Day Twenty-Eight

Day 28: 29 Aug 2010

Still driving the stolen Lexus.



Cassie wanted to go back for her Thunderbird -- apparently, her dad gave it to her -- but I convinced her it wasn't a good idea. If those guys with the bad suits and Russian accents could find us at the El Cortez, chances are other people could do the same.

We spent most of today at a shitty motor lodge about twenty miles outside of Vegas -- Cassie fully planned to keep me out of town. Her run-in with Jared had scared the shit out of her.

She called her contact at noon -- one of the last two guys from her "group." The guy insisted on meeting in Vegas, and Cassie planned to go alone and convince the guy to meet with me outside of the city limits. I insisted on tagging along, though, finally taking the Lexus' keys and driving us to the Stratosphere myself (thanks, in-dash GPS). The guy said he'd meet us out in front of the casino, then lead us to somewhere "secure" where we could talk.

I needed some air. I stepped out of the Lexus and parked myself on a bench just next to it to have a smoke (yep, I think I've officially started again). That's when I took the video of the limo sliding by the Lexus. Also when I took this one:



See the dude drunkenly dancing around with his shirt off? Yeah. That's our contact.

Shit. I should've stayed in Wilmington.

Just before midnight, after dancing through the Stratosphere's taxi area three times, the guy hopped in the back of the Lexus.

"Dane Harris, pHD," he introduced himself. "Cassie, put your foot down. Head for the South Strip."