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My parents have a lot of talent when it comes to investing, playing the markets, inheriting money, and things like that, but they are devoid of both skill and taste when it comes to anything creative. Block letters, no graphics, plain text . . . I shuddered when I saw it. If my computer skills lay more with graphic design, I might have wept.
“Call me Alice,” she said. I looked back at her. Alice was no taller than five-four, but possessed an above-average figure to match her pretty face. Her clothes hid a lot, but I guessed she frequented a gym—or at least a home treadmill. She didn’t seem like a woman a man would cheat on, but I knew several fools who cheated on their very attractive wives with women they shouldn’t have glanced at a second time.
“Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game," I said. "Something I read on a motivational poster somewhere.”
Juice, in addition to being a delicious beverage, is also a gambling term. It refers to the bookie’s take of the wager and is also an amount sought after to pay off loans or gambling debts. Jessica and Joey suggested Alice's lying and her evasive demeanor—not to mention the withdrawals from the joint checking account—indicated a drug problem. In fact, they indicated a gambling problem.
I fluttered in and out, eventually becoming aware of lying on a cold, hard surface. I felt like I had been shaken from a dream but still existed halfway inside its alternate reality. Sound came back next in the form of two voices speaking Cantonese. I lay there and tried to discern as much as possible without opening my eyes. No point in revealing my consciousness to my captors.
We didn’t need Vinnie’s confession. With the information his erstwhile employees could give us, plus the physical evidence recovered from the Paul Fisher scenes, we had enough to put him away. Though I didn’t expect him to, Rich went along with me on getting Vinnie to confess. Now I had to deliver the goods.
