back.”
He clicked off and put the phone back in his pocket. Shorrock had switched to sit-ups, twisting alternately left and right at the apex of each rep. Looked like a warm-up routine of bodyweight calisthenics. Treven took out his room card and undid the Traser watch he was wearing. He walked over to the dumbbell rack, squatted as though to select the one he wanted, and dropped the watch next to the base of the rack. As Shorrock came up, twisting to his left and away from Treven’s position, Treven hefted a dumbbell with his right hand and smoothly swapped the keycards with his left. He moved a few paces away, used the dumbbell to do a tricep stretch for a few moments, then set the weight back in its place and headed out.
The bodyguard was still pacing by the salon and paid Treven no particular notice. Why would he? Treven had come from the gym. The guard had already classified him as harmless. Mistake.
He stopped at the sign-in desk. There was another pretty woman stationed there, a new one whose nametag read Victoria, not the woman who’d signed him in two hours earlier. “Hi,” he said. “I’m going to use the spa now, but if I want to come back later, am I still covered?”
“Absolutely, sir,” Victoria said. “Spa privileges are always applicable for the whole day you’ve paid for them, or else they’re already included in your resort package. But you’re good either way.”
“Terrific,” Treven said. He glanced down at the sign-in sheet. The last entry read, Shorrock . And under room number, 5818 . “Do I have to sign in again?”
“No, sir, you’re fine. Enjoy the facilities. Joshua inside will give you a tour, if you like.”
Treven thanked her and went in. The place was huge and absurdly deluxe—half locker room, half gentleman’s club, all leather and granite and inlaid mosaic tile—and he couldn’t imagine what it must have cost. An attendant—Joshua, from the nametag—came over and asked him if he needed anything, a tour, instructions, recommendations. Treven told him he was fine and the man moved discreetly off.
Treven took out the phone, sat in one of the overstuffed leather chairs, and called Rain. “Got the key,” he said quietly. “Room 5818. Repeat: 5818. I’m in the spa.”
“Good. My partner’s on the way.”
Treven clicked off and tried to look like he was relaxing. Three minutes later, Dox walked in. “Hot damn,” he exclaimed, the hick accent especially thick. “Have you ever seen anything like this? I swear, I love Las Vegas!”
Treven winced inside. There was something to be
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