Lucky Charm in Las Vegas Read online

  “She does have an ex-boyfriend she broke up with over a year ago,” Ian quipped up. “But unless they’d secretly gotten together again, I can't see him having anything to do with her death.”

  “What about her roommates?” Nanna said. “What did they seem like?”

  “Christine was nice,” Ian said. “But the other roommate—Mary… that’s right! I almost forgot to tell you, what with all the excitement of getting these delicious muffins and all.”

  I looked at Ian and raised one eyebrow. “You were planning to follow her today. Are you still going to do that?”

  Ian shook his head vehemently. “I forgot to tell you! After you went to your shift yesterday, I headed back to Mary's place, just to see if she went out or anything. And she did! She went to a pawn shop over in Winchester, and I saw her getting out of a car carrying a bunch of handbags. I think they were designer ones. And then, I walked past the pawn shop and looked in, and I saw her showing the man at the counter a bunch of jewelry.”

  “Maybe she's having money troubles.”

  Ian shook his head. “No, something just seemed off about the whole thing. For one, Mary dresses in all black, and she has that kind of goth or emo thing going on, whatever you call it these days. I can't imagine her carrying those colorful bags that she took into the pawn shop, or wearing the sort of jewelry she was trying to unload.”

  “Okay,” I admitted. “It sounds a bit off. But maybe this all-black thing is new to her, maybe she used to wear colorful clothes and bags.”

  “But expensive designer bags? And the jewelry looked expensive, too.”

  “That is suspicious,” I admitted. “How would she able to afford designer bags and jewelry?”

  “Mary wouldn't talk to us when we went to interview her,” Ian said to Nanna. “She kept giving us monosyllabic replies. And she kept saying no to everything—that she didn't know anything about Charlene, and that she didn't know anyone who could hurt her. But I don't think she's telling us the truth. I wouldn’t normally care about her pawning all these bags, but going to the pawn shop right after we went to talk to her? Something doesn't add up.”

  Nanna nodded sagely. “You're absolutely right. I think it was a good thing you followed Mary last night, instead of waiting for today. She ran off to the pawn shop right after you talked to her, so maybe these are things she needed to get rid of—maybe your showing up scared her.”

  “She didn't look all that scared when we showed up,” I said. “She had that kind of arrogant, dismissive look that young kids have these days.”

  “That might all be an act,” Wes said. “I've known lots of people who act extra tough when they get nervous or worried.”

  “We should go and talk to her again, maybe later today,” Ian said.

  I was just about to agree, when Nanna said, “That's not going to help! If she was rude and dismissive the first time you talked to her, she's not going to cooperate the next time.”

  “Maybe we should go see the pawn shop,” Ian suggested. “We could talk to the man there, and have a look at the things Mary pawned.”

  “I’ve got an even better idea,” Nanna said. “We should break into her apartment.”

  Wes looked at Nanna, a slightly shocked expression on his face. “That would be illegal!”

  “Only if we get caught,” Nanna said. She didn't seem to realize that she wasn't being logical. “I know Tiffany has this incredible set of lock picks, and she can break into buildings quite easily.”

  “And Mary lives in a pretty old building,” Ian said, getting caught up by Nanna's enthusiasm. “I'm sure it would be easy to break in. And her stairs go up on the outside, so one of us could easily stand guard in case Mary comes back.”

  “When is she likely to be out?” Nanna said.

  “Hang on!” I held up my hands, interrupting their break-in plans. “Wes is right—this is illegal.”

  “You're no fun!” Nanna said. “Do you want to solve this case or not?”

  “I know Tiffany and Ian need to solve the case,” Wes said. “But it's not a good idea to break into someone's apartment just because you saw them at a pawn shop.”

  “You're right,” Nanna said, agreeing with Wes suddenly. But then, she turned to me, and dropped me a heavy wink.

  I sighed. Nanna wasn't about to give up on this idea of hers, and I knew that she would bring it up again.

