going to tell you. It was a guy I met in Vegas. I was working in a casino there till a few months ago and this guy caught me stealing two $50 chips. I needed it for my rent. I ran. I hitched a ride with a trucker who ended up dropping his load of computers in San Antonio. I got a job at the Menger Bar. That was four months ago. I was doin okay, but this guy, Steve is his name, showed up two days ago, Friday afternoon. He said I had a choice of going under arrest or he pointed out the man you were sitting with. Said he would pay me $1000 to find a way to put the cell phone in his pocket or in his car and that would be it. He'd forget about the chips I took."
"So," Laura said, "you lucked out when I asked you to take that card to Flint."
"I guess. All of a sudden he was gone while I was talking to Steve. I wasn't sure I would be able to find him. I saw how you looked at him. I didn't think you'd let him leave."
"Did you get Steve's thousand?"
"No. I was afraid he'd double cross me. Now I don't have a job, and the Menger didn't pay me for last week cause I'm afraid to go back. Please don't tell the cops. I had to tell the Menger my address. Like an idiot I gave them the real address. I figured Steve would get the address from the bar tender. Your friend gave me a ride back to the Menger, but I was scared so I ran. I grabbed my little suit case and a few toiletries and hitched a ride to Austin.
"Laura looked around them at the well appointed bar. "You picked a stylish place to stay."
"You crazy? I'm not staying here. Friday night a nice looking guy in his twenties gave me a ride in his pickup, bought me supper on 6 th Street and let me stay with him. He lives in Austin."
"So you moved in with him?"
"Oh, no. I left while he was still asleep this morning. He told me that this is the most high class hotel in town. I came down here to sort of eyeball the place, see if maybe I could get a job here."
"Did you?"
"I didn't ask yet. I'm not sure if I am more afraid that I might get the job or that I won't. I'm wearing the only nice outfit I have."
"Where will you sleep tonight?" Laura asked.
"No idea. Maybe I will get a job here and the bartender might get me a key to an unused room just for one night."
"You ever done that?'
"Once, when I was eighteen. The night clerk in a nice hotel in Pittsburg let me use an empty room. Turned out he wanted me to earn it, you know, with sex."
"Was it worth it?" Laura wondered.
"Yeah. Not very satisfying, but it didn't take long and I did have a place to sleep."
"You have two arrests for prostitution on your Vegas rap sheet. What about that," Laura inquired.
"No convictions. The cops like to roust new girls in town. There are always young babes, like I was, running from somewhere and dreaming of rolling in money. The pay's not that great. Casinos don't want girls distracting guys; they want guys playing till they lose it all. Depressed broke guys aren't worth much to a girl."
"Does Steve have a last name?" Laura wondered.
"Stevenson Karbouski. Don't know if it's his real name."
"Description?"
"Thinning black hair, brown eyes, five feet maybe six or seven inches, thirty pounds overweight, very white even teeth. He likes black pants and silk shirts and his pants are always too tight in the waist. I always thought he was about to threaten me. Maybe he was once a cop. Not a pleasant voice."
Laura excused herself, walked to the bar. Three minutes later, she slid back into her chair and told Shana, " turns out I know the bartender. He says they are short a cocktail waitress. He'll try you out for a week if you want to see if it's a fit."
"Shana looked astonished. Said nothing for half a minute. "Really!" she finally exclaimed. "Tell him
"So," Laura said, "you lucked out when I asked you to take that card to Flint."
"I guess. All of a sudden he was gone while I was talking to Steve. I wasn't sure I would be able to find him. I saw how you looked at him. I didn't think you'd let him leave."
"Did you get Steve's thousand?"
"No. I was afraid he'd double cross me. Now I don't have a job, and the Menger didn't pay me for last week cause I'm afraid to go back. Please don't tell the cops. I had to tell the Menger my address. Like an idiot I gave them the real address. I figured Steve would get the address from the bar tender. Your friend gave me a ride back to the Menger, but I was scared so I ran. I grabbed my little suit case and a few toiletries and hitched a ride to Austin.
"Laura looked around them at the well appointed bar. "You picked a stylish place to stay."
"You crazy? I'm not staying here. Friday night a nice looking guy in his twenties gave me a ride in his pickup, bought me supper on 6 th Street and let me stay with him. He lives in Austin."
"So you moved in with him?"
"Oh, no. I left while he was still asleep this morning. He told me that this is the most high class hotel in town. I came down here to sort of eyeball the place, see if maybe I could get a job here."
"Did you?"
"I didn't ask yet. I'm not sure if I am more afraid that I might get the job or that I won't. I'm wearing the only nice outfit I have."
"Where will you sleep tonight?" Laura asked.
"No idea. Maybe I will get a job here and the bartender might get me a key to an unused room just for one night."
"You ever done that?'
"Once, when I was eighteen. The night clerk in a nice hotel in Pittsburg let me use an empty room. Turned out he wanted me to earn it, you know, with sex."
"Was it worth it?" Laura wondered.
"Yeah. Not very satisfying, but it didn't take long and I did have a place to sleep."
"You have two arrests for prostitution on your Vegas rap sheet. What about that," Laura inquired.
"No convictions. The cops like to roust new girls in town. There are always young babes, like I was, running from somewhere and dreaming of rolling in money. The pay's not that great. Casinos don't want girls distracting guys; they want guys playing till they lose it all. Depressed broke guys aren't worth much to a girl."
"Does Steve have a last name?" Laura wondered.
"Stevenson Karbouski. Don't know if it's his real name."
"Description?"
"Thinning black hair, brown eyes, five feet maybe six or seven inches, thirty pounds overweight, very white even teeth. He likes black pants and silk shirts and his pants are always too tight in the waist. I always thought he was about to threaten me. Maybe he was once a cop. Not a pleasant voice."
Laura excused herself, walked to the bar. Three minutes later, she slid back into her chair and told Shana, " turns out I know the bartender. He says they are short a cocktail waitress. He'll try you out for a week if you want to see if it's a fit."
"Shana looked astonished. Said nothing for half a minute. "Really!" she finally exclaimed. "Tell him
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