I made the drive in thirty-five minutes flat, despite the lights and sirens that were positively everywhere as I neared town. There were Explorers literally bursting with undocumenteds. The station itself might as well have been equipped with a turnstile for all of the arrests coming in and transport buses heading back and forth from any number of overflowing detention centers, where the illegals would simply plead guilty to save time and be shipped back across the border, only to try their luck again.

Even this close to midnight, the level of activity was positively insane. Blackhawks thundering past overhead, their spotlights scouring the desert. Headlights bounding through the hills. The scanner was going nuts. Whatever they were paying their dispatchers, it wasn’t enough. They made air traffic controllers sound like Ben Stein. I couldn’t imagine there was an insurance company on the planet that would sign any of them to a life insurance policy with a suicide payout.

The casino itself was sleepy by comparison. It was really little more than a Vegas-themed truck stop. The real magic happened at the main Desert Diamond Casino outside of Tucson, where I heard it rumored that John Mellencamp frequently performed, sans Cougar. This place wasn’t even open twenty-four hours. Probably even had clocks. It had that vibe of sweaty desperation about it that made me not want to touch anything for fear of contracting some form of terminal depression. I could positively taste the haze of cigarette smoke all the way from my car, where I sat trying not to scratch at the itchy spots from which I’d recently removed the cactus needles.

There was a steady stream of traffic, primarily interstate truckers, through the self-serve bays. A good number had already bedded down for the night in the dirt lot around the side of the casino. I didn’t have to sit there for very long to realize that the women coming and going from the cabs weren’t carhops. I’d imagine they probably weren’t legal residents either.

The convenience store slash restaurant was well-lighted and relatively vacant. There were a couple of heavyset men at the counter and another perusing a wall of magazines. The rotund woman at the register also capped off the coffee, walking back and forth from one to the other in a continuous loop that had surely worn a trench into the floor.

The casino side was the diametric opposite. It was dark and smoky and all sorts of sirens flashed and lights flared from the rows of slot machines I could see through the front glass doors. A uniformed security guard stood sentry just inside the right door and out of sight. He magically appeared to admit anyone who neared. I didn’t figure my cousin Ban would be so easy to find and I wasn’t disappointed. I still needed to approach this the right way, though. I couldn’t afford to give up my advantage.

By the time I stepped out of my car, the security guard was already in the open doorway, staring straight at me. It appeared as though I wasn’t the only one doing a little surveilling. I opted for jeans and a T-shirt and left my jacket and cap in the car, but the damage was already done thanks to my conspicuously inconspicuous Crown Vic. He smiled as he ushered me inside and led me down a long row of slots to a small doorway concealed in the wall. Another guard, who wore the air of supervision as heavily as the gut hanging over his belt and onto his lap, was seated behind a desk upon which sat a dozen flickering monitors only he could see. He stared expectantly up at me from a fleshy face that appeared to hang from the bones of his face like a big gob of snot. The name badge on his chest read: J. Armandiriz, Chief of Security.

I smiled.

He didn’t.

Great. I was going to have to do this the hard way.

I reached for my badge jacket, but he waved me off.

“No need.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The rooms are in the back. Just head through the door behind the blackjack table and find the first open room. One of the girls will be in short—”

“I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding here. I need—”

“I know all about your needs. Spare me the song and dance. We’re closing up in half an hour and I have a fun-filled night of hosing the drunks out of here ahead of me. So just get back there and—”

Turns out I wasn’t the only one who could read expressions. This joker was a little slow on the uptake, but he managed to get the gist of mine just fine. I watched his change from surprise to alarm to sheer terror in the time it took me to reach across the desk and grab him by the hair. I had a hunch he was the kind of guy who wasn’t going to run off and tattle on me. I bounced his head off of one of the video monitors and sat down in the chair across the desk from him. Pleasantries out of the way, I got right down to business.

“Here’s the deal: I’ve had a pretty rotten night and I’m all out of patience, so I’ll make this so simple that even you can understand it. I’m going to ask some questions. You’re going to answer them. If you do so, I’ll walk out of here and you can go back to doing whatever it is you do. If you don’t, I’m going to drag you out of here by the scruff of your flabby neck and drop you somewhere out there in the desert where you can wipe your fat ass with cactus pads for all I care. If you repeat a single word of what transpires here, I will descend upon you with the wrath of God and shove that cereal box badge of yours straight down your throat. Have I made myself perfectly clear?”

A trickle of blood rolled down his forehead. I watched his Adam’s apple rise, then jiggle as he swallowed a knot and whatever pride he might have thought he possessed up until that moment. I think he might have tried to speak, but I was able to read his face well enough without verbal confirmation.

“And I expect whatever cut your taking off of these girls’…labors…to go back into their pockets as a bonus so they can move on a little faster.”

That one hit him like a blow to the gut. He just had one of those faces that made you want to keep hitting him. Fortunately for him, I had a more pressing engagement.

“Where’s Ban Walker?”

The expression on his face was one of utter confusion. I knew right then and there that I was wasting my time, valuable time that I simply didn’t have.

“How the hell should I know? I haven’t seen that guy in probably two years. Not since I had to let him go.”

“Why?”

“He was an arrogant prick. Thought he was better than all of the rest of us just because he’d worn the colors of the green Gestapo for all of about thirty seconds. Like his shit don’t stink, right?” His eyes had been doing their best to avoid mine, but they latched on when he finally caught up with the situation. His cheeks flushed with what could have passed for the return of his confidence. “I always knew there was something wrong with that guy. What did he do?”

“I just need to talk to him.”

“No. No. There’s more to it than that. You’re federal. He’s done something really big.”

“Do you still have some way of tracking him down?”

“Don’t you think I’d be smart enough to trade that information if I had it?”

“Honestly?”

“Screw you. Don’t think just because you got that big old badge that you can treat me like something you scraped off your shoe. You think you’re the only fed who comes in here? I probably knew more agents than you do. And don’t think for a second that any of them would be happy to hear that you’re threatening their free…entertainment.”

“You really want me to come back here, don’t you?”

“No.” He smiled. “I want you to get the hell out of here.”

He leaned forward and rested his chin on his pudgy fists. He cocked his head first one way, then the other. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an expression that smug on another human being.

I rose to leave. There was nothing for me here. I had learned everything I was going to, which amounted to somewhere between jack and squat. I turned and headed for the door, uncertain exactly how the confrontation had turned on me. Maybe I just needed to work on my people skills.