Dancing With Danger in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery Read online

  “Like who?”

  I mentally scrolled through a list of names.

  “Claudia,” said Ian, before I could decide. “I liked her. She’s smart and practical, and I’m pretty sure Ella thought of her as a mentor. If someone was harassing Ella, she might’ve hinted about it to Claudia.”

  “Okay, we might as well start with her. I’ll call her office to make an appointment to see her.”

  When I called her office, I was told that Claudia was working from home. I hung up, disappointed, and told Ian what I’d learned.

  But Ian’s enthusiasm couldn’t be dampened. “Let’s go to her house, then! I’m sure she’ll be happy to make time for us.”

  I shrugged and decided we might as well try—we had nothing to lose.

  Claudia lived in Toole Springs. It was a nice suburb up toward the north, family-friendly and pleasant enough. It wasn’t as glamorous as gated communities like Lake Las Vegas, where the obscenely rich people lived, but I assumed that Claudia was being prudent with her money.

  We drove up to the street were Claudia lived. Houses here were nice—double-story McMansions with fake arches and pillars, and manicured green lawns and lush green trees. Average households in Vegas preferred to keep their lawns desert-scaped to blend in with the natural environment, but people with a bit more money chose to flash their cash around by going green.

  I parked three houses down from Claudia’s, and Ian and I sat staring at it, wondering if she was even home.

  Claudia’s house was one of the few desert-scaped houses in the street. I thought it went well with Claudia’s personality—she seemed like the kind of practical, hardworking person who didn’t want to waste time and money on frivolities like a manicured lawn in the middle of the desert.

  As we watched, the front door opened, and a tall, handsome man who looked to be in his early thirties stepped out. Claudia followed him, and the man turned around, gave Claudia a long hug and a kiss that went on for a few seconds, and murmured something in her ear.

  We waited till he walked down to a red Toyota parked near Claudia’s house and drove off.

  I said, “At least we know she’s home.”

  Suddenly, Ian gasped. “Hang on! I know that dude!”

  I looked at him, bemused. “How?”

  Ian squinched up his face. “Wait. It’ll come to me. Wait…wait… wait… I know! I’ve seen him in that male revue, The Carpenters. You know, the show over at the Riverbelle.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing.”

  “I don’t. But one time, I met this bunch of girls who were here for a bachelorette party, and they told me they wanted to go to a male revue. So I took them to see The Carpenters. It was really fun, by the way. I mean, the guys took off their clothes and danced and all that, but the girls loved it—they all went and took their photos with the guys. They were all very friendly and—”

  “Focus.”

  “Right. This guy. Sorry. Anyway, I’m sure he’s a part of The Carpenters. I’ll look him up on my phone, hang on.”

  So I waited, while Ian looked up The Carpenters. “There you go!” he said, thrusting the phone in my face after a few seconds. “Jarred Liano. It says here he’s been with the group for four years now, and before that, he had a small part on the soap opera Sands of Time.”

  I knit my brows and read through Jarred’s bio. Something seemed wrong with this picture—that Claudia would go out with a male dancer, after all her proclamations of not having time for relationships. Maybe none of Claudia’s relationships had worked out in the past, because she had bad taste in men. Jarred didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d want a serious relationship with a high-powered lawyer.

  I sighed after scrolling through a few “tasteful” photos of a scantily clad Jarred. “Maybe we’re judging too soon. Maybe Jarred’s a lawyer on the side and male revues are a hobby.”

  Ian rolled his eyes as though I was nuts, and we stepped out of the car and walked hesitantly toward Claudia’s house.

  I knocked loudly, and Claudia opened the door within a few seconds. She was wearing dark slacks and a silky red blouse, and her face was lit up by a bright smile. When she saw us, the smile disappeared and was replaced instead with a confused frown. “Oh. You guys.”

  I shrugged, feeling kind of guilty that I wasn’t her handsome lover. “Yeah. It’s us. Can we come in?”

