Just Deserts in Las Vegas Page 12

  Ian nodded. “That’s possible.” He picked up a fry and bit it in half. “Do we want to go back and see Abner today?”

  I shook my head. “Let’s stew on it a bit. It’ll be dark soon anyway.” I nodded down to Angel. “Maybe we shouldn’t be taking Angel to see a guy accused of murder in his rundown old shack in the middle of nowhere.”

  “We already did that once.”

  “Yeah. Well, let’s not do it again, at least not today. Especially not now we’re going to say he’s been accused of being the killer.”

  My phone buzzed and I tapped at the screen to pull up the message that had just arrived.

  “It’s Rachel. Says she can meet us tomorrow.”

  “Yeah? What time.”

  I stared at the screen in disbelief. “Seven.”

  “Seven?” Ian shook his head. “That’s no good. You’ve got to work. And I might be seeing Sally, if she’ll let me.”

  “Not seven in the evening, Ian.”

  His eyes went almost as wide as Angel’s had earlier. “Seven in the morning?”

  “Yep. She’s suggesting a power breakfast. Whatever that is.”

  “Oh, I don’t like the sound of that at all.” Ian stuffed several fries into his mouth, chewing and shaking his head with worry.

  “But it’s our job,” I said, hating myself for even saying it.

  “You don’t need me though, do you?”

  “I absolutely need you, Ian. You’re integral to this whole thing now.” More like there was no way I was going out at that time of the morning without dragging him with me. He wasn’t going to escape that easily.

  Angel poked Ian. “Integral,” she repeated with surprising competence.

  I grinned at her and she smiled happily back. As detective’s assistants go, she was at least the second-best one in the booth. At least.

  My phone buzzed again. This time the message was from Emily. She also wanted to meet at seven o’clock, but the proper one, not the unholy hour.

  “Let’s eat up. I want to try and fit in a nap this afternoon.”

  “No nap!” Angel said with concern.

  “Not you, me,” I said with a laugh. Angel had already had a nap on the drive out to Abner’s home, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she had another on the drive back to Vegas. I wasn’t going to tell her that though. She seemed determined to stay awake throughout her time with her uncle.

  When I met Emily that evening, she looked exhausted. She’d suggested a coffee shop just around the corner from her office, and she was still dressed in her business-casual work clothes when I met her.

  “Hey. Did you come straight from work?”

  “Yep. And I’m going back there after this. It’s hectic right now. I need coffee. Lots of it.”

  Two minutes later, we were sitting at a table, a pair of bucket-sized cups of coffee between us.

  “So what’s up? You sounded like you needed to talk about something.” I put a hand on top of hers and gave it a light squeeze.

  “Ugh. I don’t know if I should. I promised I wouldn’t tell the office, but he didn’t say anything about you… so, here we are.”

  “By he I assume you mean Jack? Is he in trouble?”

  “Yeah. Of course I mean Jack. And I think he’s in more trouble than he knows, Tiff. He got another threat.”

  I squeezed her hand again in support. Jack had hired people to look into what had happened to Ryan and then Stone, and had turned over some rocks that didn’t like being turned over. The bugs that had crawled out hadn’t been too pleased, and they somehow traced things back to Jack and threatened him. I’d been witness to Jack receiving a written warning once before, and it looked like now he’d got another one.

  “What happened?”

  Emily interlocked her fingers and stretched her arms out in front of her, like she was limbering up for a big story-telling session.

  “It was yesterday afternoon. Bridget and I were doing a video call with Jack, in Macau. We were in his office. He told me he’d sent me a gift. I was excited, right? Like, what could it be? He told me I’d like it though, and to just trust him. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a courier arrived at his office with a box.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “Yeah. But Jack thought it was the present he sent me. So he’s there on the screen, going. ‘Open it! Open it!’ And I do. I didn’t even bother to look at the box or the details—if I had, I would have seen it wasn’t sent from Macau. It was sent from New Mexico. But I didn’t notice that then. So anyway, I tear off the tape and pull open the box, and I stick my hand inside and guess what I pull out?”

