A Gambler's Secret

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I jolted awake but quickly regretted it when a metallic taste came from my tongue. I rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand, even though I knew it wouldn't work. I looked around the room, sighing in relief as I noted there was no table, no onlookers, and no Jack. Just my bed, desk, and a bunch of books and notes piled into a corner of my room. Faintly, I started to hear buzzing. Instead of checking it out like a wide-awake Michael would do, I brushed it off as my head from waking up so quickly. The noise soon went off. My eyes started to feel heavy again, so I sprawled across my messy bed, covering my head with soft blankets.

Then the buzzing came back; much, much louder. I grabbed the blanket covering my head and slid it off my face. I sat up and grabbed my phone off my bedside desk.

"What?" I grumbled.

"You're not in a very good mood," came the lighthearted reply.

I moved to hang up the phone.

"Hear me out! I have a case for you," Travis quickly stated.

"It's 2 in the morning, it better be good," I told him. There was silence on the other end of the line.

"...It's a missing case," Travis said slowly, sounding like he was trying to find the right words.

"Okay...? Who is it?" I inquired.

"Timothy Longwood, a 30-year-old male. Last seen at...his hotel room," he answered. I lept off my bed, tucked my phone between my ear and shoulder, and sat at my metal desk. I pushed off books from previous cases and pulled out a notebook. The front page was covered in gibberish, so I tore it off and threw it into the trash.

"Mike? Michael? You still there? Michael," I could vaguely hear Travis's voice emitting from my phone.

"Yeah, I'm still here. Timothy Longwood. Right?" I asked, putting him on speaker.

"Right. I'll send you the location. That's all I can really tell you over the phone. The family who asked for you told me not to say much. Something about them thinking that the government is listening to everyone's phones. Or some crazy thing like that. But on the other hand-"

"Don't. Tell me tomorrow. We'll meet at Bob's Gas Station at noon," I told him, running my fingers through my tousled blonde hair.

"You mean later today? Right? Right? You know I'm right. Come on, admit-" I hung up on him.

...

About 6 hours later, I pulled up at the location we agreed to meet at. As I pulled into the parking lot of the gas station I saw Travis walking toward my truck. I unlocked the passenger door and Travis climbed in.
Travis had short, white hair that fell around his ears, he was currently wearing his favorite snow-colored hoodie that had the imprint of a wolf on the back and blue jeans. He was 23 years old and he was about 5'8, about the same height as me. His normally gentle brown eyes were darting anxiously around the truck.

"So, where are we going?" I asked him, pulling out into the busy traffic.

"Um, the...place. Turn left at the first stoplight," he replied hastily.

I hummed in acknowledgment and continued to drive down the street following the orders that Travis would give me every now and then. We did this for about twenty minutes before he told me to pull into a lot. The lot was home to what looked like a palace. It was ginormous and almost all the parking spaces were filled, Travis ended up having to single me to a place that was the closest to the entrance.

"What is this place called again?" I inquired.

"Gambler's Paradise," Travis answered, then went silent when he realized he fell for my trap.