“I got a phone call,” Matt said, closing and locking the door. “From Regotti. He wanted to know where the hell I was.”
“He knows your number? Okay. Dumb question,” Lou said.
“For my regular phone,” Matt replied with a brief smile. “The one I’ve been ordered to keep with me at all times. Since I have to, I’ve made a couple of alterations so it can’t be tracked.”
“What did you tell him?” Wayne asked.
“That I was going bugfuck waiting around until my trial, so I headed to Vegas for some R&R. He bought it, I think. He also told me to get my ass back where it belonged.”
“And?”
“I said I would, but not until I spent one more day trying to win back what I’d lost at the crap table. He wasn’t exactly happy about that, but didn’t blow a fuse, either. Just told me I’d better report in with my lawyer the day after tomorrow, or else.”
“That makes it sound as if Regotti’s not there, himself,” Lou said.
“Iffy, but yeah,” Matt agreed.