The four of them were stunned into silence.
“This is a quiet little neighborhood. Gotta respect the hood.”
“Y-yes,” Frances stammered. “We will. Thanks, Skinner.”
“No problem, Rose. Call me.” He waved jauntily, then walked out the open door behind Todd, taking care to close it behind him. The four of them lunged for the front window and watched as they climbed into that old beat-up van that looked like it had rolled right off a junkyard lot and puttered away.
“He might be useful,” Edie mused.
“Agreed,” Irene said. She turned away from the window. “Joan and I will take the king bed. You two can have the twins.” She hoisted a bag over her shoulder and walked in the direction of the room with the king-sized bed, Joan following behind her.
“Hey,” Frances whispered. “Have you noticed how those two are always in the same room?”
Edie looked at her for a long moment. “They’re together, Franny.”
“What?”
“Oh my God. I hope your powers of observation improve before we do our thing.” She picked up her Louis Vuitton tote and walked into the bedroom with the twins.
Frances was going to have to do more than improve her powers of observation. She had no idea Irene swung that way, but suddenly, everything was making sense. A half century ago, she hadn’t understood the strange relationship between Irene and Joan. How close they seemed to be at times, when Frances assumed they were working on the next heist. But then at other times, they’d be awkward around each other. She remembered once she’d asked Irene if she and Joan were fighting. Irene had appeared surprised by the question. “No. Why would you say that? What have you seen?”
Frances shrugged. “Just that you’re not talking.”
Irene had glanced almost longingly over her shoulder at Joan, who was busy on the small balcony. “We’re not fighting. It’s just … sometimes, we don’t agree about what’s next.”
“Isthatall?” Frances laughed it off. Because the four of them often didn’t agree about what was next. But they always figured it out, and she assumed Irene and Joan would, too.
God, but she’d been so myopic and naïve then.
A half century ago, most people who were attracted to the same sex stayed in the shadows. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for Joan and Irene to be together when it wasn’t accepted in society. When the four of them were living on the edge of society as it was.
She couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been if Joan and Irene had been uncertain if their closest friends would accept them. And honestly? Standing here now, Frances wasn’t sure how she would have received the news back then. She’d been so wrong about so many things.
Thankfully, the world had changed, and she had changed with it. How wonderful for two of her best friends to reignite a love from long ago. She was happy for them. And determined to be the most supportive friend.
The big bag of disguises made another appearance, and the four of them selected their casino surveillance looks. Two worn housemaid uniforms for Edie and Frances, a black vest to transform Joan into a pit boss, and a chef’s coat for Irene. “We’re on our way to work,” Joan said firmly. “That’s the look.”
“Your mom got maid uniforms at Goodwill?” Edie asked as she pulled on her tight, curly gray wig.
“No. I stole them from the hotel in Dallas,” Irene said. “The others, I put together with some of my things and other items of clothing I found in the bags Joan brought.”
“But what maids would be going to work in the afternoon?” Edie asked. “Wouldn’t they have to show up for work in the morning?”
“Not necessarily. It’s entirely possible there are two shifts. But here’s the real kicker—no one gives a shit,” Irene said. “Anyone who sees a maid, a pit boss, and a kitchen worker will forget about it the minute you walk past. They are on the hunt for celebrities and good deals and are blinded by all the neon lights. We are about as noticeable as the trash on the street.”
“Stop making us sound so glamorous,” Frances said. She was wearing her hair in a bun today. It had taken a surprising amount of strength to hold her arms up long enough to put the bun into position and secure it with bobby pins. She’d been feeling pretty good, but sometimes, when the fatigue hit, ithit.
Joan tossed a tote bag at Frances. “You look the part, anyway.”
They all did, really. Their goal today was to return this evening with as much information about the Pelican as they could find. They needed to know entrances and exits. Where staff congregated. Shift changes. Bathroom locations. The layout of each floor.
They walked through the back gate and stepped into the alley, then walked to the Strip, where they split up. Irene and Joan went on ahead. Frances and Edie waited a few beats by pretending to peer into the window of a karaoke club before slipping intothe sea of people moving along the sidewalk. Skinner was right—they were two minutes from the heart of the Strip.
“This is surreal,” Frances said as they walked along. “Remember the last time we were here?”
“How could I forget?” Edie said. “That was a magical couple of months. I was just thinking of Tom the other day. Remember him?”
Tom was a squat older guy who had fallen in love with Edie and had showered her with gifts and money.
