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guy just because he had found Splinters’s name funny.
    “Fugettaboutit, will you?”
    “Ahhh,” his driver said.
    Splinters just didn’t understand how business was done in America. Hicks had given him good value on his dollar. Rico had no gripe with him.
    Soon they were speeding south on I-95, and Splinters was blowing monster clouds of smoke out his window, obviously pissed off. That was the problem with Cubans, Rico had decided. They thought you cared how they felt.
    Splinters needed to get over it, or Rico would have to get rid of him.

4
    Valentine ate lunch, then called Smooth Stone and took the job. Smooth Stone sounded relieved. He explained to Valentine how a blackjack dealer named Jack Lightfoot had rigged a game and dealt a player eighty-four winning hands in a row. Smooth Stone wasn’t above admitting that he had no idea what had gone down.
    “What was he trying to do, get into the
Guinness Book of World Records
?”
    “It was damn stupid,” Smooth Stone said.
    “How much did he take you for?”
    “Eight hundred and forty dollars. We have a ten-dollar limit on blackjack.”
    “You have problems with this Lightfoot character before?”
    “No, but he’s new.”
    Valentine found none of this surprising. Indian hustlers had been popping up all over the country. Because Indian casinos were not regulated by government agencies, many of these dealers were exceedingly bold. Valentine had heard plenty of stories, but dealing eighty-four winning hands was a record. The Micanopys needed to address it before another dealer “in the know” tried to rip them off again. He got instructions to the reservation, then set a time to meet Smooth Stone. They agreed on seven that night.

    Taking his suitcase to his car, Valentine remembered something. Florida law limited the Micanopys to running Class II games, like bingo and slot machines. Table games like blackjack were forbidden, which meant the Micanopys were breaking the law.
    Again.
    Eight weeks earlier, Florida’s baby-faced governor had sent shotgun-toting federal agents onto the Micanopy reservation with orders to remove a hundred video poker machines. While not a table game, video poker fell into a gray area in terms of classification.
“Video poker must go!”
the governor had declared from the steps of his mansion in Tallahassee.
    Eventually, the Micanopys won out, and the federal agents left. Like every other Indian tribe, the Micanopys were a sovereign nation. The governor had violated that sovereignty, and Valentine guessed that had spurred the Micanopys to put in blackjack tables, just to rub his face in it.

    He went to Mabel’s house to say good-bye. When she wasn’t working for him, his neighbor wrote inspired classifieds for the local papers. He found her composing on her front porch and pulled up a chair. She handed him her notepad.
    “It’s going to run in the Help Wanted section,” she said.
    Taking out his bifocals, Valentine read the meticulously printed page.
    Adult Enhancement Center seeks hostesses to model, massage, and wear Victoria’s Secret undergarments. Must be familiar with all aspects of Kama-sutra. English not required. Hours as flexible as you are. Fax résumé and pictures to (727) 981-1405.
    “Whose fax number?”
    “The police department’s,” she said. “I figured I’m doing them a favor.”
    “Mabel, you can’t do that.”
    “This town is filled with sleaze, Tony. Strip joints, lap dances, massage parlors, hookers trolling on Alternate 19, warming their cans in every hotel bar. It’s disgusting.”
    “You still can’t print the police department’s fax number.”
    “Spoilsport.”
    “By the way, I took the job with the Micanopys.”
    She hesitated. “I guess you didn’t hear from Kat.”
    “No.”
    Together, they walked down her front path. If his situation had one silver lining, it was that Mabel had shown little resentment toward his romance with Kat. She’d stuck by him, and now that his head had