  “Was it a threatening note?”

  Emily shook her head. “Nope. It was a big lump of metal. All blackened and twisted and messed up. But at this point, I still think it’s Jack’s present, but I’m thinking either he’s lost his mind or I’m terrible at recognizing awesome presents. So I hold it up in front of the camera and Jack goes pale. Like, really pale. He asks me what it is.

  “Of course, I’m telling him, ‘Hey bozo, this is the present you got me.’ And he says that isn’t the present. It isn’t it at all. Then we both start freaking out.”

  I had to wrap both my hands around my coffee mug to stop them from shaking. Stone and Ryan had disappeared, and the best that Jack’s sources had managed to come up with was that two bodies had been found at a small airplane crash site.

  Neither Jack nor I believed those bodies were Stone and Ryan. But the piece of wreckage in a box was surely connected. It had to be.

  “Then what happened?”

  “He told me to put it back in the box and leave it for security. Then guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Another courier arrived. This time with the actual gift. Turns out, he sent me Portuguese egg tarts and almond cookies. Apparently Macau’s famous for them. I wasn’t in the mood to eat anything by then though. Here. I packed you a few.”

  Emily slid a little plastic box across the table, which I gratefully accepted.

  “I don’t know what to do, Tiff. I’ve been telling Jack to stay out of trouble. But I don’t know if he’s not listening, or whether trouble isn’t staying away from him.”

  I patted her hand again. “Emily, he’s a grown man and I think this is something you can’t help him with. At least not right now. He’s got security guards, and… I don’t know, an empire to help look after him. I don’t think you or anyone else can do anything except trust him and support him. You know?”

  “Maybe you’re right. But I just… I hate it. I’m a cop. I should be able to stop junk like this from happening. But I feel helpless. I hate it, Tiff. I’m used to being in control. I’m used to keeping people safe.”

  “I know. I know. At least you had a chance to vent. Maybe that’s all you can do for now. And anyway, Jack’s safe in Macau at the moment. Let’s just keep our eyes peeled and try and stay careful. Yeah?”

  Emily downed half the contents of her mug. “Yeah. I guess so.” She smacked a hand down on the table. “Can’t do anything else, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got to get going. Got a meeting.”

  “This late? Something big going on?”

  Emily didn’t meet my gaze, instead looking down at the table. “You know, just police stuff. Busy, busy, busy.”

  She finished the rest of her drink and, before I could ask her anything more, she was off back to work.

  It was weird to know that Emily was hiding something from me. It was unlike her, simply because there wasn’t any need for either of us to keep secrets from the other. Maybe there was a big police bust about to go down that she was sworn to secrecy on.

  It didn’t matter. I was sure I’d find out eventually. When I finished my coffee, which I drank a lot more leisurely than Emily had, I stood up and began the walk to the Treasury Casino.

  I was working until two, and then I had my power breakfast meeting with Rachel at seven. It was going to be a tough twenty-four hours.


  No rest for the awesome, right?

  Chapter Fifteen

  While Ian and I looked and felt like a pair of zombies when we arrived for our meeting with Rachel and Hunter, our interviewees looked as fresh as daisies and as energetic as Angel.

  We met them at a donut shop near where they both worked. Having looked up their address online, I knew it was also a very short distance from where they lived.

  “Good morning!” Rachel yelled with a somewhat manic grin on her face.

  Or maybe that was just my perception. Perhaps it was a friendly smile and my brain was interpreting it as manic because you’d have to be crazy to be anything other than miserable at that time of the night. Or morning, as they claimed it was.

  “Hi, guys,” Hunter said with just as much, seemingly unforced, cheerfulness.

  “Let’s sit,” I snarled at them. Okay maybe it wasn’t a full-on snarl, but I wasn’t my normal chipper self.

