Alibi High

Al tugged at the braid at the base of his neck. “Yeah, man. Cause I still need that business, you know?” He sighed again and let go of the braid. “Alright. We got a deal then.”

A tiny shiver ran up my spine.

Al closed the door on the trailer, pointed at the casino and then started walking.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I'm taking you inside,” he said. “You wa

“Meet who?”

“The one who gave me the computers,” he said. “Because they're here. In the casino. Right now.”

THIRTY EIGHT

“We got regulars,” Al explained as we walked back down the corridor past his office. “People we see all the time. Same days, same time, whatever. And you can just tell when they're in trouble.”

“And that's when you go to them?” I asked, not bothering to hide my disapproval. “When they're in trouble?”

He looked back over his shoulder. “More or less . You can just tell .”

I bit my tongue so as not to lecture him.

“About two weeks ago, I was walking the floor,” he said, reaching the end of the corridor and the far end of the gaming floor. “That's when all of this went down.”

If it was possible, the casino floor had grown more crowded and noisier since we'd gone outside. People were shoulder to shoulder, the conversation level had risen a notch and the slots seemed to be dinging even louder. Not exactly my idea of fun.

“This customer always sits at the same table,” Al explained, leaning closer as we walked the perimeter of the floor so I could hear him. “Total regular.”

Goosebumps popped on my neck as we walked and I felt a little sick to my stomach.

“Just can't stay away and bets a lot of money,” he said, then stopped and pointed. “Right over there.”

I followed the direction he pointed in, his finger aiming at a poker table on the edge of the gaming area. There were five seats at the table and all of them were occupied. Two men and three women. The woman on the end word jeans and a light blue sweater, her long blonde hair pulled back, her expression a mask one of total concentration as she watched the dealer.

Charlotte Nordhoff looked totally immersed in the game.

As soon as Joh

“You know her?” Joh

I nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately.” ”

Al looked entirely uncomfortable standing there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, glancing in multiple directions.

Nate looked bored, like he wanted di

“You think she's the one , then?” Joh

I nodded again . “Yes. Unfortunately.”

“ Alright then,” Al said, looking at each Al looked at both of us. “So we're cool , then?”

Joh

“Yeah,” I said. “But I want those computers.”

His shoulders slumped. “I know, I know.”

“You wa

I hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Let's go back to your office,” Joh

“You're not go

“No burn,” Joh

Al and Nate exchanged looks, shrugged, realizing they couldn't do much else and headed down the corridor, Joh

I turned back to the table. Charlotte was still studying her cards, then she chucked several chips into the middle of the table. Other people tossed chips, then cards were flipped over. Charlotte grimaced and I made out a profanity on her lips. She tossed her cards toward the dealer and sat back in her chair, her arms folded tightly across her chest, frowning at the dealer.

That seemed as good of a time as any to confront Charlotte.

I took a wide berth around the table, ducking into the rows of slot machines and circling around the table she was sitting at. The gentleman next to her got out of his seat, collected his chips and walked off , shaking his head , leaving an open chair next to her. I hesitated for a moment, then slid into it.

She didn't notice me at first.

The dealer, a short man with wide shoulders and a bow tie tight at his neck, smiled at me and said , “Good evening, ma'am. You'll need to ante.”

“I have no idea what that means,” I told him. “And I'm not here to play.”

Charlotte turned to me. “Oh.” Her face flushed crimson. “Oh.”

“Hi , Charlotte,” I said.

“Daisy,” she said, glancing around. “Hello. I didn't know...didn't know you came here.”

“I don't.”

“Ma'am?” the dealer said. “If you're going to sit, you have to ante.”

“I'm not playing,” I said again.

“Then you can't sit.”

“I'll just be a minute,” I told him, then turned to Charlotte. “You wi

The corners of Charlotte's mouth twitched. “ Um, no. Not really.”

“Bummer. Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Ma'am,” the dealer continued. “If you are going to sit — ”

“Heard you the first time,” I said, showing him the palm of my hand. “Give me a minute. I need to ask my friend a question here.”

Charlotte blinked, played toyed with her chip s. s. “Okay.”

“Did you steal the computers from Prism?” I asked.

“I'm go

“Because Al just showed me a whole bunch of computers and he said he got them from you,” I said to Charlotte. “Is he telling me the truth?”

Charlotte busied herself with stacking her chips, but didn't look at me refusing to meet my gaze . “Computers? Al? I'm not sure I know what you're talking about.”

“The ones that disappeared from Prism?” I said. “The ones that Al tells me he received as payment from you? Does that help clear it up?”

Her face was the color of a fully ripened tomato now . “I don't know what you're talking about .” ,” she repeated.

“Maybe we should go talk to Al , then?”

Her hands started to shake as she gathered her chips and stood. . “I have to go .” ,” she s aid, hopping to her feet.

I looked at the dealer. “Now I'll get up.”

He rolled his eyes.

I stood and followed Charlotte as she walked away from the table. “Are you seriously going to tell me that , even after Al pointed you out and showed me the computers in a trailer out back , that you don't know what I'm talking about? Really?”

She didn't say anything, but just kept walking.

“I mean, everyone at Prism mentioned your gambling issues,” I continued, walking keeping pace next to her. “And Al told me that you delivered the computers to him because your line of credit got so big. And now that I think about all of this, you were the one pointing me in the direction of other people at Prism who might've had a hand in stealing the computers. I think the one thing I really need to ask Mrs. Bingledorf at this point is if you had access to the building on weekends. Because, right now, I'm betting that you do. And if you, then —”

“Oh my God!” Charlotte yelled, coming to a scree t ching halt. “Shut up already!”

She sounded like one of my kids.

“Yes, I took the computers,” she hissed at me. Her blond locks stuck to her sweat-dampened cheeks. “I had to. I didn't have another choice. I owed this damn place so much money, I didn't have another choice. But I was about to win it all back tonight and then I would've donated it to Prism to buy new computers, except you interrupted the run I was about to have.”