A Killing at the Creek: An Ozarks Mystery
: Chapter 14

A FRIGID BLAST of air-­conditioning struck Elsie as she and Chuck entered the Jackpot Casino.

Coming in from the midday sun of a cloudless Oklahoma summer sky, she was temporarily blinded by the darkness inside the casino. As her eyes adjusted, they took in glittering colored lights from rows of slot machines.

Though it was only noon, the Jackpot was doing a brisk business. The musical play of the machines rang in Elsie’s ears. She waved her hand through a cloud of smoke emanating from players nearby.

“I guess they have a smoking section,” she said to Chuck.

He barked a short laugh. “This is an Indian casino, sweetheart. The whole place is a smoking section. The American Indian introduced us to the tobacco leaf.”

Elsie followed Chuck as he threaded his way past gaming tables and through jangling machines occupied by gray-­haired women, some with walkers and oxygen tanks in tow. When he walked up to the bar and slid onto a stool, she followed suit.

“I’ll have a Boston Lager,” he told the bartender.

Elsie gasped. “You can’t have a drink.”

“Watch me.”

“But we’re working.”

“I’m taking a lunch break.”

He paid for the beer and slipped a twenty-­dollar bill from his wallet.

“We’re way outside the McCown County line, pal,” he said to Elsie. “I’m going to play some slots. If you see Ashlock before I do, come look for me. I’ll be out on the floor.”

With that, he walked off, leaving Elsie alone on a bar stool.

She would’ve followed, but he clearly didn’t seek her company. She wasn’t sure what she should do. Twirling on the stool, she sniffed the air of the casino. It wasn’t so bad. Pretty smoky, but combined with a nice air freshener smell. She’d been in worse places.

The bartender approached. “Can I get you something, ma’am?” He was a good-­looking young man with jet black hair.

Elsie sighed, propping her elbow on the bar. “I could use a soda, I guess.”

“Soda’s free. On the house,” he said, filling a plastic cup with ice. “Coke or Diet Coke?”

“Give me a real one,” Elsie said. “Maybe I’ll live a little.” She was morose; maybe a shot of corn syrup would lift her spirits. Goddamned case, she thought. The suspect’s a kid, and I’m odd man out on the prosecution team, but it doesn’t matter—­because I’m afraid of the sight of blood. I’m a total loser.

As the bartender set down the Coke, he pointed out a customer ser­vice area. “See that over there? If you go register with them, they’ll give you free play.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sign up for your Jackpot account, and they’ll give you a ten-­dollar credit. You can play on the house.”

Elsie blinked. “No kidding?” She looked over at the customer ser­vice booth. She had nothing else to do, and no one to talk to. Chuck was immersed in a game of Flaming Sevens. And she was not too happy, being left alone with her private reflections.

“Thanks for the tip,” she said, and put fifty cents by her napkin. Wandering over to the customer ser­vice window, she obtained a J card in her name, with a ten-­dollar credit.

She had to put money in the machine to initiate the credit account. Checking her purse, she saw that all she had was a five-­dollar-­bill. She counted on Ashlock to pick up her lunch tab. With a shrug, she pulled out the lonely bill and slipped it into the machine. After carefully viewing the buttons, she made a twenty-­cent bet.

Which she lost.

“This is no fun,” she muttered, but she pushed the button again, nonetheless. This time, her twenty-­cent bet earned her six cents.

She laughed ruefully. “Why does anyone play these games?” Looking around at her fellow inhabitants of the dark casino, she shook her head, feeling a little superior. Glad she was playing on the casino’s dime, she doubled her bet and pushed the button again.

Nothing. A waitress in a black rayon miniskirt sauntered by, calling, “Beverages. Cocktails. Beverages.”

Elsie saw that she was bearing a tray of icy colas.

“Are those free?”

The woman nodded. Elsie took one from the tray. She would have tipped the woman, but every penny she had was locked up in the Triple Diamonds slot machine. She gulped a mouthful of Coke and hit the button again.

The machine lit up. Happy music played. Fireworks and flying coins appeared on the computer screen.

“What the fuck,” Elsie pondered, clutching her plastic cup.

“Look there,” said a man sitting nearby, pointing at her game screen. “You won one hundred and seventy dollars.”

“No,” Elsie said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“No way,” she countered, but she studied the screen; the numbers confirmed her neighbor’s words. The words BIG WINNER danced before her eyes.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, registering the thrill. “Oh my goodness gracious sakes.” She turned to her new friend at the nearby machine. “What do I do now?”

He said, “Do whatever you want. You can keep playing, or you can push that button to print out your ticket. Then you can play with the ticket or cash it in.”

She gave the cash-­out button a jolly tap with her index finger. “I’m cashing it in,” she said jubilantly. “I want to hold that money in my hand.”

Elsie ran up to the cashier’s window, where they paid out the money. She shut it up in her purse and walked up to Chuck.

“I won. Can you believe it?”

“Well, sit down here and rub some luck off on me. I can’t win shit.”

She sat down at the machine next to him, smiling expansively as the cocktail waitress approached them. It was the same woman who provided Elsie her soda earlier, a trim woman in her early forties with frosted highlights in her lacquered hair.

“Can I get you guys something?”

Chuck looked up at her, morose. “I’ll take a bottled water.”

“You want another Coke, honey?” the woman asked Elsie.

“No, I think I’ll have something else. Bring me a gin and tonic.” She turned back to the slot machine, slipped a twenty-­dollar bill into it, and watched it light up.