Bloody Seven of Spades 1: Life and Death

The next morning, Levi got up later than usual, and didn't get out of bed until the aroma of freshly brewed coffee made his heart itch.He put on his T-shirt, and as he shuffled towards the kitchen, he rubbed his sleepy eyes with the heels of his palms.

A glasshouse-style breakfast nook is bathed in sunlight and overlooks the Strip.Stanton sat eating and reading the Las Vegas Review-Journal—his daily routine.Levi stood at the door watching him.

Martin once joked that Stanton looked like a Disney prince, and he wasn't exaggerating: tanned by the Vegas sun, thick brown hair pulled back in a classic style, blue eyes Complete with unbelievably long lashes.He even has an actual dimple on his chin that Levi never gets tired of seeing.His well-proportioned and lean figure is similar to Levi's, but his muscles are far less firm than Levi's.

"Good morning." Levi said as he walked into the kitchen.

Stanton looked away from the paper and smiled up at him. "Morning. How did you sleep?"

Levi moved his neck from side to side, then leaned over and kissed each other.Stanton held his hip with one hand, and Levi ran his fingers into Stanton's hair, enjoying the rich, soft texture.

They haven't had sex for three weeks, not because there is no "sex".Stanton's schedule is also full, and he can change it at any time, no less than Levy.When two people rarely find time to spend together, there is always one party who is either too tired or under too much pressure to cheer up at all.The sex life that was originally a fish in water encountered a rare severe drought, which made Levy even more regretful that he canceled last night's date.

"Are you hungry?" Stanton asked.He nods at the scrambled eggs and toast on his plate—no bacon, no surprise.Levy, who came from a progressive Jewish family, did not follow the strict dietary codes except pork and crustaceans.Stanton also stopped eating the two after the two moved in together.Although Levy would never ask the other party like this, Stanton's act of respect still moved him.

"Not very hungry, just not enough caffeine."

Stanton squeezed his hip, got up and led Levi to sit down. "Sit down. I'll get you a drink."

Levi turned his head left and right, moving his tense cervical spine.Stanton set a mug in front of him in a few moments, and sat back in his seat.Levi raised the cup to his lips and took a grateful sip—black coffee with a shot of espresso, no milk or sugar.

"Thank you." He said, happily inhaling the hot aroma.

"You're welcome."

The two sat quietly for a while, Stanton read the newspaper page by page and ate breakfast, and Levi's brain gradually became clear.

Finally, Stanton asked him, "Are you at work today?"

"Don't go."

Levy was ready for an argument, but Stanton said nothing, and turned the page of the newspaper without looking up.He never asked about Levy's case, not only because he knew very well that Levy would not disclose details, but also because he hated Levy's work.He was one of the very few people Levi knew who wasn't interested in police stories.

"At least your counseling sessions are going well?"

Levi froze.If there is anything worse than the topic just now, this is probably the only one.

Levi didn't say anything for a long time, Stanton glanced up, glanced at him, and snapped the newspaper angrily. "Levy!"

"I do not have time--"

"You canceled again?"

"I have to work." That's the excuse.Levy canceled the consultation early yesterday morning in order to spare an extra hour with his Krav Maga instructor before going to work. "And I didn't cancel, I just moved to—"

"When will it be moved?"

Levi shut his mouth shut and looked away.

Stanton took his hand. "Levy," he said softly, "you killed someone."

These words were like ice water splashed on Levi's face.He shook off Stanton's hand and said angrily: "I know exactly what happened, there is no end!"

"You were forced. You did the right thing. But anyone who knows you knows how restless you are because of this. You can't turn the page if you don't sort things out thoroughly. Let Natasha help you. "

Levy shook his head, but it was out of frustration, not to refuse help.He'd always liked Natasha, one of the counselors for the Vegas Police Department's Police Assistance Program, but even with her it was painful enough to talk about the shooting, Leigh. Wei Ning pulled out his nails by the roots and didn't want to say anything.

"It's really out of your hands. Your superintendent ordered you to attend six consultations, and you only went to three."

Levi was angry and didn't speak.He hates emotional conflicts, and always tries to avoid disputes, but Stanton uses his restlessness to press him step by step.

"Have you ever thought about how this affects me? Every day, I am hanging on my heart to see you go out, wondering if you can go home safely?" After a while, Stanton said.

Levi frowned.

"You risk your life every day, but I can't protect you at all. Do you know how I feel?" Stanton reached out to hold Levi's chin; Levi didn't refuse, and Stanton turned him face to face . "In addition to your life safety, do you want me to worry about your mental state?"

