As Bell and I are leaving her apartment, I feel my cell phone buzz in my pocket. I look at the screen and I have a message from Shona.

“Who is that?” Bell asks, as she bangs on her car door.

“Shona, she says they are leaving later, so they will be back tomorrow afternoon. I just hope that’s enough time for Beau to get to the bank,” I reply.

“It will be close, and if Alex has explained his situation, they will have only given him forty-eight hours maximum.”

“That’s my worry,” I say, rubbing my cross.

“You will wear that thing out if you’re not careful,” Bell says laughing.

“I have to do something, I would get on my knees and pray, but I think it doesn’t work anymore, for me.”

“Don’t worry, we will do all we can to get him back safe and sound,” Bell says.

“Where are we going first?” I ask.

“We are going to some places I know that have backstreet gambling, most of it is on the horses, but you never know,” Bell says.

“This is so far removed from my old life,” I reply, thinking how crazy it all is.

Bell looks over at me from the driving seat. “You make it sound like you were in a convent or something.”

I shrug my shoulders and huff a little.

We finally reach a part of town that doesn’t have any of the glitz and glamor of the Vegas strip. And this, it seems, is the real Las Vegas, the part that is underneath all the lights and the façade that is displayed to the millions of visitors every year.

This is the gritty side, the side where the has beens, and the losers frequent while still trying to hang onto their dreams.

“You better let me do the talking,” Bell says.

“Take it away, and you better have my phone with his picture,” I say.

Bell puts the phone into her jacket pocket. I follow close behind her as we walk into a back-end gambling shop.

I look around. Guys are fixated with the TV, and horse racing from every track is shown on a different screen. They scour newspapers and make notes. Most hoping to spot something that the one’s making the odds haven’t noticed.

I walk along the floor, or should I say carpet, it is littered with torn up betting slips. It is evident that the odd makers haven't missed much today. Bell walks up to a guy who is sitting behind a wire grill. She pulls out the phone and shows him Alex’s picture.

“You ever see this guy Mr.?” she asks.

“Lady, have a fucking look around you, does he look like the type of guy to come in here,” the old guy says, as the ash falls from his cigarette to his pants.

“Okay, keep going.”

He looks down and wipes his leg. “He looks more like a card player than someone who bets on the ponies.”

“You have got that right,” Bell says.

“Ask old Tommy over there, the one by the window. If it is card games you want, he will know where it’s happening.”

Bell walks up to the old guy by the window. “Excuse me, are you Tommy?” she asks.

“Yeah, who’s fucking asking?” he replies.

“I was told by your friend in the cage you kn…” Bell starts to say.

“He isn’t a friend of mine, he is a two-bit crook.” The old guy gives a look of distaste.

“Well, the guy says you have your ear to the ground on card games,” she says.

“You looking for a game?” he asks.

“No, I am trying to find a friend,” Bell says, as she shows Tommy the picture.

“Hmm. He looks familiar,” he says.

“Where from?” she asks.

“I don’t know, he just looks familiar,” he replies.

“Do you know where there are any games going on, big games?” Bell asks.

“There are lots of big games going on, all around you, you just never see them,” he replies.

This dick is winding Bell up. I pull back on Bell’s shoulder. “Let me talk to him,” I say.

“Have a crack, I think he is a bit senile,” she says.

I lean forward and hold out the phone. I have a fifty wedged between my fingers.

“Have you seen this guy?” I ask.

“Let me look closer,” he says as he pulls the fifty and shoves it in his pocket.

“I haven’t seen him for a while, a few weeks maybe,” Tommy says. “I had heard he was in a bit of shit.”

“That is why we are looking for him.”

“I am hungry,” Tommy says.

I pull another note from my pocket and slip it into his hand. “Two guys, they are big-time loan sharks and mean as fuck, if he owes them, he may never walk again,” Tommy says.

“Can you just tell me where to look?” I ask.

“He used to run a club called, oh, what was it?” he says. “The Real Deal, down on Fifteenth and Broadway. Just don’t go after dark.”

“Tommy, you are a gentleman,” I say.

“Just be careful who you speak to,” Tommy calls as we walk toward the door.

“Fifteenth and Broadway. Do you know where it is?” I ask.

“We can find out, just keep your eyes open for a cop,” Bell says.

“I’m not sure there will be any cops around here,” I reply.

“Brooke, cops can be addicted to gambling as well, or sometimes they come for a payoff.”

“Oh, so it is like the movies?” I ask, shocked.

“A bit freakin’ worse than that.”

Bell heads back toward the main strip. We park the car. A squad car is parked on the corner next to a diner. A cop comes walking down the steps with a brown paper bag.

“Excuse me, Officer. Do you know where Fifteenth and Broadway is?” Bell asks.

“You know how much this lunch cost me?” he replies.

“Pass him this twenty,” I say.

Bell hangs her hand from the window with the twenty in her hand.

“You trying to bribe me?” the cop asks.

“Nah, we are just buying you lunch as a thank you.”

“A thank you for what?” he asks.

“For politely telling us where Fifteenth and Broadway is.”

The cop walks up to the car and puts his head in the window. I can smell the cheap whiskey from my side of the car as the cop looks down at Bell’s legs.

“You have to drive about ten blocks and make a left. You will see a stop sign. Hook a left, and you are there.”

“Thanks so much, Officer,” Bell says as she drops the twenty onto the ground.

“You fuckin’ dumb broads.” He bends for the twenty.

Bell turns to me and hands me half of the note. “What have you done?” I ask.

“That will teach the cocksucker for being such a pig,” she replies.

“Bell, you are terrible really,” I say.

“Yeah, but it will grow on you,” she replies.

Bell heads down the street. I sit counting the blocks. I look at the sky as the sun starts setting. “You think we will be safe?” I ask.

“Check the glove compartment,” she says.

“Don’t tell me you have a gun.”

“Of course not.”

I open the glove box. I pull out a butterfly knife and a can of pepper spray. “That’s it, that is your protection?” I roll my eyes and feel like I need to pray more.

“Spray yourself in the face, then see what happens,” Bell says laughing.

“And the knife?” I ask.

“I am a bit of a wizard with a knife. Bike gangs love playing with knives, and I picked up a few habits.” I put the spray and knife on my lap. “Have you ever picked up any dirty habits?” Bell asks.

I missed what Bell was saying. “Excuse me?”

“Habits, you know those things. Dirty habits, have you ever picked any up?” she asks again.

“I have picked up one or two, but not for a while,” I reply.

“How many blocks now?” Bell asks.

“Nine, so the next one.”

Bell makes the next turn left. “I can see the traffic signal up ahead,” she says.

Bell approaches the light and makes a left turn. We drive down the street looking for a sign that says, “The Real Deal.”

“Well, I can’t see anything,” I say.

“That makes two of us, maybe it’s by name only.”

Bell parks the car. We step onto the sidewalk. I shove the pepper spray into my jacket pocket, and Bell slips the knife up the sleeve of her leather jacket. We walk down the street looking at all the entrances of the buildings. We reach the end.

“There is nothing this side,” I say.

Bell crosses the street. “Maybe it is on the other side?”

I see a guy walking toward us. He looks kind of nervous and is looking around him. He makes a sharp right and vanishes into one of the doorways.

“Quick, that guy. I think he is an addict.”

“Go down there, turn left and left again. Make a right. If you get lost don’t come back to me.”