  Claudia peered beyond us at the street. When she was convinced that there was no red Toyota in sight and her lover had not driven back for some reason, she smiled politely at us and nodded. “Sure, come in. I assume you are here to talk to me about Ella?”

  “I’m afraid so,” I said half-apologetically as I followed her inside.

  Claudia’s place looked as if it had been decorated by a professional who’d been instructed to keep things neutral and unfussy. The front door opened onto a small foyer, and the door to our right led to a small formal living room. Opposite us, the foyer narrowed into a hallway, and on our left was a door that I assumed led to the garage.

  We turned right and followed Claudia into the living room. A dark abstract print rug lay on the floor, and dark leather sofas and an Andy Warhol print lent the room an air of comfy modernity.

  We sat opposite each other on the leather sofas. There was a large leather handbag next to Claudia on the floor, and from where I sat, I could see files peeking out of it. I assumed she must’ve brought some cases home to work on.

  Almost as soon as we sat down, Claudia’s cell phone rang. “Excuse me,” she said to us, “I’ll be right back.”

  She answered the phone and walked out of the room, heading somewhere private. “No, this isn’t a bad time at all,” I heard her say as she walked out.

  Ian and I sat nervously in silence, waiting for her to come back. A few minutes later, we heard footsteps in the hallway, and Claudia’s voice speaking into the phone. “It’s not a problem at all,” she was saying. “Absolutely. You can count on me.”

  She hung up and entered the room, smiled at us, and then sat down opposite us again. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I’m working from home today, and the calls never stop coming.”

  “I guess you can do other things when you work from home, too,” Ian said, raising one eyebrow at her. “Like meeting handsome men.”

  Claudia laughed, suddenly looking a bit uneasy. “Oh, you guys must’ve seen Jarred leaving. He, uh, stopped by to pick up some papers.”

  “And yet,” Ian said with a smile, “he wasn’t carrying any papers when we saw him leave.”

  Claudia laughed and the color rose on her cheeks. “So sue me. It was nice to see him in the middle of the day—it’s hard to make time for relationships when you’re always so busy with work.”

  “Really?” said Ian. “What work does he do?”

  Claudia looked at us hesitantly. “Uh… he’s… um… a law student.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “And how did you meet?”

  “He was there at one of those law student-practitioner dinners. We clicked instantly.” She smiled, obviously recalling that night. “It was just over a year ago.”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance. I wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth, but if she was, I’d actually been kind of close with my guess that he was a lawyer who danced on the side. Many students in Vegas have side jobs in the casino business.

  Ian said, “Does Jarred have any hobbies?”

  Claudia looked at him stonily. “What do you mean?”

  “You know,” said Ian, “like dancing, or entertaining women out on a girls’ night?”

  The annoyance left Claudia’s face and was replaced by a look of exasperation. She rolled her eyes and sighed. “So, you found out he’s in The Carpenters. I never thought you’d be prudes.”

  “We’re not,” I said quickly. “We were just wondering if you knew about it.”

  Claudia nodded. “He’s smart, but he needed a way to put himself through college.”

  “Are
you two… serious?”

  Claudia looked down and fiddled with her skirt. “I’m not sure. I mean,” she said, looking into my eyes again, “I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time. I need to take it slow—I need my time to figure things out.”

  “That’s true,” I said, remembering how Claudia had previously told us that she wasn’t seeing anyone. “And is that why you’re keeping Jarred a secret?”

  “Sort of,” she admitted, “but also, people might laugh at my dating such a handsome younger man. They might think I’m a—you know, a cougar or something like that.”

  “It’s not such a big deal these days if people think that.”

  Claudia relaxed suddenly. “No, I guess not. Anyway, I’m assuming you two didn’t come here to chat about my relationship status?”

  “No,” Ian said, “we were wondering if you knew anything about Ella being harassed by someone.”

  Claudia shook her head immediately. “No, she never mentioned anything like that to me.”

