Six

I waited close to half an hour with a guard who sat directly across the desk from me, arms crossed over his chest. He never uttered a word and his eyes remained fixated on mine. I was pretty sure he never blinked even once.

I’d really overdone it this time. Maybe I wouldn’t be here, wondering what the hell is gonna happen next, if I’d kept my cool. Attitude check gaining momentum on my to do list.

You really screwed this one up, dumbass!

Finally, another security guard and a man in an expensive business suit entered and dismissed the human gargoyle.

The man in the suit spoke first. “Ma’am, would you please empty the contents of your purse on the table?” The nameplate on his breast pocket identified him as H. Dooley, Chief of Security. I immediately determined he possessed the personality of used toilet tissue after #2.

“Why should I do that? What does that have to do with anything? Isn’t that an illegal search?”

“We just want to make sure you’re not carrying anything illegal. People who act as aggressive as you have are often influenced by drugs, legal and otherwise. Also, after that mass shooting here last year, The Department of Homeland Security has given us permission to check guests’ bags if we feel a legitimate need to do so. Your conduct gives us adequate cause to suspect you pose a danger to other guests. I assure you; it is not an illegal search.”

“You’re not just making all that up? Sounds fishy to me.” I knew better. But I was desperate.

“If you prefer, I can call the police right now. We also have legal authority to hold you until they arrive. You can state your case to them. Your choice, ma’am.”

The last thing I need is police involvement. If the licensing board becomes aware of my actions toward Bishop, my PI license risked suspension. I’ll take my chances with Mr. Wonderful.

I unzipped the clutch purse and turned it upside-down. Two hundred dollars in folded bills were the first escapees, followed by my driver’s license, lipstick, and room key. My PI license and concealed carry license dropped out next. I was too angry to be embarrassed when the tampons escaped.

But it was kind of funny when one of them rolled onto Dooley’s lap. He tried to hide a grimace as he grasped the tampon with the tips of two fingers and his thumb. He dropped it onto the table as though playing a game of hot potato. He wiped his hand on his pant leg.

What the hell? Was he Superman and my tampon kryptonite?  All that and it was still inside its paper wrapper. Doofus!

When the Remington, last item in my clutch, tumbled onto the table top, his eyes dilated as his brows twitched

 Not a good sign.

He picked up my driver’s license and gave it a quick scan.

“Ms. Grace, do you want to tell us what this is all about? An hour ago, you started a disturbance in the Mexican restaurant with Mr. Bishop and then you assaulted him at the craps table. I hope you have a good explanation.”

“Look, I’m a licensed private investigator. The gentleman to whom you refer is the subject of my investigation. His hostile attitude and lack of cooperation required me to use extraordinary means.”

“Mr. Bishop has been a valued guest at our facility for the past several days. If you have a legal issue with him, you need to talk to the police about it.” There was a moment of silence as H. Dooley kept cold, unblinking eyes locked onto mine.

He adjusted his tie. “We have you on cam in both altercations. Stalking is illegal. So is assault. We persuaded Mr. Bishop not to press charges. Otherwise, you’d be talking to the police right now, instead of me. But we still have the authority to turn you over to them. It’s a tempting option.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Also, your actions were not extraordinary, Ms. Grace. I repeat, they were illegal. And I’m sure you know your California concealed carry license is invalid in Nevada. That puts you in direct violation of Nevada state law.” He spoke as though he were reading the nutrition label on the back of a frozen meatloaf dinner after a double dose of Ambien.

“I guess I forgot to check it when I arrived.”

“Given Mr. Bishop’s approval, we’ve come up with an expedient solution to the problem. One that satisfies Mr. Bishop and keeps the police out of the picture. Also, any issues regarding your professional license remain free of jeopardy, and The Players Choice receives no uncomplimentary publicity. Everybody wins.”

“I’m not Einstein material, Mr. Dooley; likewise, I’m no idiot. What’s the catch?”

He almost smiled. “You can go straight to the reception desk and get a full refund of your money. Then you have half an hour to vacate your room.” He checked his watch. “It’s ten-thirty. We’ll meet you at eleven o’clock in the lobby. And if you step foot on any Players Choice property again, we’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

He picked up my Remington. “We’ll return this to you at that time.” He wrote out a receipt for the weapon and handed me a copy. “Don’t be late. We expect your prompt and full cooperation.”

A new achievement—my first time to be kicked out of a Las Vegas Casino. But, what now?

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A Good Chance For Bad Luck  - Main Character List

I will add to the list as the story progresses. Don’t want to

give away too much too early!

Olivia Michelle Grace ------- Rookie PI and millionaire

Alice Milner: -------------- Olivia’s best friend and murder victim

Patsy -------------------- Olivia's fire engine red 1959 Cadillac convertible

Robert Milner: ------------ Alice’s ex and primary suspect in her death

Andy Bishop: -------------- Sabotage suspect at Butler Farms

Ron Matthews: ------------ Olivia’s friend and possible love interest

Linda Sears: -------------- Olivia’s friend and housekeeper

Max Grace: --------------- Olivia’s brother and Kern County Deputy Sheriff

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