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Back to Vegas, Part 7 (Suspense, Fiction)

August 10, 2011 - Burt Angeli
I had a couple questions for Bianca but she didn't look to be in the mood for any conversation with her face plastered against the car window looking off to the mountains.

I was hoping Bianca would shed some light on how she slipped out of the residence on Greengrove. OK, it's not exactly Alcatraz there and we're not exactly light sleepers.

How did she get out to Pahrump? The kid might have the guts to hitchhike but a better bet might have been boyfriend Ron providing transportation.

I was ready to ask about her dedication to tennis when she let out a yelp from the backseat.

"What am I sitting on?"

"Hearing aid, probably a Belltone model," Oslo and I responded in unison along with a fist bump. "And be careful of that rifle. It could be loaded."

Oslo's late father, Oscar, seemed to always come away with a used hearing aid from his rummaging. Bianca wasn't the first person to find one in the backseat.

"What's with you two guys? Don't you have anything better to do?"

Actually, we did, and hoped to start our own Vegas itinerary after leaving Bianca at the Hanges-Reidy Tennis Center.

Oslo, looking to put a couple bets down, left us at the courts while he headed to the Strip. His first stop was to Ralph's Motel and an audience with McKinney, a renowned sports authority.

"He might have winners," Oslo yelled out the car window.

"Don't forget me," I retorted, hoping to reunite the mother and daughter, and get going with my own Vegas plans.

Barbie was steaming when she spotted me.

"Where have you been? Where's Bianca?"

One question was answered when Bianca walked out of the locker room in her tennis attire.

"Bianca, you've got 15 minutes before your match and you need to warm up. What are you going to do?"

I picked up a racquet and ordered Bianca to follow me. Barbie returned to tourney headquarters to finalize registration.

"You're going to hit with me? How desperate am I?"

I picked up a tennis ball and slapped a nasty backhand slice into a gust of wind. She flailed away helplessly like most of my City Park foes back home.

"Take notes. You might need that shot one day."

(To be continued)

 
 

 

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