Payroll by William James Johnson Chapter 19

A long relaxing soak in a whirlpool, followed by a sumptuous meal in their suite at the Sunset Motel was just what the doctor ordered. They basked in the luxury for which Vegas was famous. The manager bent over backwards to make his Canadian visitors feel welcome, including exchanging five thousand dollars of their money for good old Yankee bucks.
"This is better than I expected," said Rona.
"Don't start putting down roots yet. That guy's gotta deposit our cash, and it'll probably be transferred back to a Canadian bank, and you can bet the serial numbers will set off the alarms."
"You really think so?"
"I'm positive. We'll have ourselves a good rest tonight, and tomorrow we'd better hit the road."
"Ah gee Silky. I was going to try blackjack or craps."
"We'll have plenty of time for fun and games once we get to Mexico. I'd feel better, if you stayed with the money."
"Ah Silky..."
"Please sweety... and put my gun where you can get at it if you have to. I won't be long."
"What are you going to do?"
"First. I'm taking Sandy for a long walk. Give him a chance to do his thing. He's been a real jewel so far."
"Then?..."
"I'm going to ask around, to see if there might be someone who could fly us to LA."
"What about our plane?"
"Forget it...The further we keep away from it the better. I sure as hell don't want to have to produce ownership papers or a pilot's licence The longer we hang around here, the better the chances we may get nailed."
"You're right...I don't mind. I'll stay. I guess I'll have to settle for one of those adult movies. You better watch out though, when you get back, I'm gonna want to do all kinds of weird and wonderful things with you."
He kissed her, enjoying the fragrance of her sweet body. "I won't be long. I promise. Come on Sandy. Let's get some air."
Their room was on ground level, near the end of a long stretch of suites facing main street. Although it was after 10PM, the endless bright lights made it seem like midday. Dazzling moving figures in neon, illuminated fountains, and the sounds of hard rock blaring from one of the nearby discos, swamped the country boy from up north. Even Sandy had become fidgety in all this raucous display of American overkill.
Silky walked towards the rear of the complex, hoping to find a quiet place in the parking area for Sandy to do his thing, but in all directions, the sounds and sights overwhelmed them. The dog decided it wasn't going to get any better, so he made a deposit in a dry area under a giant cactus, the nearest thing he could find to a tree. They returned to their room, having been away about ten minutes.
"Back already?"
"This place is unreal. I'm going out again for about a half hour. I still want to ask around about getting a flight to LA. I just thought I'd better get Sandy back here where he's safe. He doesn't like all the noise either,"
"Okay Sandy, you can stay with me and watch that classic film, 'What The Butler Saw'. Don't be too long."
"About a half hour. See you later."
Entering the front of the Sunset Motel, he passed several slot machines that were being gorged by visitors from all over the country. He could see now why some people referred to Los Vegas, as 'Lost Wages'. The spinning wheels of the one armed bandits never stopped. The noise of machines and excited patrons was really uncomfortable for a guy who had spent the last year living in a small farm house in Saskatchewan, his only companion, a dog who was getting long in the tooth.
He sat on a stool at one of the bars in the large gaming room. There were several of these small bars, strategically placed to service the players.
"Give me a draught."
The bartender pulled the shiny handle and skilfully filled the glass without a foaming head. Sliding a Sunset coaster in front of Silky, he placed the draught beer in the centre of it.
"How much is that?"
"First one's on the house."
"Thanks...ah pal."
"Frank...Frank Conti."
"Here's looking at you Frank," raising his drink.
"Just get here?"
"This afternoon."
"You on that tour bus?"
"No came alone. Always wanted to see if Vegas was like they say."
"It's that, and more. You say you're alone?"
"That's right."
"No one should be alone in Vegas."
"Why's that?"
"This is a fun place. Fun should be shared, know what I mean?"
"Guess you're right."
"So, if you're interested in a real quality companion, I can fix it up for you, know what I mean?"
"Just might take you up on that Frank. She's pretty nice is she?"
"She's prime. Not the kinda girl you usually find around here. Lots of 'em are real douche bags, know what I mean? You get 'em away from the bright lights and outa their makeup, and they look like ten miles of bad road."
"There is something I need Frank, more than a woman right now."
"Just name it."
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"How do you know you can trust anyone?"
"You got any connections with someone who might be able to get me into Mexico without going through customs?"
"Hey!...What is this? You a cop?"
"No way...I'm a guy who's got a great need to get south of the border as soon as I can without any fuss, and I'm willing to pay real good."
"What'd you say your name was?"
"Harry...Harry Horner. I'm in suite 107."
"Look Harry...this kinda thing might take awhile to set up. If I can do somethin' for you, I will. Give me until tomorrow at noon."
"Then you think you can do something to help me?"
"What the hell are bartenders for? Of course I'm gonna try. I like your face, and you said you're willing to trust me. So trust me. Tomorrow at noon."
"Thanks Frank. I really appreciate it."
Silky got off his stool and started for the door.
"You forgot to drink your beer."
"That's okay. I don't drink."