  “You never saw anything suspicious? Maybe someone saying something to Ella, or her being upset sometime?”

  Claudia shook her head again. “Nope. And if she really was being harassed, wouldn’t she have complained to one of the other associates, instead of to me? Besides, she seemed reasonably happy with work.”

  “What about her relationship with Sam?” said Ian. “The two of them worked together a lot.”

  Claudia looked at us seriously. “I can tell you for a fact that there was nothing romantic between Sam and Ella.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Claudia shook her head. “Sam’s got his faults, but dating associates is not one of them.”

  “What faults?” I said quickly.

  “Well.” Claudia looked at me and hesitated. “This is all confidential, right?” I nodded. “The thing is, I didn’t like his money habits. And I always suspected that he was trying to get me to leave the firm—we never got along. But Sam and Ella weren’t that close, not the way you two are thinking. They worked together on a few cases. That was it.”

  We asked her a bit more about Ella. Could she think of anyone Ella had argued with, or had Ella seemed upset anytime recently? But Claudia couldn’t tell us anything new, and in the end, when she got yet another client phone call, Ian and I thanked her and left her to her work.

  After we stepped into the car, I turned on the aircon, closed my eyes and tried to think. Who else was there? Maybe Ronan had misheard what Ella had said; maybe she wasn’t being harassed at work. Heck, maybe the whole thing really was just a wild goose chase.

  And then, next to me in the passenger seat, Ian said, “Bingo!”

  I opened my eyes and looked at him curiously. He was scrolling through his smartphone intently, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

  I said, “What?”

  “Look!” Ian showed me the screen on his phone, but then he turned it back before I could really see anything.

  “What?” I repeated.

  “I did another search on Keith,” Ian said, his words gushing out quickly. “I couldn’t find anything on social media, but then I found his email address associated with a comment he’d left on this blog post. There was a Gravatar linked to the comment, which was linked to the email, and I did an image search on the Gravatar. Turns out, that image’s being used as the profile pic on an anonymous Twitter account!”

  “Slow down.” Most of Ian’s words weren’t quite making sense to me. “You’re saying Keith’s got an anonymous Twitter account?”

  “I’m sure it’s Keith’s. The account handle is ‘Honest Lawyer.’”

  I hurried over to Ian’s side and watched as he brought up the Twitter page. The account was anonymous, and the profile had no other information that could be linked to Keith—but it was definitely Keith’s account.

  “I’m not surprised the account is anonymous,” said Ian. “All his tweets are just him ranting and raving about his employer—how much they overwork him, how little they value him, and how he should have gotten a promotion ages ago.”

  “Wait—what’s that?”

  Ian and I read the tweet together: “Hot female lawyer might get this promotion over me—just because she’s sleeping with one of the senior partners.”

  Ian and I stared at the tweet in shock.

  “People did say that Keith was badmouthing Ella behind her back,” I said. “Maybe this is just another way for him to downplay Ella’s talent. Rob told us Ella was very hardworking and intelligent. And Claudia seemed really sure that there was nothing romantic between Ella and Sam.”

  Ian scrolled down, and we saw a few more tweets about this mysterious attractive female lawyer. According to Keith’s Twitter account, she was sleeping with one of the senior partners—they both always left office parties early, and they both often worked late. In one tweet, he said, “I’m tempted to tell the senior partner’s wife about this affair—that would definitely get the girl fired. I need to get rid of her if I’m serious about this promotion.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that tweet. I frowned to myself, and as though he’d read my thoughts, Ian said, “Keith really hated Ella, and he wanted her out of the picture. We need to get him to tell us the truth about what he did.”

  17

  As we drove over to the offices of Elman and Associates, Ian and I talked about whether or not we believed Keith’s tweets. Neither of us did.

  “It’s such a common thing,” I said. “Once a woman starts to become successful, men start to talk about how she’s only done well because she’s sleeping with someone powerful. They all want to believe that successful women slept their way to the top.”

