The next morning Rick called his mechanic.
“Jet’s Automotive.”
“Hey Jet, this is Rick Mills. Tell me the good news.”
“You already know the good news dude, your car is totally fixable. The bad news is that it won’t be ready until tomorrow at five.”
“Jett I’m disappointed, man.”
“I hear you but I have two mechanics out – one sick and one at a funeral in San Francisco. But I can guarantee tomorrow at five – if the mechanics I have left show up.”
Rick called his cousin Ed who told him there was no problem with him keeping the truck for another couple of days. Then he made himself some lunch and watched the news.
Gloria got to the Pechanga Casino at 1pm and got a seat in the two, five game. By 5pm she was ahead $460 and was thinking about her dinner with Rick. The thought was interrupted when she saw Salucci headed for an open seat at the table. She thought about getting up but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She looked at her watch and decided to leave by ten to six. That would give her more than enough time to get to the restaurant.
Gloria had determined that she wouldn’t mention Frank’s semi-successful swindle. Semi-successful because although Frank got the money it was hardly a secret, everyone knew he was cheating. And he didn’t have the money for long, Gloria thought. Thinking of that made her smile.
Gloria mucked the next ten hands in a row, including when she was the small and big blind, because she had nothing and most of the hands were raised. Salucci played two hands: he saw the flop and folded the on first one, and bet all the way through on the second with a big bet on the river. The guy he was up against, a solid player named Bill, believed he was beat and threw away his hand whereupon Salucci turned over his two cards showing four to a straight. He gave a little grimace, looked at Bill, and said, “I guess you should have called, heh?”
“Good bluff, you win the money. And even more important you impressed everyone with how clever and tough you are. Wasn’t that impressive?” Bill said to the table.
A few of Bill’s friends answered sarcastically:
“Very impressive.”
“Really cool.”
“Macho move, macho man.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” said Salucci, but everyone knew he wasn’t. He got up and talked to a floor man for five minutes.
“Don’t let that guy get to you,” said a man next to Bill. “That’s his M.O. – he’s always looking to get under people’s skin.”
“Yeah, well, he’s good at it,” said Bill.
At a quarter to six Gloria got an ace, deuce of spades and called behind the opener. When the action reached Salucci he put in a small raise. The opener and Gloria both called and the dealer burned a card and turned over a queen, five and eight, all spades. Gloria had the best flush possible, and unless a full house or better turned up, she’d finish with the best hand.
The opener checked. Gloria knew her best play was to bet but decided to check and put it in Salucci’s court. Salucci bet sixty dollars, the opener folded and Gloria smooth called. The dealer turned the king of hearts. With the opener gone Gloria was first to act. Time to bet, she pushed out one hundred and twenty. Salucci thought for a minute and called. The dealer turned over the last card, the four of spades.
Gloria bet another one hundred and twenty quickly hoping Salucci would read it as a bluff. She really didn’t think he’d call and he didn’t but before he tossed in his cards he turned over the nine of spades, showing the table that he was folding a nine high flush because he knew Gloria had a higher flush. Gloria thought for a second and decided to twist the knife. It wasn’t professional and it wasn’t her style but the temptation overwhelmed her.
As the dealer pushed her the pot she flipped over the two of spades, put it on the face down ace and put a dollar chip on top for the dealer. She grimaced, looked at Salucci and said, “I guess you should have called, heh?”
There were a couple of laughs, one of them from Bill. “That’s sad,” he said while he shook his head. “Throwing away the best hand like that, and even worse, letting the whole table know about it. Trying to show everyone how smart and disciplined you are, able to lay down a good hand to a better hand only to find out that there was no better hand. Your hand was the winner, or would have been if you called. Wow, that’s got to hurt!”
Bill was looking at Salucci and could see he was getting to him. “And, if that wasn’t enough, it’s the lady that you ripped off yesterday with that bogus straight who pushes you off the pot. Unreal isn’t it? It could have come right out of a movie script.”
Salucci, past his breaking point, jumped out of his seat and would have been on Bill in a matter of seconds if the man seated next to him hadn’t grabbed his belt and trousers and yanked him back into his seat. “Take it easy,” he said to Salucci in a soft voice. “He’s not doing anything to you that you haven’t done to him.”
Salucci sat back in his chair and stared at Bill as the dealer dealt the next hand.
“Deal me out,” Gloria told the dealer as she racked her chips.
Bill laughed and looked at the Salucci. “Bummer,” he said as Gloria and her chips left for the cashier’s cage. “You’re money’s gone.”
“I can always get yours.”
Bill reflected on this for a minute and then said, “Maybe, but I don’t think so. I don’t think this is your day.”
Bill got up, exited the poker room, and walked down to the men’s room. When he was finished he walked out and saw Gloria coming towards him, and in that moment made a decision. When she was a couple of feet away he asked her if he could talk to her.
She stopped walking and said, “Sure.”
“Let’s walk over by the night club,” said Bill.
They walked around to “Silk,” which was closed until nightclubs come alive, and leaned against a rail with their backs toward the poker room door.