The television was still playing when he returned. Rona and Sandy were both asleep. The dog opened one eye, and seeing it was Silky, went back to sleep. On the screen, he saw a woman in a French maid's costume bent over a chesterfield while the lord of the manor had at her from behind. He flicked off the channel and undressed, dropping his clothes on the floor. Their bed was in the front room of the suite, near the large picture window, its heavy drapes pulled shut. You could still hear the pounding sounds of the rock guitar from the disco across the street.
He got into bed, and Rona lazily threw her arm around him. "That better be you Silky."
"Yeah, it's me. What happened? Our adventures finally get to you?"
"As the man said, 'I'm too pooped to participate.' Must've been all that time in the whirlpool. It sure takes a lot out of you."
"Then have a real good rest. Tomorrow we're gonna split."
"Whatever you say darling."
"Where's my gun?"
"Under your pillow. Why?"
"Just in case. You never know. This is Vegas."
Back in the bar, Frank Conti was talking in a low voice on the telephone.
"The guy's loaded, and he's on the run...Sure I know what I'm talkin' about. I seen lotsa guys on the run, and believe me this guy's into money or drugs. He's desperate. No I'm not kidding. He said he would pay real good. So I figured if he can pay real good, why not take it all, you know what I mean. Yeah...yeah. He's alone. Room 107. Should be easy. Right in front, down at the end. You could be in and out before he knows what hit him. Hey!...Don't forget my cut. Yeah. About three would be a good time. He'll be dead to the world by then... Right. This could be a big one. Good luck."
He hung up the phone and went back to tending bar, unable to wipe the grin from his face. He knew he would get lucky one of these days. He might even treat himself to a bit of the prime stuff he was trying to sell to Silky.
About three in the morning, a black limousine pulled up in front of suite 107. Frank Conti was right about the suggested time for them to act. The action had slowed to a crawl. Most of the visitors had returned to their rooms, hungover and broke. Even the disco had finished for the night. A few overly made-up hustlers still walked back and forth across the entrance to the Sunset Motel, trying desperately to make a score before the last tourist bedded down.
The driver kept the engine running as his partner quietly got out of the car and went to the suite. Slipping a pick into the lock on Silky's door, he worked quickly until he was able to ease the door open. He motioned to his partner to join him. The car engine was left running.
Standing outside the room, they checked their guns. The clicking sound was all Sandy had to hear. As they charged into the room, he let out a fierce bark, leaping at the throat of one of the robbers, who screamed violently. Falling against his partner, he caused him to fire his gun, shattering the mirrored ceiling. Both men were in shock. Frank had assured them he would be alone.
Struggling to his feet, his buddy still fighting with Sandy, he didn't see Silky flying at him from the bed. There was a loud crash as he slammed through the large picture window, trapped in the tangled mass of heavy drapes.
"Quick Rona, grab everything and let's get to hell outa here."
"She ran naked to the limousine, their clothes bundled in her arms. Silky grabbed the suitcase with the money and pulled Sandy off the bleeding thug, who was crouched in a fetal position, his hands held tightly against his head, his face pressed into the shag carpet. His partner was unconscious in the small garden below the picture window.
"Hurry up Sandy. Get in the car."
"What happened Silky?"
"The goddamn bartender must've set us up."
"What do you mean?"
"He said he could help us get to LA."
"And you believed him?"
"I know. Let's face it. I'm stupid sometimes."
"You're not stupid. You're too damn trusting, that's your problem."
"Well he said he would help us and he did."
"How do you mean?"
"We've got wheels haven't we. LA, here we come."
He skidded out of the parking lot in front of the motel and headed southwest. Rona sorted her clothing and began to dress. Silky was still in shorts. Sandy stood on the back seat panting heavily. His ribs stood out with each breath. This kind of excitement was what made him tick.
"What a helluva dog."
"He sure is. You're the greatest Sandy," said Rona, kissing his wet nose.
"So are you sweety. You sure can move when you have to."
"Gotta, if I expect to keep up with my man."
"It's only a few hours to LA. Hopefully we can make it before those thugs get the cops after us."
"After us...? Why would they do that? They were the ones who were trying to knock us over."
"I know. But we're driving their car...without their permission. That's a major felony in this country. The sooner we can ditch it, the better."
"Maybe you should let me drive while you get dressed," said Rona.
"Why don't you dress me while I drive?"
"You're real kinky, you know that."
"You made me what I am today."
They both laughed, as she tried to pull his pants up, one leg at a time. With them still below his knees, Rona reached into his shorts, and caressed him. Then she bent over and put her head on his lap, and began mouthing his swelling through his shorts.
"Gawd!...What a woman. Stop it...before I black out."
"Ah come on Silky. You know how I like it before breakfast."
His head began to spin, the excitement building in his groin until he couldn't resist any longer. What she could do with her tongue should be put down in stone for all lovers to honour. This was a gal who knew how to make a man so hard he thought he was going to burst, and a few minutes later, he was as flaccid as a used condom.
"Ooh!...Rona...Ooh you're driving me crazy."
"Now I'm ready to finish dressing you."
"To hell with that. Let's pull over somewhere. I want to make you feel great too."
"Not now Silky. As you said, we've gotta get to LA before the cops show up. I just wanted to show my man how much I love him."
"You did sweet lady. Boy did you ever."

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