Page 27 of Billion-Dollar Ransom
But when Rubin saw the same two faces watching him in two different casinos, he knew the other shoe had finally dropped.
Somewhere around four a.m., Rubin slipped out of a side exit and weaved his way through the Fremont Street crowds until he was sure he wasn’t being followed, then he boosted a car from the valet lot at the Plaza and raced all the way down I-15.
He texted Julia their code for “Get the eff out of town”:Fly. Maybe she had already. Maybe she was why Rubin was being followed.
When he pulled onto Whispering Palms Drive, the sun was just starting to come up. He half expected to see black-and-whites parked on his front lawn.
But there was no one. There was still no sign of Julia either—the house was empty. Rubin didn’t care about her, but he was ready to throw up at the idea that she’d stolen his money and made a run for it. Maybe all the way back to Ramiro.
Rubin pulled over his gaming chair, stood on it, pushed aside the panel, and shimmied up into the crawl space.
The money was still there—all of it, as far as he could tell—packed inside a Nike Cortez box. His relief was so profound, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. The worry had all been about nothing.
And then came the pounding at his front door.
“Rubin Padilla! We need you to open upright now!”
CHAPTER 29
Thursday, 6:32 a.m.
RUBIN FROZE. Who had come for him? Did casino security somehow follow him all the way back here? And if so, for what? Rubin hadn’t even pulled off a score that night—the vibes had been way off.
He could grab the shoebox and run for it, but he had no idea what he’d be facing outside. Could be one guy out there. Could be two. Could be twenty. It would be way too easy for a bunch of cops or gangsters to light him up as he tried to scurry toward the airport.
No. The best strategy would be to wait it out, like a bad run of cards. No matter how loud the people at his door knocked and shouted. And yep, they were at it again, calling for him by first and last name. At least two different voices.
“Rubin Padilla! We need to speak with you urgently.”
“Open this door!”
They didn’t announce themselves as LVPD, so they had to be casino security or some other kind of private law. In any case, they had no legal right to enter or they would have done it already.
Then it occurred to Rubin that maybe Julia’s disappearance was not a coincidence.
Maybe she’d decided that Rubin’s lucky streak was coming to an end, and she’d have a better time if she went back to Ramiro. She claimed to hate Tijuana, but maybe he’d set up something sweet for himself down there and she wanted to be part of it.
Maybe she’d told Ramiro about them being together, and Ramiro decided he couldn’t live on the same planet with someone who had been screwing his beloved Julia—even if that someone was his former cellmate.
Rubin was athousand percentsure this was the case when his front door was blasted off its hinges and he heard multiple people’s footsteps below him.
One by one they shouted “Clear!” as they checked out each room.Huh. These weren’t Ramiro’s usual TJ foot soldiers.
Rubin listened hard and tried to count voices, mostly to figure out how screwed he was. He gave up after he realized there were at least three or four different guys down there looking through his shit.
While they searched, Rubin used his foot to slowly,slowwwwwly,slide the ceiling panel back into place, praying none of the people downstairs would look up and see it happening. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes and played dead.
Julia,Rubin thought,if I ever lay eyes on you again, I’m going to make you suffer for this. I don’t care how hot you are.
Below him, the footsteps fell silent. They couldn’t have given up this fast, could they? Rubin pressed his ear against the floor of the crawl space.
And Ramiro, you slimy snake, I’m coming for you next. Forget about Julia. Brothers don’t sic the police or whoever these guys are on each other.
Rubin’s neck muscles strained as he resisted the urge to take another breath. If these guys went quiet, that probably meant they were listening. He sure as hell wasn’t going to give himself away. He’d hold his breath all night long if he had to—
But a loudka-chaksound from right below Rubin’s prone body forced his hand. He gasped. His whole body twitched. Instinctively, he reached out for the Nike box full of his winnings.
Before he could touch it, however, the ceiling beneath him exploded. Everything went dark, and Rubin Padilla didn’t have to play dead anymore.