“This won’t take long,” said Bill. “I retired from the San Diego Police Department eighteen months ago. When I was on the force it was widely believed that Frank Salucci was a contract killer, a hit man. Of course we couldn’t prove it so we could arrest him. He was in federal prison for something like three years for tax evasion and he’s been out six months. A friend in the department told me they believe he’s back in business.
“He’s not a movie assassin who offs people with a high powered rifle from the top of a skyscraper. He just finds out where the target will be, usually leaving home in the morning or coming home at night, and shoots them. Also he’s a weekend warrior – he’s not doing it full time.
“In any case my advice is to be careful. I wouldn’t give him any more grief at the table, although that was funny as hell.”
“What about you, it seems to me you gave him more grief than I did.”
“I don’t think he’d try and kill an ex-cop because he knows the homicide detectives would work extra hard to find the killer. And because of our history here he’d be a suspect.”
Two hands later Salucci lost $240 when the man who had pulled him back into his seat hit a flush on the river and beat Salucci’s queen high straight that he’d held from the flop. Salucci threw his cards at the dealer, picked up his chips and left. He was pissed off and he didn’t like it. He pissed other people off, they didn’t piss him off. Not when things went according to plan.
On the way down the escalator he saw Gloria sitting at the bar talking to the tall, bald bartender. They talked like they knew each other well, friendly but not like lovers was Salucci’s guess. He was curious so he took a table as far away from the bar as he could. When a cocktail waitress showed up he gave her ten dollars and ordered a bourbon and coke.
Rick Mills rolled by Joe’s Italian Cuisine at 6:30pm and continued up Grand Avenue looking for a parking space, all of which seemed to be filled up with pre-1970 classic cars. They were parked down the side streets as well, the streets blocked t
o regular traffic so the hot rods filled the whole street.
On the sidewalks some of the owners of the classic cars sat in folding chairs and talked about the days when men were men and cars were made in America.
Mills found a parking spot on Second Street and walked back to Grand. A restaurant called Vinz seemed to be doing well, serving lots of guests seated outside at tables separated from the pedestrians by a waist high iron fence. Behind them, doing a brisk business, was a stand selling piazza by the slice. There were food stands here and there on Grand and lots of people out to see the cars. It was fun, Mills thought. Everyone seemed happy.
Rick drifted down Grand toward Joe’s Italian Cuisine. He checked his watch, fifteen minutes to seven, still plenty of time. He stopped and asked one of the car owners why all the classic cars were in downtown Escondido.
“It’s called ‘Cruzin’ Grand’ and it happens every Friday night during the summer.”
“Are people trying to sell them?”
“A few, maybe. Most people are just talking to the other owners and showing their cars. It’s no fun having a cherry ‘57 Chevy if it just sits in the garage.”
It was a couple of minutes before seven when Rick got to Joe’s. Ten yards further down the block a car pulled out of a parking space and seconds later a white Pries pulled up and backed into the spot. Gloria got out and stepped up to the side walk.
“Gloria Hesselgrave” Rick said when he saw her.
“Rick Mills,” said Gloria as she stepped forward and shook Rick’s hand, “my kept man for the evening.” Her eyes widened and her face got red. She put her hand over her mouth and when she removed it she said, “Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that.”
“Whatever you said didn’t sound that bad. Actually I didn’t really hear it.”
Gloria thought about lying but figured he’d catch it somehow. “I said you were my kept man for the evening.”
Rick nodded. “Okay,” he said.
“You know what a kept man is right? It’s a man that a woman takes care of financially and has sex with on a regular basis. Men have mistresses, women have kept men.”
“Sounds like a good gig. When do we start?”
“Let’s keep it in the realm of the imaginary for now. A girl can entertain a harmless fantasy can’t she?”
“Sure, if she wants to,” said Rick with a long face. “But I was getting interested, inspired even.”
Gloria looked at him and thought, he can’t be serious even though he looks serious. Finally Rick grinned at her and she laughed. “I don’t know if you bluff much when you play poker but you should. You could make a believer out of anyone not holding a monster.”
The restaurant was small, four or five tables on each side and a few in the middle. The waiter asked them if they’d like some wine and Gloria had a Chardonnay, Rick a glass of Merlot.
While they looked over the menus Gloria asked, “What do you do for a living Rick?”
“The short answer is I recently finished law school and I’ll take the bar exam the last week of July. If I pass I’ll be a lawyer and then I’ll see if I can make a living at it. In the meantime I drive a tow truck for Ed’s Towing.”
“That’s right, you told me that already. You used the tow truck to extort that money from Frank Salucci.”
“I didn’t extort it, exactly.”
“I know, but it makes me feel good to say it. He stole money from me and you extorted it back.”
“Glad to be a help.”
“How old are you, Rick?”
“Twenty five. How about you?”
“A year younger.”
They sipped their wine until the waiter came and took their order: steak for Rick, salmon for Gloria. They each ordered another glass of wine.
“Oh, I wanted to tell you, I had another run in today with our friend Salucci.”
“Oh really? What happened?”
“I was playing in the same game at the Pechanga this afternoon and about fifteen minutes before I was going to leave he showed up and joined the game. He irritated a few people and won a little but I didn’t get involved in any pots because I had nothing. Then, on the last hand I was going to play, I got an Ace, deuce of spades. There was a little raising and then the flop came, all spades, so I had the ace high flush.”
