Motion to Suppress

April 26, Midnight Let me tell you the way I remember it. I worked the four-to-twelve shift at Prize's Thursday night, April 26. Tahoe casinos stay open night and day, no matter how slow it gets, just in case some big loser might show up in the dead of night. I was glad to be working even if it meant looking busy when there was not much to be done. The dealers silently handed out cards at the ten or twelve tables that had any players. They don't let us wear watches, but we all knew what time it was exactly, and exactly when the next shift would take over our stations so we could return home to our loving spouses. By the Tonga Bar, a man with shiny brown boots and a cowboy string tie was watching me. He had caught me by the quarter slots earlier, but I'd seen something I needed to do across the room. This time, he moved in fast. My back was against the wall and these thin, hard lips started whispering about his room upstairs. I pushed him off me, spilling his house bourbon, and Security came to the rescue. I remember thinking it was a good thing it wasn't Anthony behind the mirrors, watching. He blames me when I get cornered. That night I was working swing, which I usually like. Swing shift I get home about one in the morning, so I have afternoons to do the shopping and errands around town, but that night I felt bad, and it showed. I decided to shine a bunch of smiles around in my last ten minutes to make up for the rest of the night, maybe up the tips a little, even though underneath I felt like hell. The last few minutes of my shift that night took forever. When Brenda showed up about ten after twelve, a few minutes late the way she always is, I ran into the employee lounge. Off with the black satin Playboy-bunny knockoff, which I folded and put into my cubby, off with the mesh stockings and heels, which I stuffed into a canvas bag. I washed some of the junk off my face, and got into warm leggings and my down coat. The parking lot at Prize's is just down from the mountains at Heavenly. You can't imagine the wind and cold some nights. A couple of inches of new snow covered the ground by the time I got to our house. It's in the Tahoe Keys and we have a piece of the lake with a little dock in the backyard. No boat, though. We can always use Rick's. Anthony doesn't like owning anything he can borrow. I could see into the picture window through the heavy flakes. Anthony wasn't lying on the blue couch, but the fire was bright. "I wanna love you night and day/ You know my love'll not fade away." The CD player boomed out ancient Rolling Stones, and when I heard it, I almost drove away. That music meant he was awake, drunk, and waiting for me. I sat watching the dashboard ice over long enough to hear him start his favorite song up again. Anthony had left the door unlocked, so I sneaked in quietly. When I got inside, I could only see firelight, a few candles burning, orange flickers on the wall and a lot of shadows. I didn't see him and that was a relief. I took off my parka and sat down on the couch to take my boots off. I pulled too hard, and knocked a plate and fork onto the floor. The bedroom door opened. "You're late, Misty," Anthony said. His feet made the parquet tiles crackle when he walked. He pulled the tie belt into a knot on the maroon silk robe from China he had filched from somewhere and dug around in the pocket. His hand came out with a crumpled cigarette pack that he stuffed back inside. His hair stuck out, and his eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. He walked over to turn off the music. "I'll get you a drink." "No, thanks." "Take it." He jammed a stiff Yukon Jack into my hand and I knocked it down fast, saying to myself oh, what the hell, holding the glPerri O'Shaughnessy is the author of 'Motion to Suppress', published 1995 under ISBN 9780385314107 and ISBN 0385314108.