  “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Wes said to me.

  “I think I'm going to run a couple of errands, and then, I'm going to talk to Charlene's ex-boyfriend at the Treasury in the afternoon. I asked around last night, and I know that his shift starts after lunch. I'm trying to time it so that I can talk to him, and then head straight to my own shift.”

  “We're going to go to yoga class with Karma,” Nanna said. “And after that, we’re having lunch with her and Glenn. Why don't Ian and you come along?”

  “I would like that,” I said. Glenn’s cooking was hard to turn down. I turned to Ian. “What about you?”

  Ian chewed his lip, and I knew he was wondering whether or not he should abandon Tariq. “I think that's a good idea,” he said finally. “But maybe we should head over to Glenn’s a bit early, and help him get things ready. I've got a friend who wouldn't mind having some leftovers for lunch—it's the least I could do for him,” he added, looking at me. I knew that he meant he’d try to repay Tariq for all the cooking he'd done the night before.

  “I'm sure Glenn would be happy to cook a bit extra for your friend,” Wes said. “Then it’s settled—we’ll see you guys after we get back from the yoga class.”

  Chapter 12

  After a delicious lunch at Glenn's, Ian and I headed back to our apartments. Glenn had packed some leftovers for Ian's “friend,” but nobody pried too much about who this friend was. I spent some time cleaning out my apartment, and then I grabbed the bag I took with me to work, and speed-walked over to the Treasury.

  Christine had described Charlene's ex, Vince Valmary, as extremely good-looking, and I recognized him as soon as we neared the valet station.

  Vince was tall with broad shoulders and sandy brown hair. His eyes were green, specked with gold, and he had a mesmerizing smile. I watched as he handed over the keys to a sixty-something-year-old woman, pocketed a hefty tip, and then glanced over to us.

  Ian and I took this as our cue, and walked over and introduced ourselves.

  After the introductions were made, Vince looked at me and Ian curiously. “You don't really look like private investigators. Aren't they supposed to be angry middle-aged men who call all women ‘dames?’”

  I smiled and shook my head. “Only in film noir flicks. Ian and I have been doing this for a while now, and it's nothing like what you see in the movies.”

  Vince nodded. “I've got a few minutes to chat. I'll let my supervisor know I'm taking a five-minute break, and then I can help you out.”

  We waited near the entrance of the Treasury, until Vince came back, and gave us his undivided attention.

  “What did you want to know?” he said, focusing his mesmerizing green eyes on me. “I hadn’t talked to Charlene in a while, so there might not be too much I can say.”

  “But I heard you and Charlene had gotten together again,” Ian bluffed. “Weren’t you guys having a secret affair?”

  Vince turned to Ian, a puzzled look on his face. “No, I'm dating Mindy, a waitress I met over in Summerlin. Mindy and I’ve been together for three months now, and I haven't talked to Charlene in over a year. Who’s been feeding you those rumors?”

  “Someone must've gotten confused,” I said quickly. “So you’re sure you haven't talked to Charlene recently?”

  Vince shook his head, and I said, “Maybe Charlene wanted to get back with you?”

  Vince let out a dry laugh. “No, she would never do that. Charlene knew what she wanted, and it wasn't a broke young man.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “And what did she want?”

  “She was al
ways after those moneybags visitors. But not too moneybags. She'd never go after those rich dudes who hang out at the high stakes poker tables. She told me once that someone who was too rich wouldn't make a good husband. She wanted someone who had maybe a couple of million in the bank, or a mid-six-figure salary—the kind of man who could support a family nicely, and probably still hang around on the weekends, instead of divorcing her for a newer model after five years.”

  “Valets make good money,” Ian said. “You could have been that guy Charlene married.”

  “But I'm not looking to get married,” Vince said with a grin. “Besides, I do make good money, but my mother’s staying at a special-care facility, and I have to pay for that. I don't have any brothers or sisters, and it's up to me to take care of my mom—I don't have extra money lying around to support an expensive wife.”

