“What do you see?”
“The casino’s kitchen.”
“Why are you there?”
“I need to clean out my work locker. I didn’t get a chance to do it earlier because Gerald had security escort me out of the casino.” Priscilla’s voice sounded tired.
This couldn’t be easy for Priscilla to experience all over again. Luc wanted to cover her clenched hands with his own as they listened to her recollection, but her stiff posture made him decide not to follow through.
“Are the lockers near the kitchen?” Dr. Devins’s questions gently pulled the narrative of that night from Priscilla’s memories.
“Not exactly. I want to avoid being seen by my former boss, Gerald. I take a shortcut through the catering kitchen. It’s closed for the night and right across from the staff locker room.”
“Are you at your locker now?”
“Yes, the coast is clear. I grab my extra clothes and personal items, and stuff them into the reusable shopping bag I keep in my locker.” The tenor of Priscilla’s voice changed slightly, taking on a note of anxiety.
“What’s happening now?”
“As I’m leaving the locker room, I hear voices. One of them is Gerald. I don’t want him to see me. I decide to leave through the kitchen.” Her breath came faster on the tape.
“It’s okay, Priscilla,” Dr. Devins said.
“They’re talking loudly. I’d better hide in case they come in and find me. If they catch me sneaking around, I could kiss my last paycheck goodbye.”
A muffled sound on the recording, and then Priscilla spoke again. “There’s no place to hide in the kitchen with all these open shelves.”
“Tell me what you see.”
“Oh, thank God. There’s a room-service cart tucked into a corner. It’s not supposed to be there, but it has a floor-length skirt. I think I can fit underneath. I’m going to hide there. But the door to the kitchen is opening. Please, don’t let them find me.”
“Who’s in the kitchen with you?”
“Gerald, one of the poker dealers and a woman who works as a service provider.”
Priscilla’s face drained of color as she listened to her voice on the tape. Luc held out his hand toward her, and she placed her hand in his.
“Service provider?” Dr. Devins’s voice remained calm.
“A service provider is another name for high-priced escorts. I think her name is Cassandra.”
“What was the dealer’s name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Focus on the conversation. What are they saying?”
Priscilla groaned on the tape. “They’re arguing, something about a plan to cheat a high roller.”
“Can you see them?”
“Yes, they’re standing to the left of the door, so no one walking by could see them from the hallway.”
“But you can see them,” Dr. Devins said.
“I’m peeking through an opening in the drape.” Priscilla’s voice hitched on the tape.
“Are they still arguing?”
“No. Someone else is here with them.”
“Can you describe the person?”
“A man, about six feet tall. He’s wearing jeans and a black turtleneck. He’s got dark brown hair, is clean-shaven and has on dark sunglasses, the ones with the mirror reflection.”
“Aviator glasses?”
“Yes, like those. Strange, because it’s late.”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Around four thirty in the morning.” Priscilla cleared her throat. “Gerald’s speaking, and he sounds angry.”
“What’s he saying?”
“He keeps calling the guy ‘buddy,’ and telling him to leave the kitchen. The man only smiles at Gerald. Not a very nice smile at all. I’m suddenly cold.”
“What else do you notice, Priscilla?”
“That the stranger has on black leather gloves. It’s much too hot for gloves.”
Priscilla gripped Luc’s hand tightly as she listened.
“What’s happening now?” Dr. Devins asked in the same relaxed tone.
“The dealer just told the man to leave, but the man merely shook his head. He’s raising his right hand.” She drew in a sharp breath. “He’s got a gun!”