poker table at another casino. “I am as clean as the driven snow.”
“Yeah, tell me another one,” Frelly said, snorting. “You’re so clean, that’s why we got you by the short hairs for twenty long ones.”
“Frelly, did you come by just to annoy me, or do you have something to say? Because if not, I’ll be going.”
Frelly raised his finger and the bartender brought him a cup of coffee. The agent took a careful sip.
“You’re right. This stuff ain’t half bad,” he said. “Okay, we got a tip that we should be expecting trouble. Mafia-type trouble.”
Tanner rolled his eyes.
“But Agent Frelly, we’re in Vegas. Is there gambling here? There is? I’m shocked, shocked, that organized crime wants a piece of it.”
Frelly shook his head. “Once a smartass, always a smartass. No. What I’m asking you now is whether you seen anybody unusual or people shouldn’t be here who could be a part of organized crime.”
The Jersey crew. They weren’t exactly organized, but some of them probably were criminals. More or less.
“So I’m a snitch now?” Tanner asked. When he thought about it, Frelly had just insulted him. “I get paid extra for that.”
Frelly snorted again. “You get paid nothing, like always,” he said. “I’m asking you, as a respon—as an observant member of the general public, have you seen anything that can cause trouble.”
The bartender came by with the coffee pot and refilled their cups. Tanner turned to him.
“Skip, you seen anything that can cause trouble around here?”
The bartender shrugged. “Just that blonde you were with earlier. She looks like big trouble to me.”
Tanner winced. So much for keeping Hope out of it.
“What blonde?” Frelly asked.
“Somebody Tanner here has the hots for,” Skip said obligingly. “But she’s got marriage and kids written all over her. Not our Tanner’s type at all.”
Frelly shrugged, losing interest. “I got a photo.” He reached into his jacket pocket, briefly exposing his sidearm, and pulled out a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and showed it to Tanner and Skip. “You seen this guy? Russian. Goes by the name of Johnny Red.”
Not one of the Jersey crew. Tanner felt his tension fade.
But Skip staggered back in feigned astonishment. “Johnnie Walker Red? We got him right here on our shelf.”
Frelly glared at him and then Tanner. “A bunch of smartasses. This guy’s trying to take over the Jersey action. The office in Newark sent us a tip that he came out here. For business or pleasure is what we’re trying to find out.”
He came out here for Big Julie Saladino, Tanner thought.
“I think he’s coming to take out Big Julie Saladino,” Frelly said. “What are the odds?”
If Johnny Red does take out Big Julie, I won’t have to play cards with the Mob, Tanner thought. Works for me.
“Haven’t seen him,” he said.
“Just my luck,” Frelly said. “I’m two damn weeks from retirement and I got some Jersey goons gonna duke it out on my patch. They couldn’t go to Atlantic City? This is gonna mess up my pension, I can feel it.”
“Well, everybody’s got problems,” Tanner said, edging off the stool. “Gotta run.” Over Frelly’s shoulder Tanner had seen Marty enter the casino and head toward the bar. On his home turf Marty counted most of the police force from Passaic to Piscataway among his friends and beneficiaries. He wouldn’t normally worry about running into one depressed FBI agent. But Marty might not be so relaxed about meeting an FBI agent when they were casing tables for Hope.
“You lemme me know if you spot something,” Frelly called after Tanner as he headed toward Marty.
“Sure thing,” Tanner called back. Marty had stopped, seemingly engrossed in a blackjack table.
“Concierge desk,” Tanner said as he brushed by Marty without stopping. Five minutes later both men stood at the concierge rack, perusing brochures for helicopter flights over Hoover Dam.
“That was Frelly, my FBI shadow,” Tanner said. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to meet him.”
Marty glanced up. “We’re not doing nothing wrong.”
“No. But you’re not on probation.” Tanner looked at him when Marty didn’t respond. “Are you?”
“No. Dammit. Is this going to be a problem? You scoping the tables for Hope? I don’t want her getting into trouble because of you. What did he want?”
“He wanted to know if I’d seen anybody from out of town who could be connected to organized crime.”
Marty the Sneak flinched.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, but he meant somebody named Johnny Red.”
Marty relaxed. “He’s the Russian wants to take over Big Julie’s territory. He’s out