  “Did Charlene know that when you two were together?”

  Vince nodded. “It was one of the first things I told her. I don't think she minded, but she didn't see me as a potential husband either—we just had a good time together.”

  “And that lasted for how long?”

  “About six months or so, on and off. We were never exclusive, and whenever a rich tourist that fit Charlene’s bill showed up, she would go out with him. Of course, those things never lasted.”

  “It sounds like you two were a good match,” Ian said. “You were both just looking to have fun—then why end things?”

  Vince shrugged. “I guess, maybe we got sick of it after a while? I decided I wanted to meet someone I could have an exclusive relationship with. I never really dated other girls when I was with Charlene, even though she dated other men. She was happy to end things too, said it was hard to explain to guys if I called her the middle of the night.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “There's only so long you can keep up a relationship like you and Charlene had, especially if you wanted to have an exclusive girlfriend, and Charlene wanted to find a potential husband.”

  “Yeah,” said Ian. “Charlene probably thought she couldn't honestly tell a guy she’d just met that she was single, if she was also dating you on the side.”

  “That's what I also figured,” Vince said. “After we broke up, we would wave if we ever saw each other in the casino, but I've always believed in quick, clean break ups—I don't like to stay friends with my exes, or anything like that. I think Charlene felt the same way. So, like I told you earlier, we haven't talked to each other in over a year.”

  I was a bit disappointed, but I said, “What can you tell us about her friends?”

  “She didn't have any.”

  “None at all?”

  “She wasn't a social person, and I think all she wanted to do was find the right guy, get married, and settle down and have kids.”

  “But she must've hung out with someone on the weekends?”

  Vince shrugged. “She and her brother were very close—I went to the funeral, and I saw how shook up he was. Poor guy.”

  I nodded. “Did you meet Brad's partner, Chris?”

  Vince frowned. “I think I saw Chris, what, maybe once? I'm not sure what their deal is, whether he and Brad are just business partners, or more.”

  “Didn’t Charlene ever tell you?”

  “No, I never asked, not outright. She said Chris was Brad’s partner, that’s all.”

  “When you two were together, did Charlene ever act strangely in any way?”

  Vince shook his head. “Not unless you call trying to get a bunch of money unusual. I mean, she made decent enough money as a waitress, but she wanted to marry a guy for his money—she didn't care about love, that's what she told me. Said she didn’t believe in love, that it was all a myth. That marriage was about family and stability, and that meant a guy with money.

  “I asked her if she ever thought about winning the lottery, but she said that she'd worked in the pit for long enough to know that gambling doesn't work. And I asked her if she thought about ever starting up a business, or maybe training for a high earning job like being a doctor, or something, but she just laughed. Said she didn't have the brains for it, and the only way she could get some wealth was by marrying into it.”

  Ian and I asked him the usual questions about whether Charlene had any enemies that he knew of, or anyone who might want to hurt her, but Vince insisted that Charlene couldn't possibly have any enemies, given how she didn't go out much, or do anything dangerous. He hadn't seen her before she died, so he couldn’t tell us if she'd acted unusually before her death or not, and though we asked him a few more questions, trying to uncover something that we may have missed earlier, he told us nothing of interest.

  Finally, we said goodbye, and headed away.

  “What time does your shift start?” Ian said.

  “I've got just under an hour,” I said. “Maybe we could head into the Treasury and go to the café that's past the pit. We could have a coffee, and think about things.”

  Ian and I headed inside, but then I saw Billy hovering around the reception area, and on an impulse, I turned on my heel and walked out again. Billy had seen us, but she hadn't made any move to come and talk to us—she'd just watched us warily.

  “She's there again,” I told Ian. “It starting to unnerve me.”

  Instead of heading into the Treasury, Ian and I walked away from the Strip, until we got to Jerry's Diner.

