Free Obstruction of Justice by Perri O'Shaughnessy

lucky gather up their winnings. Over at the Tonga Bar, the alcoholics were getting an early start.
    Why did she like it here so much? Was it the total acceptance (for as long as she had a quarter left to drop in the slots)? Shrugging, she gave a change person a twenty and started feeding quarters into the maw of a video poker machine.
    After twenty minutes, three dollars up from her initial investment, she was getting carpal tunnel syndrome in her right index finger from punching the play and hit and deal buttons. Carrying her white plastic bucket with its scanty load of quarters, she got up and wandered over to the high-stakes room, where real gamblers playing stud poker sat at tables for eight headed by attentive dealers in green aprons.
    Sometimes she caught a glimpse of Hollywood people or foreign dignitaries through the doorway. A bouncer trying not to look like one waited to toss out cash-poor curiosity-seekers like herself if they took it in mind to cross the threshold. Stepping out of his line of sight, Nina saw someone she recognized, a woman with sunglasses pushed up over curly black hair.
    Although it was early afternoon, the woman was wearing a black cocktail dress, her long slim legs crossed at the ankles, tapping her lacquered fingernails on the side of her martini glass. She pushed a stack of chips to the middle of the table from several stockpiled neatly in front of her. While Nina considered whether she ought to say hello, the woman folded a dud hand, watching her hundred-dollar chips being raked away, her expression blank.
    She wore black out of respect for her husband, of course, black to show her grief. It was Sarah de Beers, and next to her, not touching her but staying close by, sat Leo Tarrant.
    She saw Nina watching and got up quickly, walking toward her. Brushing past the bouncer, she took Nina by the arm. "Why are you following me?"
    "Mrs. de Beers, I’m here to have some fun on a Saturday afternoon, just like you. That’s all."
    "I don’t believe it. It’s Quentin, isn’t it? What is he up to now? Are you going to photograph me having a moment of freedom? What does he want?"
    "I don’t know what you’re talking about," said Nina. "Now, I can see you’re upset, but I need my arm back."
    She let go of Nina’s arm and pulled a loose strap up over her own bare shoulder, staggering a little. "I’m sorry. It’s Ray’s father. He’s going to take Ray’s place, running my life, telling me and the kids what to do and how to do it. Criticizing everything. What’s wrong with coming here to have a little fun? What’s wrong with wanting to forget everything for a few hours?"
    Leo appeared, naked adoration sandblasting the rough edges from his face as he looked at her. "Everything okay?" he asked her, his eyes turning on Nina with an entirely different expression.
    "I want to go home, Leo. Let’s go."
    "Wait. Mrs. de Beers," said Nina quickly, "since you’re here, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask."
    "What?"
    "Did our decision to continue on up to the summit have anything at all to do with the rest of you trying to reach the top?"
    "You feel guilty about that, don’t you? You could tell Ray didn’t like seeing you go ahead of us."
    "I wondered."
    "He’s dead; that’s the only thing that matters. Just like all of us, you had everything and nothing to do with it. I’m sorry ... about what I said." She leaned a little on Leo as they walked away. Nina looked around. At the craps table nearby, the clamoring reached a crescendo as an elderly man blew on the dice, mumbled a prayer or something like it, and tossed the dice against the back wall of the table. Then there was jubilation from the winners, but now she registered, too, the moaning of the losers.
    The fever had broken. She cashed in and went home.

6
    PAUL LEFT BEFORE DAWN ON MONDAY MORNING and made it up to Tahoe from Carmel in four hours and thirty-seven minutes, arriving before ten, a personal best.
    He checked into Caesars