Sheepdogs: Keeping the Wolves at Bay by Gordon Carroll (good books to read for beginners TXT) 📕

bedroom with a king sized bed. There was a suitcase by the walk in closet that was open. Inside were t-shirts, underwear, socks. In the closet hung several giant sized suits. A pack of cigarettes sat on the nightstand by the bed. Tisk-tisk. This was a no smoking casino.

There was a computer desk off to the side with a Dell laptop sitting on it. The top was closed but blinking lights flashed along the lower lip. Wow, Sal with a computer, who’d a thunk?

I opened the Dell and a screensaver of desert cactus glowed into view. After a few seconds icons began popping onto the screen in orderly columns. I’m no computer whiz but I can move a mouse. I double clicked on the hard drive icon and when it opened, clicked on the applications menu. I scanned for accounting programs, and stuff like that, thinking maybe Shane hacked into their accounts or maybe opened a page outlining their illegal gambling practices or a hit on someone or… whatever Mafiosi types did these days. Nothing stood out to me.

I went through every icon on the screen and found nothing I could make heads or tails of that would have anything to do with Shane Franklin.

A leather computer case sat next to the desk. I checked through all the pockets. Inside one I found a loaded snub-nosed .38.

Virus protection?

In the closet I went through everything finding two business cards, a tin of Altoids (hmm curiously strong), a rubber-band, four bullets and a switchblade.

When I walked out of the closet I saw Nick Carlino and two other guys I didn’t know, but who looked real tough standing next to him. To my left was Big Milk Sal. Before I could say anything a fist the size of Italy crashed into my face and all the lights went out.

When I woke up I was sitting in a chair with my hands tied behind my back with zip ties. The room was small and bare except for an overhead fluorescent strip. The walls were concrete, which made me think I was in a basement. There was a metal bucket by my left leg filled with water and Big Milk Sal and Nick Carlino were standing to the side. Nick was holding the five shot Ruger I keep in my ankle holster and looking at it thoughtfully.

I shook my head, trying to clear my vision. “That’s some punch you got there, Sal. I mean I’ve been hit before, but that… whew, I’m still feeling it. How long was I out?”

“About ten minutes,” said Sal, who was holding a towel filled with ice over his knuckles. “You got a hard head.”

I stretched my face trying to see how bad I was hurt. “I’ve heard that before.”

“Why,” asked Nick, stepping closer to me, “is a high priced PI with a gun strapped to his leg, sneaking into one of my guest’s room?”

“You know why, Nick, so why play the game?”

“Show respect,” said Sal, “or I’ll belt ya again.”

I shrugged. “I don’t respect guys who kidnap little girls and torture teenage boys to death.”

Sal stepped up, but stopped when Nick held up a hand. “Leave it go, Sal.” He handed Sal my gun and squatted down in front of me. He steepled his hands in front of his lips. “Why is it that you believe I’m involved with these terrible crimes?”

Something about the way he said it gave me pause. I mean he had me here tied up and helpless. If he wanted to kill me there wasn’t a lot I could do about it. Of course he might just be trying to keep me in the dark until I found the thumb dot, but why keep up the charade?

I decided to tell him and see what happened. So I told him everything. When I was done he continued to stay in that squatting position. I thought his quads and hamstrings had to be getting tired. The guy had good balance.

“You know,” said Nick, “I have twin daughters just about the same age as this girl Amber.” He looked me in the eye and shook his head. “I have nothing to do with any of this. I give you my word.”

That hit me harder than Sal had. Because I absolutely knew he was telling the truth.

“Okay,” I said. “I believe you. But there’s just too much for this to have been coincidence.”

“Yes,” said Nick. “Too much. It was a set up.”

I nodded, feeling sick. “And I fell for it.”

He stood and walked behind me. There was a second of tension on my wrists and then they were free. He closed my tanto knife and handed it to me.

“You’re letting me go?”

“Whoever set you up used me and my casino to do it. I don’t like that. You go take care of this guy.” He handed me his business card. “That has my personal cell phone number on it. You need any help, give me a call.” As I stood up he pointed a finger at me. “You save that little girl.”

33

Okay, so now what? I thought as I drove back from the mountains. I’d wasted a day and a half on a wild goose chase. Or had I? It was possible I just had the wrong casino. After all, if one casino was controlled by the mob, why not the others?

But then I remembered Mr. Spock just before he got back in the limo when he said he was going to take a gamble on me because he’d had me checked out. He was playing with me, setting me up to waste time or maybe get me killed off without him being involved. It almost worked. I rubbed the side of my face where Sal hit me. It felt swollen and sore, but at least there didn’t seem to be any broken bones or permanent injury. Like Sal said, I have a hard head. Thick too. What a sap.

I took out the crumpled traffic ticket