  Ian just gave them a wave and hurried over to the nearest four-top table. He hadn’t even wanted to drive that morning, instead taking the opportunity provided by our short journey over to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

  “So, you’re investigating, huh? Carl doesn’t trust the cops?” Rachel was leaning across the table with an intrigued look playing across her face.

  “That’s about the size of it. They want to record it as an accident, but Mr. Watson doesn’t believe it. And nor do we.”

  “And now you’ve got to speak to everyone. Makes sense,” Hunter said, nodding along. “Don’t worry about offending us, just ask away. We’ve got nothing to hide, do we, babe?”

  “No, babe,” Rachel said, rubbing her hand over her husband’s.

  “That’s good to hear. Some people get offended when I have to speak to them. But they don’t understand, sometimes even the smallest piece of information can be enough to solve a case. Just because I’m speaking to them doesn’t mean I suspect them, you know?”

  “Though you are suspects,” Ian croaked.

  I smacked him under the table. They were being very cooperative and I wanted to keep them that way. What Ian was saying wouldn’t help.

  “Of course, of course. I understand,” Hunter said. “So. Ask away. I don’t want to rush you, but I like to be in the office by eight. Always beat the boss, that’s my motto.”

  “Me too,” Rachel said. “Though I like to get in about fifteen minutes early if I can. Just to be safe.”

  “And then you go home at about four?” Ian asked after he’d done the math on an eight-hour workday starting at eight in the morning.

  The power couple laughed. “Yeah, right!” they said together.

  “So. First things first. What can you tell me about Pepper and her relationship with her grandmother? You’ve known each other a long time, right?”

  “We have. Or I have, anyway. Hunter didn’t meet them until a few months before our wedding, did you, babe? Pepper loved her Nanna, even if she could be a bit hard on Peps sometimes.”

  “Like we saw just before we went into the saloon,” I prodded.

  “Yeah. Like that. But Pepper knew it was always because her Nanna just wanted what was best for her. She wasn’t deliberately mean to Pepper. She saved that for everyone else.”

  “Oh?”

  Rachel nodded, leaning forward. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but she could be a real… witch. If you know what I mean. While it was tough love for her family, it was more like tough hate for anyone else she didn’t like the look of.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yep. You know she was firm but fair with Pepper, but with Dylan? Man, she was rough.” Rachel looked up, a half-smile twitching. “And she was right to be, with that guy.”

  “Not a fan of Dylan, I take it?”

  She shook her head. “We agreed with Pepper’s Nanna, didn’t we, babe?”

  Hunter nodded. Not knowing either Pepper or her grandmother as well as Rachel, he’d been happy for her to take the lead, but with Dylan he was on firmer footing.

  “We don’t know what she sees in that guy. He’s a bad influence on her, to be frank. If it were up to us, she’d be done with him tomorrow, isn’t that right, babe?”

  “Absolutely, babe.”

  I could certainly recognize some of Dylan’s weak points, but I wanted to hear which ones exactly they would latch onto.

  “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s… he’s a loser. He’s got nothing going on. No ambition, no—”

  “I thought he wanted to be a musician?”

  They both rolled their eyes. “Yeah, right. He’ll never get anywhere. I even offered him a meeting with a record label, and he turned them down! Said he didn’t want to sell out. He doesn’t understand though, you’ve got to sell—if you don’t sell, you don’t make any money. If you don’t make money, you’re a nobody.”

  “I see.”

  “But worse, it rubs off on Pepper. It’s his fault she decided she wanted to become an influencer. We’ve told her, go to college! Get a real job! But no, she listens to Dylan instead. He tells her don’t go to college, don’t get a real job, don’t listen to your Nanna, don’t listen to your most successful friends. He’s like… he’s like a leech, sucking everything good out of her.”

  “Leeching money too, isn’t he, babe?” Rachel said.

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “Pepper had one inheritance already, from her grandfather—her Nanna’s husband. She got a few hundred thousand dollars. We’re worried she’s blown most of it already on the rent for that stupid apartment she’s in, and funding Dylan. Not to mention her so-called influencer lifestyle. S’cool it is not.”