"I didn't want that."

"I know." Stanton rubbed Levy's lower lip with his thumb. "So even if it's not for yourself, it's for me. Can you go and do the consultation?"

Levi pushes Stanton's hand away from his face, but he holds it anyway, intertwining their fingers. "OK."

"Promise me," Stanton said, "promise you will call Natasha today and arrange a consultation as soon as possible."

"I promise," Levi said.

***

On the Las Vegas campus of the University of Nevada, Dominique took steady and powerful steps and jogged on the campus sidewalk according to his daily route.Fan Gumei was by his side, and she kept up with his speed effortlessly. She walked briskly. She seemed to have endless energy, but she didn't stretch the leash to rush forward, and she didn't have a route. Run around outside.

The weather was beautiful, sunny and sunny, in the mid-70s[3], a perfect April day.Dominique seized the time to enjoy the comfort - before long, he could only jog in the early morning, or simply move indoors.If you want to die of heat stroke, there is no more efficient way to run outside in Las Vegas in the summer.

After running a five-mile lap, one person and one dog turned back to the parking lot to find the pickup truck parked there.He took out a towel from the compartment and wiped his face and neck, then took out a bottle of water from the cooler, unfolded the foldable dog bowl, and filled it with water.Fan Gumei looked at him, breathing happily with her tongue hanging from her mouth.

He rubbed her head and set the bowl on the ground. "Have a drink, Sweetie. That's nice."

He carefully supervised Fan Gumei drinking water—for fear that she would get bloated if she drank too much—and when she was almost done drinking, he took the bowl away.After the man and the dog replenished their water, he changed into a clean shirt on the spot in the parking lot, and drove to Roberto's Burrito, a Mexican-style snack take-away restaurant next to the campus.

He reversed the pickup truck to face the entrance of the snack bar, and let the anti-bone girl sit on the cargo box, so that he could see her in the store.After ordering, his attention was attracted by the list and brochures on the shelves, all of which were advertisements for some sightseeing spots on Long Street and the city center.

Almost involuntarily, he picked up a flyer announcing that the Hard Rock Hotel was hosting a double-prize video poker tournament.He just deposited the bounty he received last night into the debt repayment account, and he can squeeze out a part, just a small amount, to participate in the competition.Just play for a short while, and stop when you lose all your money.he can……

Just these fantasies can make his breathing quicken and his pulse quicken.He could feel it—the adrenaline rush of placing a big bet, the thrill of scoring streaks or winning a big jackpot.This feeling of being dazzled by victory, even if it is the heartache of almost missing... This bliss and ecstasy, there is nothing in the world that can compare.

He closed his eyes, and crumpled the fancy advertising leaflets in his hands.There is no safety in gambling, he murmured in his heart, and returned to the familiar logic of the mind. "Stop when it's time to stop" is self-deception, there is no such thing as safe gambling.

He opened his eyes and looked back at the rebellious girl sitting in the cargo compartment—she was looking at him through the glass door.She was waiting for him to leave the restaurant so he could take her home.She depended on his protection as she depended on him, and to do that he had to get the mess out of his head.

He threw the flyer into the trash can and turned around when he was called from the counter.

A few minutes later, he parked his car in a parking lot not far from his apartment with several bags of packed food.This apartment is a simple concrete building with a U-shaped floor plan and a yard with a swimming pool in the middle. The building is a bit old. Although the appearance is not good, the neighbor relationship is quite harmonious and friendly.

After entering the gate, he unchained the anti-bone girl; she got along well with the residents here.Mrs. Munoz and Mrs. King sat by the pool and watched their children play in the water. Dominique waved to them, walked up the external stairs to the second floor, and knocked on the door of Room 2G.

"The door is unlocked!" Carlos yelled from inside the house.

Dominique frowned and walked into the apartment. "When did you get up and not lock the door?"

"Jasmin is washing clothes, coming in and out." Carlos had just had upper body surgery two days ago. He was sitting on the sofa with a compression bandage on his chest and drainage tubes inserted on both sides.He stretched out a hand towards the rebellious girl, and Gouzi came forward to say hello to him. "In case she keeps worrying that she forgot to bring the key."

Dominic put the takeout bag on the coffee table and leaned closer to check on Carlos.He looked good—the tanned skin looked healthy, and there were no dark circles under his eyes.He hadn't shaved, but he had deliberately grown it. "how are you feeling?"

