She knew about the back-room game and the secret entrance off the alley. Hell, she’d even played there a few times. She also knew that’s where the high-rollers went when they had cash burning a hole in their pocket.
The mask was her idea. She’d always been a fan of Nixon — she liked that he was a crook, just like her. And the beat up old duffle bag in her hand? Well that belonged to his daddy.
He’d be waiting out back with the engine running. It wouldn’t take her more than a couple of minutes to round up the cash with a little help from her new snub-nose.
The desert was only a few miles from the Strip. They’d be safe there. Or at least she would be.