The December Hunt (Work in Progress)

Part 4: The Blonde (v 1.1)

Rick washed his hands and dried them off with a paper towel, then took out his cell phone and dialed 911. Although he was a detective, he didn't have his handcuffs or his gun on him. He was off-duty, after all. The proper authorities should handle this.

After making the call, he stepped out of the bathroom and looked around for a security guard. None were in sight near the roulette tables, so he checked near the slots. Still unable to find any, he went up to the cashier's desk; but even the cashier's desk was vacant. A little triangle placard placed on the desk informed Rick that the cashier's desk was temporarily closed.

A man in a Hawaiian shirt stepped up next to Rick and grumbled. "Ha, even this one? Is there a single cashier in this building who can cash my chips? I got a plane to catch!"

Rick's eyebrow went up. "You mean you can't find a single cashier in this place?"

"Yeah!" The man replied back. "It's as if they all went on a smoke break at the same time or somethin'. Freakin' unions."

The man looked down at his watch and then took out his phone, wandering off away from Rick as he dialed a number. "Hey, sugar, sorry, but I might miss my flight tonight...What? Of course I woke up on time!...No, I didn't lose my wallet again..." The man wandered out of sight.

Rick took a peek over the counter to see if the cashier was perhaps sleeping under his desk. He wasn't. So Rick did the only thing he could think of: wait for the police to arrive. And while waiting, why not play some more blackjack?

Back at the table, Christmas sweater was winning, and orange-coat-lady was winning even bigger. Phillip was losing. "Ha, I guess the house always wins, don't it?" He said with a grin.

"Excuse me, sir, but would you be a dear and scoot to the left a bit? I'd like to join y'all, if you don't mind," a voice said from behind Phillip. Phillip turned around and was met with a set of cool, sky-blue eyes, which belonged to a somewhat short, twenty-something woman with blonde hair flowing down her head in beach waves. Her blue eyes were complemented by a set of sapphire earrings and a light blue denim jacket, all buttoned up, and her legs were draped in a pair of bell-bottom pants dyed pink. If this was a TV commercial for a soda, she'd probably have a breeze blowing through her hair and cherry red lipstick on, Phillip thought to himself.

"Apologies, miss, but that seat is taken," Phillip said, gesturing to the empty chair to his right. He turned around and pulled out the chair on the far left of the table. "But you're more than welcome to sit here."

She sat down and was dealt two cards. Phillip was dealt his cards next, but before Christmas sweater got his cards, Rick stepped up to the table and pulled back his chair. 

"Hold on, I'm coming in," he said to the dealer. The dealer dealt Rick two cards and then moved on to Christmas sweater and Orange coat. Everyone at the table stared at the bloodstains on Rick's clothes, but they shrugged it off. It was Vegas, after all. Rick leaned over to Phillip and motioned for him to come in closer. 

"Guard in the bathroom, DOA. Suspect's out cold on the bathroom floor, after a bit of elbow grease on my part. The cavalry's coming," Rick whispered to Phillip. 

Phillip's eyes grew wide and he scanned the room, looking for any signs of alarm or shock. "Shouldn't you have cordoned off the bathroom as a crime scene?" Phillip asked, beginning to stand up from the table. Rick put his hand on Phillip's shoulder and sat him back down. 

"Phillip, we're on vacation. And frankly," Rick said as he lowered his voice, "if we make a scene at Bransk's casino, he's more likely to come down to the floor himself."

Phillip shook his head as he sat back down, letting out a deep sigh. 

A smartphone placed on the table started ringing. It belonged to the blonde lady in the denim jacket. She picked it up as the dealer dealt himself his own cards and announced that he was checking for blackjack. Denim jacket answered the call, and the dealer announced that he did not, in fact, have blackjack. 

"So you plan to let some innocent bystander waltz into the bathroom and stumble upon a dead guy and an unconscious murderer?" Phillip whispered under his breath, taking a quick glance at his cards.

"Hey, babe," Denim jacket sang into the phone. "Make it quick, cause I'm about to play some blackjack."

Rick also glanced at his cards and at the other patrons sitting at the table, who weren't paying attention to Rick and Phillip. "Phillip, sometimes you gotta break a few eggs to make an omelette." Rick had a 3 and signaled for a hit. 

"I haven't seen Armando, babe. I think he went to the bathroom. He said it was too hot." Denim jacket continued talking into her phone, crossing her legs.

Phillip had a 16 and signaled for a stay. "What if Bransk doesn't show up at all? What if the murderer wakes up and ends up killing someone else here?" he continued. 

"What? Armando? You can't be serious. That guy's a professional Muay Thai fighter." Denim jacket was now turned away from the table, resting her elbows on her knees. The dealer piped up. 

"Excuse me, miss, your play?" he asked her.

Denim jacket ignored him. "Oh come on, babe, I wanna play some blackjack. Can't it wait fifteen minutes?" Christmas sweater said something angrily in French again. The dealer called out once more, stronger this time. 

"Miss, please, your play. The others are waiting," he said.

"Babe! This is the Red Star Casino! I'd like to at least enjoy it before it gets shut down!" Denim jacket was now raising her voice, and the sing-song tone had started to become a growl. 

The dealer walked out from his post and put his hand on denim jacket's shoulder. "Miss!" he barked, "it is your turn to make play!"

"Oh, forget this," she mumbled, unbuttoning her jacket with her free hand. "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" She turned her head towards the dealer and pulled a submachine gun out from within a holster concealed under the jacket. Before the dealer could even take a step back, she pulled the trigger and fired into his chest and face a slew of bullets. Drops of blood exploded out the front and back of the dealer, and some slot machines behind him were also hit, sending showers of sparks onto the people sitting in front of them. The machine gun rattle made everyone in the casino turn their heads towards the woman, including the other members of the blackjack game. 

Like at the wedding, there was an instant of stunned silence. The lady took the moment to put her phone away and get up onto the blackjack table, standing high above everyone else so that everyone could easily see her. 

"Everyone, the Red Star Casino is now officially closed for the night," she yelled across the floor. "Please take your chips and return to your hotel rooms."

Nobody moved. She raised her gun into the air. Someone yelled, "she's got a gun!"

That made people run.