Carlos shifted into a more comfortable position and adjusted the bright woolen blanket covering his long legs. "It's fine, it doesn't hurt as much as I feared. What's that?"

"I stopped at Roberto's after my run and thought I'd bought a threesome."

"Dom," Carlos said, "you don't have to—"

The door opened again, and Jiasmin was holding a huge basket with folded clothes inside.Dominic hurried over to help her take over.

"Thanks, Dom." She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek, her cold lips pressed against Dominique's skin.

The first Dominique met was Jasmin, and on the day he moved in, he really bumped into her.Before long, he helped Carlos find a job at the nightclub where he worked as a bartender.Since then, the three have become good friends.

"I didn't expect you to come," she said.

"He brought lunch," Carlos said.

She looked at him sternly. "Dominic—"

"Is it okay to put it in the bedroom?" he asked, and before she could speak again, he picked up the laundry basket and slipped away.

Jia Simin is a tattoo artist with a good income.Many tourists who come to Las Vegas feel that getting a tattoo in the casino is very meaningful, so the source of tourists is stable.But the two had already spent thousands on Carlos' surgery, and Carlos was unable to work for several weeks while recovering.Although they are uncomfortable with being helped, it is true that they are struggling.

When Dominic returned to the living room, no one would mention that, even if he made it clear that he bought enough for three people to eat in one meal.Jia Simin hastily dug out the organic dog snacks that Wenqing sought after that she bought specially for the anti-bone girls, and then the three of them and one dog chatted happily about the neighborhood gossip while eating.After the meal, he slipped away neatly before the other two asked him to pack up the rest of the food.

His apartment is next door.Rebellious girl jumped into her dog bed in the corner of the living room, exhausted.Dominique was not blessed with a nap.He took a fighting shower and sat down at the desk to turn on the computer.

He usually has several cases on at once, so in the past few weeks he has scoured the web for several other targets besides Ruiz.Most targets are easy to find.In about [-]% of the cases he handles, the location of the bail escapee can be located within a day or two-usually in a place that anyone with a little brain can think of, either a friend's house, or where they work.But from time to time, he will also encounter one or two cases that require more brains and troubles.

The case of Matthew Goodwin is one of them.The man, a student at the University of Vegas, was charged with rape a few months earlier, along with several fraternity members, and Goodwin was the only one who overdid his trial.The guy basically evaporated.Dominique exhausted all the tricks and methods of tracking down the hideout, interviewing all the people Goodwin might contact.But more than a week later, he still failed to find any clues.

He was beginning to think that Goodwin might have left Nevada, and in that case he would have to drop the case.Dominique isn't going across state lines to catch bond escapees; that would involve all sorts of thorny legal issues, and he can't travel armed yet.

He checked the status of each case at hand, revisiting the details of the case and making a list of next actions based on urgency.He has long been familiar with this process, almost mechanically operating it, and as a result, he almost skipped the abnormal situation that should have jumped out at the first time.

There was a transaction on Goodwin's credit card.

Dominic stared at the monitor.For fugitives who cannot immediately confirm where they are hiding, the next step he will take is to monitor the other party's credit card.Goodwin hasn't used his credit card since his disappearance.But right now, the black text on a white background shows—at 12:22 noon today, a purchase of $5.05 was made at a gas station in the north, less than an hour's drive from downtown Vegas.

For a moment, suspicions clouded Dominique's mind.Goodwin managed to hide for so long, far more than most bail escapees.Why is it exposed now?And it's so obvious, but only so much money was spent?

Then he shook his head, feeling that he was still paranoid.People make mistakes when they run away.They get tired, they get overconfident, and for a moment of being weak-willed or just plain stupid, they get caught.This is what he relies on to make a living in his profession.

Tracking down Goodwin was a lot more rewarding than catching a terrified brat like Ruiz.Let's hope Goodwin puts up some decent resistance, so Dominique can have an excuse to give him a little bit of a kick, and fight him the way he did.Thinking of this, Dominic became even more excited.

"I've got you, you thousand-dollar rapist." He grinned and jotted down the address of the gas station.

Sometimes, the thrill of catching bail is no less than gambling.

[1] Reform, a branch of modern Judaism, insists that the belief should keep pace with the times, and advocates freedom and enlightenment. .

[2] PoliceEmployeeAssistanceProgram, a welfare program specially provided by the police for police officers in terms of psychological, health, and life assistance, among which psychological counseling is the mainstream. .

[3] About 20 degrees Celsius. .