Page 13 of A Week Away
I leaned in and asked “Are you looking for a fare?”
The guy inside was in his twenties, ill-kept, and scrawny. He was trying to hide a joint in one hand, but the smell of the vehicle gave him away.
“Oh yeah, man. You wanna go someplace?”
I glanced around the airport and if there’d been another option I would have taken it. Instead, I pulled out my wallet. Snagged a hundred-dollar bill from the ‘secret’ compartment and held it up so the guy could see it.
“You busy for the next two hours?”
“I am now.”
Cass and I climbed into the backseat. He’d been trying to hand me a bag with aspirin since I’d hung up the phone. I was unhappy about the call and distracted so I hadn’t really noticed. I did now. As I opened the bag I said to the driver, “First we want to go to Hobart’s. You know it?”
As he pulled away from the curb he said, “Yeah. Why you wanna go there, man? It’s a pretty sleazy place.”
“I guess it hasn’t changed much then.”
“Oh yeah, you been before?”
“Yeah. I’ve been here before.”
He shrugged. “You know what you’re doing.”
“We won’t be there long.” I’d gotten a couple of Bayer aspirins out of the metal travel box and popped them in my mouth. I chewed them up and swallowed them. Disgusting, but that’s how much my shoulder hurt.
“So where you from?” our driver asked.
“Out of town,” I said with as much finality as I could muster.
“Oh right… yeah… I’ll just…” He reached over and turned on the radio. The “Macarena” was playing, which was annoying. At that particular moment it seemed to be playing everywhere.
I looked over at Cass. He was staring out the window as the airport slipped away. He was forlorn, as they say. I had to be honest with myself. It wasn’t likely we’d find Gavin, and if we did find him there was no guarantee he’d remember where he got Dom Reilly’s important papers. But the best way to get this forlorn kid to give up would be going on a wild goose chase.
Our driver was singing along to the “Macarena” except he didn’t know the words. It was working my nerves, so I asked, “What’s your name?”
“Spencer.”
“Thanks for driving us Spencer. So you seem like a guy who might be connected. You mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“There aren’t any legal brothels in Reno. Everyone comes here thinking there are, but you have to go out into the boonies. You might find some girls working Hobarts, but they’re not legal so you have to be careful.”
“Thanks. You hear much about where I could get a fake ID?” I asked.
“For your…” He didn’t know what Cass was to me so he stopped. “Um, there’s a bartender named Philly at Hobart’s, he might know.”
“Do you know where I can get a gun?” Cass asked.
“Don’t answer that,” I said. “It’s a joke.”
I stared at Cass during an awkward pause, which was eventually broken by Spencer. “What hotel you staying at? Cause I know people at Circus Circus, you’d like it there. I could maybe get you a discount.”
“Thanks Spencer, we’ll keep that in mind.”
The idea of checking into a hotel and going to sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. The kid wanted a gun. I had to figure out how to dissuade him from killing another human being while at the same time figuring out who that human being might be.
Hobart’s Casino sat in the middle of a large parking lot. There was a half-hearted attempt at a mining theme on the outside with a pick axe and a gold pan above the automatic sliding doors at the front.
“So if you’ll just wait here, Spencer, I won’t be long.” I began to slide the door open but noticed that Cass was scooting over to come with me. “Where do you think you’re going?”
