Fifteen minutes later, Julio Ramirez’s door swung open again, and a security guard led them into the suite. It was vast and airy, overlooking the Strip. Stevens could see Caesars Palace in the distance and, to its right, the Bellagio. He stared at the sprawling structure and wondered again what had made O’Brien fail.
The security guard led Stevens and the two FBI agents into a large living area. The scent of marijuana lingered in the air. Two women decades Ramirez’s junior lounged on the couch. There was a baggie of something hidden between the couch cushions.
Ramirez said something to the women in Spanish. They looked at Stevens and Windermere and disappeared into a bedroom, muttering as they went. Then Ramirez looked at Windermere. “So what the hell do you want?”
Windermere sat down opposite the big man. Stevens walked to the window. Mathers lurked by the hallway. “I want to know what happened,” Windermere said. “Step by step, nice and slow. I want to know why he didn’t kill you when he had you begging for your life.”
Ramirez made eyes at a security guard. The guard raised an eyebrow. Then Ramirez looked back at Windermere. “You can’t read a police report?”
Windermere shook her head. “I want to hear it from you, Julio. This kid found his way into your room. How?”
Ramirez shrugged. “Maybe he bribed a maid.”
“Ambushed you. Held a gun to your face. What’d he say?”
“He said nothing. I asked him did he want my money, he didn’t say nothing.” Ramirez frowned, his veneer slipping a little. “He just stood there and looked at me with those eyes, man. Like a ghost or something.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Then what?”
“Then he pulled the trigger, man. Nearly blew out my ear and still didn’t say nothing.”
“Then he ran,” said Stevens.
“Like a little bitch. Like he just figured out who he was fucking with.”
Stevens looked at the big man. “You call security?”
“Fuck you, did I call security. Somebody somewhere must have heard the shot, though. The big guys came up in a hurry.”
“You know anyone would want you dead, Julio?” said Windermere.
“I know a lot of people.” Ramirez narrowed his eyes. “But that’s my business, not yours.”
Windermere looked at Stevens. Then she shook her head. “You know we can do this the hard way.”
“Not without my lawyer. I got rights.” Ramirez grinned a toothy grin. “Now, if that’s all you got for me, you gotta scram, Feds. I got a plane to catch in about ninety-five minutes.”