Lucky



Reyes pulled the SUV into the parking lot of the generic-looking hotel. They had found a boarding kennel for Betty. They would pick her up when this was all over, but for now, they needed to keep her out of the way, and definitely safe.

The trio walked inside and stood in the lobby, looking around at the beige walls, beige tiles, burgundy and gray couches and chairs. “I’m going to get her room number,” Lucky said. “Reyes, give me your cell phone.” She turned the phone off. “Go stand by the elevator, you two. Once I get the number, I’ll meet you there.”

“Hi,” Lucky said, approaching the concierge with an apologetic smile on her face. “I’m so sorry, but can you help me with something? I’m meeting someone here—Gloria Devereaux? And she texted me her room number, told me to come on up when I got here, except my phone died”—she held the phone out in front of her, and pushed the home screen; the screen stayed blank—“so I have no idea what room she’s in. Would you mind looking it up for me?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t give out that information. But I could call up to her room for you and let her know you’re here, Miss…?”

“Shoot. Okay, sure, give her a call.” The concierge lifted the receiver to dial—and Lucky caught the numbers he pressed with a quick glance: 513.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You know what? She’s probably at the casino. You can hang up, it’s okay.” He did, but Lucky heard a woman’s voice saying hello just before he landed the handset back on the receiver.

She walked toward the elevator, where Reyes and John waited.

There was a couple on the elevator with them. They didn’t speak until they got to the fifth floor.

“Okay,” John said. “Let’s go over the plan one last time.”

“Maybe Reyes should knock. She could say something like, ‘Time for your complimentary turndown,’ and then—”

“Gloria will like that. Tell her you have chocolates.”

They walked down the hall while Reyes knocked. “Who is it?” came Gloria’s voice.

“Housekeeping,” Reyes said. “Chocolate turndown service.”

“What the hell is that?” Gloria growled.

“You get a special turndown service… with chocolate.”

“Just leave the chocolate outside the door.”

“There are a few different kinds to choose from. Chocolate mints, chocolate strawberries, chocolate-covered orange peels—”

“Go away.”

Silence.

“Shit,” said Reyes, under her breath.

Lucky stepped forward and knocked on the door now. “Gloria? You know who this is. You have something of mine. But I have something of yours—a recording of you admitting to all those fake repairs and bilking senior citizens. I have witnesses back at the camp who are pretty upset. And I have the police on speed dial.”

Still nothing.

John stepped forward. He tapped on the door. “Gloria. It’s John Armstrong. Open the damn door.”

A moment later, the door flew open. Gloria’s hair was sticking out in all directions and her eyes were wild. “Jesus Christ, could you all just shut up?” She looked down the hall, then stood aside. “Come in. Quickly.”

When they were all inside, Gloria double-locked the door.

“Who the hell are you?” Gloria asked Reyes.

“A friend,” Reyes said.

“I’ve met the kind of friends she has,” Gloria replied, nodding her head toward Lucky. “And they are truly fucked-up people.”

“No greeting, Gloria?” John said. “It’s been thirty years, and you don’t even want to know how I’ve been?”

Gloria just stared at him. “Do you really think I care about that right now? I know what you’re here for, and the ticket is gone.”

Lucky had been looking around the room, at the clothes strewn about, the empty take-out containers. A bottle of Blue Moon was open on the dresser.

“What do you mean, gone?” John asked.

Gloria sat down on the bed and put her face in her hands. Then she looked up. “Look, I’m sorry. She got all pissed-drunk on some hundred-proof I gave her, started babbling on about winning the lottery, so after she passed out, I checked her wallet. Looked the ticket up, saw it was a winner, and I just—lost my mind a little. But when I left the camp, I didn’t get very far. Some crazy bitch and her bodyguard ran me off the road. They asked me what I knew about Lucky. I said, Who the fuck is Lucky?”

“That’s her real name,” John said. “Luciana, actually.”

“Well, I know that now. They knocked me around a bit, until I told them I may not know anyone named Lucky, but I had recently met a young woman named Sarah who fit the description they were giving. And then they made me march toward the river.” Gloria’s voice was shaking now. “They were going to shoot me and push me in, I heard them talking about it. So, stupidly, I told them I had a winning lottery ticket that was worth a lot of money, and they shouldn’t kill me. The big guy got all excited. They took the ticket from me and took off. That was it. I came here. I was too afraid to go back to the camp. I’ve been hiding out here ever since.” Now, she looked at Lucky. “Listen, I’m sorry.”

Lucky shook her head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. It was over. She wasn’t going to be able to get the ticket back from Priscilla. If she went anywhere near Priscilla, Priscilla would just kill her. The odds had always been stacked against Lucky, but now they were insurmountable.

“I’m going to take a walk,” Lucky said.

Reyes stepped forward. “Here,” she said, holding out her car keys. “Go sit in the car. It’s raining again.”

Marissa Stapley's books