Page 42 of In the Nick of Time
“No time for them now. It’s time to go dancing.”
Before leaving,they’d had to call down to the lobby for Band-Aids. Nick’s blisters weren’t the size of a small island in the Pacific Ocean, but they did look uncomfortable.
“I’ll be fine,” Nick said with the air of a sacrificial virgin. Doug tried not to find it adorable. He failed and decided to ignore it instead.
They’d taken a ride to the club this time and as it was a Friday night, they’d had to wait in line to get in. But once they made it to the door, the bouncer recognized them and they were swept into the back room like real VIPs.
“This is different from the last two times we were here,” Nick whispered in his ear. “And we didn’t get to dance first this time.”
“We either made an impression or someone wants to see us.”
Maybe they’d get to the dance floor later, but Doug wasn’t counting on it.
“Someone who?” Nick asked.
Doug shrugged. “How should I know? Maybe it will be the guy with the porkpie hat.”
“I hope not,” Nick said grimly. “He was creepy.”
“Poker again, Mr. Swanson, or something else tonight?” Ginny asked.
“I think my partner and I would like to sit and have a few drinks first and just watch. Would that be okay?” Doug felt around in his jacket pocket for his phone. “And we were wondering if you’d seen our friend?”
Holding his phone out, Doug showed her the picture of Esther. Ginny was very good; he almost missed the slight widening of her eyes before she shook her head. “No, sorry, Ihaven’t. Have a seat wherever you like and someone will be by for your drink order.”
Ginny rushed off. It was a Friday—almost Saturday—and the place was hopping, but was she moving faster than she needed to? Doug couldn’t be sure.
“I think she did recognize Agent Carroll,” Nick said as he stopped near an empty table. There were no chairs since these were spots to stand and have drinks before placing bets.
“I agree.”
A server they didn’t recognize paused to take their drink order.
“I’m going to need a seven-day cleanse after this assignment,” Nick complained.
Doug ignored the complaint, mostly because he agreed with Nick. Instead, he scanned the room, taking in the gaming area and the patrons. Nothing seemed out of place and he didn’t see anyone wearing an odd hat.
“We need to get into the platinum VIP room again or whatever it is,” Nick said. “It’s probably high stakes poker or something like that tonight. Texas Hold’em, maybe.”
“What do you know about poker?” Doug asked.
“Nothing, but I’ve watched it on TV.”
Doug rolled his eyes.
The server returned with their drinks: a whisky again for Doug and something ridiculously fruity for Nick. It even had an umbrella in it.
“Hey,” Nick said quietly. “Isn’t that our friend, Marvin?”
“What? Marvin who?”
“Velvet Elvis.”
Doug followed the direction Nick indicated with his chin. The door to the third room was being held open by a waitperson and Doug could see—20/10 vision—Velvet Elvis standing on a dais and fiddling with a mic.
“I mean he was alright, but Ace of Clubs material? I don’t know.”
“It does seem a bit odd, but again, this is Vegas and nothing makes sense. Drink up.”