“Nice.”
“The opener bet sixty and I just called. Salucci called behind me. The next card was a small diamond that couldn’t help anyone. The opener bet sixty again and I raised one hundred and twenty. Salucci thought for a minute and then called. The opener went away. The last card was the queen of spades meaning anyone with a spade had a flush, a good hand that I had beat. I bet one twenty again, trying to make it look like a bluff, but Salucci didn’t call. When he folded he turned over the nine of spades, letting everyone know that he had a flush, but thought I had a higher flush.”
“And you turned over the deuce of spades?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t resist. After that this guy named Bill really got on him to the point where Salucci tried to go after him over the table but this guy next to him, a retired NFL lineman I’ve heard, yanked him back into his seat. I left but it was quite a scene.”
“I can imagine.”
“After I cashed out and left Bill stopped me on the way to the escalator and told me he was retired from the San Diego Police Department. He said it was widely believed throughout the department that Salucci was a contract killer. They couldn’t prove it but during the time that Salucci was in federal prison the type of murders that might be hits went way down.”
“Wow, you think it’s true?”
“Yeah, I do. Bill didn’t strike me as the type to make up stories. On the other hand how could you be a hit man with a car that has ‘Cool Cad’ on the license plates?”
“Good question.”
The food came and the waiter left after telling them to call if they needed anything. The steak and the fish were both good and they spent a few minutes enjoying their food. Gloria was about to say something to Rick when the front door of the restaurant opened. “Oh my God,” she gasped, “I can’t believe it.”
Rather than ask Gloria what she couldn’t believe, Rick turned to see Salucci stride into the restaurant and take a quick scan of the patrons. When he saw Gloria and Rick he waved, came to their table, and took a chair next to Gloria. The waiter approached and Rick held up his hand. “We won’t be needing anything, he’s not staying.”
“Not staying long,” Salucci clarified, “but I would like a bourbon and coke.”
“Any particular bourbon?”
“Knob Creek.”
“Make it Jim Beam,” said Rick, “and put it on a separate bill.”
The waiter nodded and walked off.
Salucci, with a self-satisfied look, said, “I knew you two were working together since the beginning. Everything was too convenient, too many coincidences. I knew it but I didn’t know for sure, you know what I mean? Until I followed little girlie girl here and found her having dinner with the shake down artist.”
“What’s your point, Salucci?” said Rick. “What do you want?”
“Money. I want money back from you and I want my money back from girlie girl here. So we don’t have to do a lot of math, let’s call it $1000 each.”
“And when you don’t get it?”said Gloria.
“Oh, I’ll get it, there’s no doubt about that. But if I don’t get it within three days from the both of you, well, there’ll be some grave consequences.”
“There could be grave consequences for you Frank,” Gloria said through her teeth. “You ever think of that?”
Frank’s eyes widened. He never imagined a woman turning a threat back on him like that. Gloria reached over and picked up Rick’s steak knife with her left hand. With her right she grabbed Salucci’s left leg and pulled it toward her until it hit the side of her chair. In an instant Gloria had the serrated edge of the knife on Saluc
ci’s upper thigh. She pressed down and pulled.
Salucci gasped when the blade cut through his pants leg and skin. Gloria rested the knife flat on his leg near the cut. She kept her palm on the handle, and said, “Do you know the difference between a vein and an artery, Salucci?”
Salucci looked down at the knife on his leg. “I’m bleeding, damn it!”
“It’s not serious, not yet anyway. Now pay attention and this will be over soon, one way or another. A vein is a tubular vessel that carries blood from the capillaries to the heart. An artery carries blood from the heart. The heart pumps that blood out so it moves fast. This knife is right over your femoral artery. If I cut down into your leg, or even stab you in the leg, I’ll cut the femoral artery and your heart will pump out enough blood to kill you in five minutes. Palomar hospital is right up the road. You can just about see it from here but they couldn’t save you. You’ll die right here on the floor of this restaurant.”
From across the table Rick watched Salucci’s face. It was drained of color, as white as aspirin.
“So here is what we’re going to do. We’re not going to pay you any money, not the money you stole and not the money you paid to not have your car towed. You’re not ever going to sit down in a poker game that either of us is playing in, and you will never again call me girlie girl. Now, does that work for you?”
“Yes,” said Salucci just as the waiter put down the bourbon and coke in front of him. He picked it up and drained half of it, waited a second and finished it off.
“I think we’re through here,” said Gloria.
“Yeah,” said Salucci as he took a cloth napkin from the table and pressed it on the cut in his leg. Rick noticed that some of the color had come back to his face and wondered if maybe bourbon and coke did that for you. Salucci looked at Gloria and Rick with cold eyes, trying to burn their features permanently into his memory. “Thanks for the drink. I’m not 100% sure, but I think it was Knob Creek,” he said, before he got up and walked out.
“Well, you’ve got to hand it to him,” said Rick. “Cut, bleeding, worried about his femoral artery, and he still manages to stick us for his drink.”
* * *
Chapter 3