Page 29 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

“There’s no money to pay a manager. I can’t even pay myself.”

“Have you considered selling the place?”

Another sigh. “Yeah. That was my first plan. But the only decent offer is from the casino next door. They want to knock the place down and turn the land into a golf course.”

“Great, another golf course. Because the water levels in Lake Mead haven’t dropped far enough yet.”

“Exactly. But it’s not only the environmental impact, it’s the staff. They’d all lose their jobs, and in this economy, it wouldn’t be easy for them to find new ones.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“At the moment? I don’t really have one. I’m still going through the finances and records, trying to work out where we can cut costs. The staff already got together and offered to take a pay cut if it would save their jobs, but I don’t think it’ll be enough. I’m not a businessman. Yes, I’ve been running my own business for several years, but that’s just me, the boat, and a couple of casual deckhands when I need them.”

“Are you covering the debt payments?”

“I think so.”

“You don’t know for sure?”

“We’re covering what we owe to the banks, barely. But soon after I got here, a guy showed up in my office. Jimmy. He said Uncle Mike borrowed money from him, but I can’t find any paperwork, and he hasn’t produced any.”

Okay, this was new.

“So he was a con artist?”

“I don’t know. I hope so. The first visit, he was polite, but then he came back two weeks later and told me I’d be sorry if I didn’t start making the payments.”

A chill ran through me, and it had nothing to do with the AC because that was woefully inadequate.

“Sorry in what way?”

“He didn’t get into the specifics, just said the payments were two hundred thousand in arrears and he knew where I lived.”

Uh-oh. Who didn’t like paperwork but were fond of threats? Loan sharks. Could Uncle Mike really have been that stupid? Desperate men did desperate things.

“How were you supposed to make the payments? It isn’t like casinos keep piles of cash lying around these days.”

“Bitcoin. He left me a card with a Bitcoin address. I’ve told security not to let him into the building again, but…” Cole trailed off, and I knew why. Security at the Galaxy wasn’t that good.

“Bitcoin? That sounds hinky.”

“The Galaxy was the first resort on the Strip to accept payment in cryptocurrency. Bitcoin and Ethereum. I think it was one of Uncle Mike’s last-gasp schemes to make the hotel profitable again, and it did generate some publicity, but the financial controller says there’s not much available in the crypto accounts. Wallets? I think they’re called wallets.”

You didn’t keep the crypto in the wallet. The crypto lived on the blockchain, and the wallet merely held the keys to access it—I’d learned that much from Echo.

“What’s the address? Maybe a geek could find the owner?”

“I left the card on my desk, but I think the cleaner must have picked it up because now I can’t find it. Not that it matters. Even if the company owes the money, we can’t afford to settle the debt right away.”

“Did Jimmy pay you a visit at home?”

Cole shook his head. “Could be he was just trying to scare me? A con artist, like you said.”

It was possible. But would a con artist send four gunmen to a man’s house to scare him? Unlikely. Until now,the evidence had suggested those men had come for me, not Cole, but what if he’d inherited more than a failing casino? What if Uncle Mike had left him a whole heap of trouble?

“Anything’s possible,” I said. “Do you carry a gun?”

“Hell no.”

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