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BEFORE

Las Vegas August 1986

Phillip Lanahan drove to Vegas in his 1985 Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet, a snappy little red car his parents had given hiraduated froht the car secondhand because he abhorred the notion of depreciation Better that the original owner take that hit The car was in pristine condition, with 15,000 miles on the odometer, a black leather interior, fully accessorized, with four brand-new tires The car could jump from 0 to 60 in 54 seconds

With the top down, he hugged the coastline and then continued traveling east through Los Angeles on the 10 Froas The sun was harsh and the hipped his hair to a wild tangle of black At the age of twenty-three, he kneas good-looking and he carried the knowledge like a rabbit’s foot for luck His face was lean, clean-shaven; his dark eyebrows straight; ears tucked close to his head He wore jeans and a short-sleeve black polo shirt His white linen sport coat lay folded beside hirand in hundred-dollar bills, compliments of a loan shark he’d recently met

This was his third trip to Vegas in as many weeks The first tiar and overblown, had everything you’d ever want in one sprawling co The cards fell into place, one hand after another He read his opponents, picking up tells so subtle he felt psychic He’d driven to Vegas with three thousand dollars he’d pulled froht with no sweat

The second trip had started out well but then he lost his nerve He’d returned to Caesars, thinking the saut-level instincts would come into play, but his reads were off, the cards wouldn’t coround He left the casino awith the loan shark, Lorenzo Dante, who (according to Phillip’s friend Eric) referred to himself as a “financier” Phillip assuue-in-cheek

He’d been uneasy about the appoint him in on Dante’s sordid past, he’d assured Phillip the exorbitant fees for the loan hat he called “industry” standard Phillip’s stepfather had drilled into hiotiate all monetary matters, and Phillip knew he’d have to tackle the issue before he and Dante careement He couldn’t tell his parents what he was up to, but he did appreciate his stepfather’s counsel in absentia He didn’t like the h he had to admit he admired him

He’d met Dante in his office in don Santa Teresa The space was iloss teak, leather-upholstered furniture, and soft gray wall-to-wall carpeting The receptionist had greeted hiht jeans and spike heels had met him at the door and escorted hie corner suite at the end of the corridor Everyone he caught sight of was young and casually dressed He iined a cadre of tax attorneys, as well as accountants, financial hotshots, paralegals, and administrative assistants Dante was under indictes, and Phillip had expected an atmosphere both tense and sinister He’d worn an expensive sport coat, thinking to show respect, but now he realized the i Everyone he saore casual attire, stylish but understated He felt like a kid dressing up in his daddy’s clothes, hoping to be taken for an adult

The brunette showed him into the office, and Dante leaned forward across the desk to shake hands, then motioned Phillip into a seat Phillip was startled by the uy, probably six foot two, and handsoray hair, direat shape The warraduation from Princeton, his dual major (business and economics), and his job prospects Dante listened with apparent interest, pro in the way of employment had materialized as yet, but the less said about that the better Phillip spoke about his options, nothe’d been forced to move back in with his parents That was too lah his palms were still damp

Dante said, “You’re Tripp Lanahan’s boy”

“You knew my dad?”

“Not well, but he did ood turn once upon a time”

“Excellent I’lad to hear that”