Free Pokergeist by Michael Phillip Cash Page A

complication. Any way she looked at this thing, it didn’t look promising. What was she thinking?—she knew how Rob had been eyeing her the last few weeks. If Telly had gotten the taxi job then, she’d be out of here and have the luxury to find something at a reasonable pace, even pick and choose. It wasn’t his fault; she hadn’t complained. Hadn’t wanted to worry him. Telly was such a sweet guy who had fallen in love with her even though she wasn’t as educated as he was. He was solid middle class, came from a nice family, and had gone to college. Gretchen had spent a lifetime living in foster care. Never completing tenth grade, she’d fled her last home when her foster father had tried to rape her. She worked hard, never giving in to the temptation for the easy money Vegas offered in the streets. Gretchen had cleaned offices and worked at dead-end retail jobs, finally taking the bartending job in the evenings to supplement her income. It ended up paying her better than all the other jobs put together. Only Rob had bought the little bar, and things started going downhill after that. It didn’t take a genius to know what Rob wanted from her. Gretchen bit her lower lip, sound receding so that she felt trapped in a bubble. Telly had to get that job tomorrow. He had to, because there was no way she could put up with this. Thick and thin, and it was fast becoming so thin you could see through it. She sighed.
    “I’ll see you Tuesday. Wear something nice,” Rob said to her, retreating back. She heard the echoes of his laughter all the way from the other side of the bar.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    “W hat am I going to do?” Telly walked in a circle, not knowing where to go. “Gretchen…” he sighed.
    “Stop doing that; you’re making me dizzy,” Clutch ordered. “I’m gonna tell you what we’re going to do.”
    “ We’re not doing anything. You’re not real.”
    “I thought we established exactly what I am. I am here to help you.”
    “I don’t know you,” Telly said forlornly. He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know who you are.”
    “You’ve read at least one of my books. Believe me, you know me pretty well.”
    “I read…I read all your books.”
    “Then there’s no issue. We’re practically family.”
    “But you’re dead. You can’t help me. It’s probably the wings. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten the wings.”
    “Wings had nothing to do with this, Telly.” Clutch paused and thought of the white-haired angel with the huge feathered wings. “Well, maybe they do, but not the way you think.”
    “I don’t know what to think. This is crazy.” Telly sprinted to the bathroom, slammed the door, and leaned up against it, hyperventilating.
    “Now listen here, kid. If I could walk through the motel door, I can sure as hell walk through a flimsy bathroom door. Calm down before you ruin everything. Can’t have two dead poker players.”
    “Dead!” Telly exploded. He glanced up to look at his white face in the mirror. A cool breeze ruffled the hair at his neck. Telly knew Clutch was right next to him, but only his face stared back from the mirror.
    “You know I’m there. You can feel me, and if you look to your left you’ll see me. Look, Telly, I have all the time in the world. I’m not going anywhere until we work this thing out.”
    Telly turned to face the older man. “What do you want from me?” he whispered frantically.
    “That’s better. We’re going to play poker together.”
    “Where? How?” Telly shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I retired tonight.”
    “You lost tonight. Tomorrow you are going to win.”
    “I’m not good at it. I give up. I’m going for a job in…”—he looked at his wristwatch and sighed—“…seven hours.”
    “In four hours, I promise you that you are going to be sitting with a pile of chips that will bring you halfway to your seat at the Series.”
    Telly shook his head. “No way. I’m not that good.” He gestured at his pocket.