The Phantom Gamblers of the Silver State

Previously

…He found Sal behind the polished mahogany, his movements economical and practiced. The bartender’s hands, weathered and etched with the fine lines of years spent pouring drinks, moved with a quiet grace as he wiped down the counter. His eyes, a deep, observant blue, met Elias’s with a flicker of recognition, perhaps from a brief encounter during his visit with Aggie, or perhaps just the innate awareness of a man who had seen countless faces pass through his establishment. “Mr. Thorne,” Sal greeted