  I had to stop myself smiling at Rachel’s use of Pepper’s catchphrase. I needed to get things back on topic.

  “And you said Pepper’s Nanna was mean to Dylan? Do you think he was upset by her?”

  The couple exchanged knowing looks before leaning forward to face me. Hunter spoke first.

  “He’d have to be an idiot not to be upset by her. And I mean, he is an idiot, but you know, even more of an idiot to not realize what she thought of him. I mean she straight up told him to his face. So yeah, I’d say he probably didn’t like her much. Don’t you think, babe?”

  “Yep, totally, babe.” Rachel focused on me again. “Did you see the way he looked at her when she told him to go get the supplies with Brad? It looked like he wanted to murder her.”

  “So you know, maybe he did,” Hunter finished. Then he shrugged. “I mean, of everyone that was there, I can’t think of anyone more likely.”

  “But not Pepper herself?” Ian asked, finally awake enough to contribute.

  The pair of them both shook their heads. “No way,” Rachel said. “Like I said, Pepper really loved her Nanna.”

  “But you did say that Dylan’s been influencing her, right? It sounds like he’s had a pretty strong effect on her. You don’t think he might have persuaded her to help him kill her Nanna?”

  “That’s a horrible thing to say,” Rachel said, pursing her lips and giving me a disappointed look.

  “We’re just exploring all the avenues, not accusing anyone of anything.”

  Hunter squeezed his wife’s hand. “It’s okay, babe. They’re just doing their job. Even if they are going somewhere a little too dark for us.”

  “You’re right, babe.” She turned back to me. “Sorry. But no, I don’t think even Dylan could have persuaded her to do something like that. Persuading him to marry her, sure. Persuading her to give him money, absolutely. But killing her Nanna? No, I don’t think so. Not at all.”

  “Thanks for that. What about anyone else who was there? Did anyone else have problems with Pepper’s grandmother? Or could perhaps seek to gain something from her death?”

  They glanced at each other as if to check they were both on the same page, and then turned back to me and shook their heads together.

  “I don’t think so,” Rachel said. “Simone doesn’t care what anyone think
s of her, and I think Pepper’s Nanna always had a soft spot for her anyway. I can’t imagine Simone ever wanting to harm her. And Antonio just met her. I guess he could be some kind of psycho, but he didn’t seem like one to me. Did he to you, babe?”

  “No, babe. Antonio seemed like Simone’s typical type—a passionate man hopelessly in love with her. I don’t think he would even have wanted to leave her side long enough to get up to any mischief, even if he was some kind of international serial killer type.”

  They both laughed at that. I found myself agreeing with their arguments and logic though.

  “No one else?”

  “Who else is there?” Rachel asked, half to herself and half to her husband.

  “There was the old guy, Abner, wasn’t there, babe?”

  “That’s right, babe. Abner. He seemed nice enough? But we don’t know him. We can’t comment on that. Oh, and there’s Brad.” They both laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Brad’s just… Brad. I mean, he’s a bit of a thief, and he’s been known to maybe deal a little pot. But he’s, you know, Brad. You know him right? He was telling us the two of you used to hook up?”

  “What? No! He’s a liar.”

  “Didn’t you go to his party and play—”

  “I was investigating him in another case,” I said snappily, interrupting them before they could get anything more wrong. “But I have a good mind to murder him myself now.”

  Rachel and Hunter both leaned back in their seats, reassessing me with fresh looks.

  “I’m kidding. But only partially. Anyway, you don’t think he would have any reason to harm Pepper’s grandmother?”

  “Not that we know of. He only just met her formally on the weekend, though I guess he must have been in her ice cream shops back in the day.”

  “Speaking of ice cream shops, didn’t she say you worked for her?”

  Hunter put a supportive arm around his wife’s shoulder and squeezed it.

  “Yes. That was a long time ago now. I’ve grown up a lot since then.”

  “She said she fired you?”