  Jerry's Diner is a local institution, far away enough from the Strip to be devoid of tourists, yet packed with locals who work nearby. It has a Spanish-style exterior with a tiled roof, and an obligatory large neon sign outside. The inside is old-school, with gleaming white floor tiles and red vinyl booths. It always smells of fried food and coffee, and Ian and I walked past the tables in the middle of the room and over to a booth at the back.

  We ordered a mug of coffee each and a plate of pancakes to share. The lunch we'd had earlier with Glenn seemed to have disappeared from my stomach, and when the pancakes arrived, we dug in with gusto.

  “It sucks that Vince couldn't tell us anything new,” Ian said, “but maybe if we talk to Mary tomorrow, we'll learn something.”

  “I'm tempted to agree with Nanna,” I said morosely. “I don't think Mary's going to share whatever she knows. Of course, she might change her mind and cooperate. And pigs might fly.”

  We were just about to talk some more about Mary, and whether we needed to follow up on Charlene's previous roommates, when a familiar face came into view.

  “I saw you in the Treasury,” Billy said. “I don't want to bother you.”

  I looked at her and sighed. I thought that Billy would have gotten bored of chasing after me by now, but she clearly wasn't going to leave me alone.

  “You’re here now,” Ian said.

  Billy turned to him and smiled. “I wanted to know if Tiffany's had a chance to think about it.” She turned to me again. “It's been over a day since I asked you—would you like me to help you out? I could be really useful for you guys.”

  “I'm sorry,” I said. “I don't need any more people helping me out.”

  “Are you sure? Have you really thought about it?”

  “Yes. And I can't let you tag along with us—you might get into trouble, and I can't be responsible for you.”

  “If you’re just worried about me getting into trouble, you don't need to stress. I can take care of myself, and I would never blame you if something dangerous happened.”

  I tried a different tack. “I can't pay you. I hardly make any money from my PI work, and I don't even pay Ian.”

  Doubt flickered in Billy's eyes. “I need a job—I can't work for you for free. But maybe I can work free for a few days, and then you could see how you like having me as an employee?”

  I shook my head. “No, I'm short on funds as it is—I can't afford an employee.”

  “Okay,” Billy said. “How about, I work for you for a few days, while I look for a job here? You don't have to pay me for those days. Once I get a job, I won't work for
Ian and you—how does that sound? A free employee for maybe a week or two?”

  I shook my head. “No, it's not just the money. Too many cooks spoil the broth.”

  “So you don't want too many people hanging around you?”

  “Something like that. The bottom line is, I'd like you to leave me alone now, please. “

  “I think I'd be really useful for you at this time,” Billy said. “I know you're in danger.”

  I frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I've been following you for a few days now. And there’s someone else who’s following you, too.”

  A chill settled on my heart. “Who?”

  “It’s this older guy. He's tall. Got gray hair and a crooked nose. He's really sneaky—I almost missed him. But he doesn't seem to know that I'm following you.”

  The description matched Eli’s to a T. Ian and I stared at each other, our eyes wide with panic.

  “Are you sure about this?” Ian said to Billy.

  Billy nodded. “Absolutely sure. I can tell you two know this man.”

  I looked at Billy and narrowed my eyes. “You work for him, don't you?”

  Billy shook her head, and raised her hands placatingly. “No! Never. I don't know who he is, but I told you, I just moved to Vegas. I want to help you guys out. If you're in danger, just let me know, and I'll be there to help you out.”

  “We're not in danger,” I fibbed, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Please, just leave us alone.”

  “Let me know if you change your mind,” Billy said, and I watched as she headed over to a booth a few paces away.

  I turned to Ian. “This is not good.”

  “It's terrible.” Ian sounded as scared as I felt. “If Billy is telling the truth…”

  “If she's not telling the truth, then it means she knows who Eli is, and the only way she'd know that is if she worked for him.”

  “But if she worked for him, she wouldn't just come out and tell us something like that.”

  I nodded. “That doesn't make sense. I’m pretty sure Billy doesn’t work for Eli. But in that case…”