Half a mile from the Bellagio, Anthony Rizzi sipped an Absolut on the rocks laden with Valium and codeine. It was his second drink since coming back up to his room. It was hs fifth drink since they had met in the bar downstairs, played a little craps, and grabbed dinner at the famous Bacchanal.
Niko was down to a black mesh thong and matching bra. Her nipples were hard from the air conditioning. She was anxious for Rizzi to fall asleep. She could feel goose bumps up and down her arms.
She sat on the edge of the bed and leaned forward just enough for Rizzi to touch her breasts with his fingertips. She cooed for him softly.
“You make Niko feel nice,” she said.
Rizzi sipped at his drink again. “You have beautiful tits,” he said.
Niko pulled away as Rizzi leaned toward her. He extended his right arm and lost his balance. He fell forward on the bed.
“Shit,” Niko said.
Rizzi had spilled his drink.
“Watch what you do,” she said, scolding him. “Spill your drink like that.”
She went to the table to pour another. This time she added twice the amount of codeine.
Rizzi was wiping sweat off his head. “How come it’s so hot in here?”
Niko sat on the bed again. She took Rizzi’s face with one hand, guiding his lips to hers. She darted her tongue inside his mouth for him to suck. She held the kiss a long time before slowly pulling back. Then she guided the drink up to his lips and held it for him while he sipped. She tipped the glass up, forcing Rizzi to drink until he gagged on what he couldn’t swallow.
He coughed loud and hard. She waited until he composed himself. She looked into his sleepy eyes and kissed Rizzi again. Then she held the glass up to his lips one more time.
Detectives Gold and Iandolli were close to the Bellagio when they received the emergency call from headquarters. An officer was down. He had been brought to Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center. Gold turned on the siren and maneuvered through traffic as he raced to the hospital.
When they met with the emergency room surgeon who had worked on Donald Gentry, they were told that the patient was stable.
Gold sweated profusely.
“He’s either the luckiest man alive or the unluckiest,” the surgeon said.
The detectives looked to each other.
“He shot a bullet clear through his throat,” the surgeon continued. “He’ll never talk again, but he’ll live. He missed bone and artery by fractions of an inch. It’s amazing there isn’t more damage. His vocal cords were torn to shreds, though. There’s nothing we can do for him there. He’s also got a burn wound on both his lips that appears to be from the barrel of the gun. That might explain why he survived. He probably burned himself and altered the position of the gun just enough to miss killing himself.”
The surgeon showed the two detectives the path of the bullet on his own throat. “The bullet went down and out just above his Adam’s apple.”
“Fuck,” Iandolli said.
“I’m sure you already know about the wife,” the surgeon continued. “DOA. Four shots in the chest.”
Gold stared blankly at the emergency room doors.
“What happened?” the surgeon asked.
Iandolli motioned at the surgeon to leave.
“If you need me, I’ll be around,” the surgeon said. He apologized and headed back inside the emergency room.
“There was nothing anybody could do,” Iandolli told Gold. “You have to know that.”
“I could’ve told her to leave town,” Gold said. “I could’ve told Wilkes to run off with her. I could’ve suggested the department put Gentry on leave.”
“And Mrs. Gentry could’ve went home nights to her husband instead of screwing around with Michael Wilkes,” Iandolli said. “It’s not your fault, Abe. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Poor bastard will be on a suicide watch the rest of his life.”
“Probably.”
“They pick up Wilkes yet?”
“The highway patrol did. He was on his way out of town. At least he was heading that way. His car was packed with his stuff. He had more than ten grand on him.”
“Who has him?” Gold asked.
“Us, right now,” Iandolli said. “But the Feds’ll put up a fight over him soon enough.”
Gold shook his head. “What a joke. We can’t get out of our own way, the good guys.”
“It’s a self-fulfilling nightmare.”
Gold motioned toward the hospital exit. “Why don’t you take off,” he said. “I want to hang around here a while.”
“You gonna be all right?”
“Nothing happened to me.”
“You sure? I can stay, Abe. Talking with these clowns from New York can wait.”
“Go,” Gold said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”