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One of the women winked at him, and they moved on.
Diesel mashed the payout button and the machine printed a chit for the money. He tucked the chit into my sweatshirt pocket and pulled me off the stool. “Let’s go on a Snuggy hunt.”
“Why is he called Snuggy?”
“He gets into snug places... like bank vaults. Where’s Grandma?”
“Taking a nap in her room.
Briggs is in front of her door standing guard.”
Diesel was holding my hand, walking us through the casino, and I could feel heat radiating up my arm. When the heat hit my shoulder and started to head south, I was going to disengage.
Daffy barked two o’clock and laser beams shot out of his eyes and danced across the casino ceiling. The old folks were lethargic after stuffing themselves at the lunch buffet and barely noticed. The dog barked “Yankee Doodle,” and casino-?wide, people self-?medicated for acid reflux and irritable bowel. The day was already winding down. The senior buses would begin loading at four, and by five, the casino would be a graveyard. At six, the night-?timers would start arriving. They’d drink more and spend more and wear tighter clothes. The men would have more hair and the women would have bigger boobs. Or at least the boobs would sit higher.
“How do you expect to catch Snuggy?” I asked Diesel.
“I thought I’d drag you around the casino for an hour or two hoping to run into him. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll use Grandma as bait.”
We meandered through the rows of slot machines and patrolled the gaming tables... roulette, craps, blackjack. We checked out the bar and the cafe and the shops. We left the hotel and stood on the Boardwalk. A low cloud cover had moved in and the wind had picked up. The ocean was gray and foamy in front of us. Some rollers and choppy waves. No one on the beach. There was some Boardwalk foot traffic, but heads were down and sweatshirts were zipped.
Diesel looked like he belonged here. Sin City behind him and the wild, untamable sea in front of him. I had a hunch I looked like I belonged in Macy’s shoe department.
“Now what?” I said to him.
“Call Briggs and see if Grandma’s up and ready to play.”
“She’s sleeping,” Briggs said, answering on the second ring. “I can hear her snoring. Probably half the hotel can hear her snoring. She sounds like she’s trying to suck her face into her nose. It’s giving me a headache. And I hafta go to the can. I need a break here.”
Diesel and I went back into the hotel and rode the elevator to Grandma’s floor. Randy Briggs took off, and Diesel and I sat on the carpeted floor with our backs to the wall.
“Tell me about Snuggy,” I said to Diesel.
Diesel had one knee bent and one long leg stretched out in front of him. “Snuggy gives me a cramp in my ass. This is the second time I’ve had to chase him down. The first time, I found him in a goat tent halfway up Everest. And I am not an Everest kind of guy. Everest is cold. And when you get tired of looking at rock, you can look at more rock.” Diesel closed his eyes. “I’m more a tropical breezes and palm trees swaying man.”
“What about Trenton? Do you like Trenton?”
“Does it have palm trees?”
“No.”
“There’s your answer,” Diesel said.
“Are you after Snuggy because he stole the money?”
“No. I was after him before that. He stole a horse and was recognized leaving the scene. I was asked to put him on ice until the mess could get cleaned up. Problem is, Snuggy’s like smoke. Hard to hang on to.”
“And he doesn’t want to be put on ice?”
“He claims it’ll interfere with his life’s work.”
“Which is?”
“Apparently, it’s stealing shit,” Diesel said.
“Not many people steal horses these days.”
“Guess he likes horses. He used to be a jockey. He’d win the race by some odd stroke of fate and then fall off the horse after it crossed the finish line. That’s his M.O. He’s unbelievably lucky, but he bungles everything. Yesterday, he stole close to a million dollars from Lou Delvina, got caught on Delvina’s security tape, and managed to leave the money sitting on the curb for your grandmother to find.”