  “It’s not fair,” Ian said, “but I think you’re right. Keith doesn’t seem like a very nice person. I think he was spreading rumors about Ella. Maybe he tried to tell people at work that Ella was sleeping with one of the partners, but they didn’t believe him—so he kept his thoughts to his anonymous Twitter account. Or maybe he was scared to spread these kinds of rumors at work because that would just get him into trouble.”

  When we arrived at the law offices, we found Keith typing away on his computer while simultaneously talking to someone on the phone. I wasn’t sure how he could do both at the same time, but we waited till he finished his phone call, and then I said, “We really need to talk to you again.”

  Keith shook his head. “Can’t you guys see how busy I am?”

  “Trust me,” Ian said, “you want to talk to us. You don’t want us asking Sam or Rob about your Twitter account.”

  That got his attention. Keith’s eyes widened slightly, and he stopped typing. His fingers froze in midair above his keyboard, and he slowly turned to look at Ian and me. His eyes were appraising, and within seconds, it was clear that he believed neither Ian nor I was bluffing.

  “Let’s go somewhere private,” he said. “Anyone can overhear us talking here.”

  Once again, we found ourselves sitting in one of the small conference rooms, and Keith stared at us seriously. “How did you find out?”

  Ian shrugged. “It was easy. You didn’t do a very good job of hiding your tracks.”

  Keith grimaced. “Maybe I kind of wanted to get found out. I hate working here, thinking I have to work my ass off while some woman traipses to the top by sleeping with one of the partners. Life would’ve been so much easier if I’d been a pretty young woman.”

  “I don’t think so,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “I don’t think you could stand two minutes of being a woman.”

  Keith looked at me wearily. “Whatever.”

  I tried to hide my annoyance, but I couldn’t. I said, “Men like you always think that a woman who’s getting ahead is doing that by sleeping around.”

  Keith shrugged. “I don’t think that all the time. But Ella really was having an affair.”

  I crossed my arms. “Oh?”

  “Look, it was obvious. Ella was sleeping with someone—she never talked about her
love life, and she sometimes came to work wearing the same dress as the day before.”

  “All that means is that she had a boyfriend, or maybe she had casual encounters every now and then.”

  Keith shook his head. “No. It was definitely the same person. She hardly ever came to office drinks or dinners, and she clammed up whenever anyone asked if she was seeing someone.”

  I tried to calm down and see things from Keith’s perspective. “None of what you’re saying means that Ella was seeing someone at work. What made you think that it was?”

  “A hunch,” said Keith. “Ella always got the good projects, and Sam was having an affair. A lot of the time he wouldn’t wear his wedding ring, and he never took his wife on business trips. One time, I saw him kissing a brunette in the parking lot.”

  “You’re sure it wasn’t his wife?”

  “No, his wife is blonde. But it wasn’t Ella, either,” Keith added quickly. “He was kissing some other woman. That was a year ago—I’m sure he’d moved on to Ella by now.”

  I pressed my lips together and tapped my fingertips on the conference table. I was starting to believe that Keith wasn’t just randomly venting and badmouthing Ella; he really believed that she had been sleeping with Sam. But just because he believed that, it didn’t make it true.

  I thought back to the tweets we’d seen that had made us rush over to come talk to Keith.

  “In one of the tweets,” I said, “you talked about wanting to get rid of Ella.”

  Keith nodded. “I thought about going to talk to Sam’s wife. But in the end, I couldn’t do it—what would I say? I’d have to show up at their house, introduce myself, and say, “Did you know your husband is having an affair with someone at work?” She wouldn’t believe me, and then she’d tell Sam, and then I’d probably get fired. I couldn’t see that working out for me.”

  “Sounds like you made the right decision,” Ian said. “Devoted spouses tend to kill the messenger. I think you would’ve gotten fired if you’d told Sam’s wife. Besides, you had no proof he was having an affair with Ella.”