Just Deserts in Las Vegas Read online

Abner squinted, and for a moment I thought he was going to say he had no idea as he had no interest in going over there. But he relented, and then explained how we could approach his plot of land from the other side of the hill he lived on.

  Ian and I left Abner sitting on his porch, rocking away in the afternoon sunshine.

  It was time for a good old fashioned scolding, and Eagle-Eye Bill was to be our subject.

  It took nearly half an hour to get to Bill’s place, and it was an even dustier and bumpier ride to get there than anywhere else we’d been. When we pulled up, he was leaning on a fence post, watching us, a toothpick sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Found it then.”

  “Yeah. We found where you live, Bill,” I said as I walked up to him, putting a stern frown on my face.

  “What’s the matter? Been chewin’ wasps?”

  “Tiffany has not been eating wasps, bees, or any other insects.” Ian glanced at me as if to confirm this was true. I gave him a little nod. “She’s annoyed because you misled us.”

  I stepped up so I was right in front of him.

  “Bill, what you told us about Abner was a load of old baloney. He wasn’t sabotaging the renovations, was he?”

  Bill chewed on his toothpick a little more. “That what he told you? You believe him, huh?”

  “Yes, I do believe him, as a matter of fact. He told us all about your history. Sarah-Jane and all the rest of it.”

  A little smile crept across Bill’s lips, and he pulled the toothpick out of his mouth and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.

  “Sarah-Jane. Boy, that was a long time ago.”

  “But you haven’t forgotten, and that’s why you tried to get Abner in trouble with us.”

  He stared at me for a long time before he answered. “I guess so,” he said finally. “But it’s not like that. It’s just what me and old Abner do. Play pranks on each other.”

  “Trying to frame him for murder is a prank?”

  Bill shrugged. “Don’t be so dramatic. He wouldn’t have been prosecuted, no way. No evidence. No motive. I was just fooling around.”

  “Your fooling has wasted a whole bunch of our time, Bill.”

  That caused him to pause.

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes, that is right,” Ian responded indignantly.

  “Well then, I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget how important time is to you city folk. Out here, we got all the time we need. But in the city, it’s like y’all have a lackage of hours, like twenty-four ain’t enough for you. Your days are so short you have to get up in the dark just to get all your business done. So I guess what I’m sayin’ is sorry for wasting your time. Will you accept my humble apology?”

  He’d wasted even more of my time with his long-winded criticism of city life. Not that there wasn’t at least a smidgeon of truth to it.

  “I’ll think about it,” I told him. “Is there anything you can tell us that might help?” I pointed at the telescope on his belt. “Ever see anything interesting with that glass of yours? Did Mrs. Watson have any visitors that caught your eye? See anything suspicious?”

  Bill ran his hand lovingly over the barrel of the telescope as if it would help him recall, and then he rubbed a hand over his chin.

  “Few weeks back, young couple came by.”

  “Yeah? Who were they? What’d you see?”

  “Dunno who they were. Coulda been the same as what came with you, though. From a distance, they had that kind of… shape. You know?”

  “If you say so.” I didn’t like the shape talk last time and didn’t want to hear more of it.

  “C’mere. Look.” Bill slowly began to follow a path around the outside of the fence that surrounded his little wooden house, while we followed behind. When we got to the far side of his home, we found ourselves with a spectacular view, allowing us to see far into the distance.

  “See that?” Bill pointed to some dots in the desert down below. “That’s Silver Bend.” He lifted his telescope up to his eye. “And with this, you can see it. Here, try.”

  I took the telescope from his hand, closed one eye, and peered through the lens. Silver Bend came into focus, but I began to see what he meant about being able to make out shapes rather than precise details. I could recognize the row of buildings and the dozen or so cabins, but if there had been any people down there they wouldn’t have been anything more than a vague outline. A shape, if you will.

  “Now you see what I see. You get images, you can see what’s goin’ on, but you can’t tell who’s who.”

  “Let me have a look.”Ian had his hand out for the telescope already. I handed it over and he eagerly began to peer out across the valley.

  “So this couple you saw, you don’t know who they were,” I said to get him back on track.

  “A man and a woman. They talked to Mrs. Watson, and the girl went into her cabin. The guy stayed out on the porch. He was messing around out there. Saw him even lifting up those stupid old chairs.”

  “Why are the chairs stupid?” Ian asked as he handed back the telescope.

  “Ain’t got a brain, have they?” Touché. “Well, I guess they ain’t any more stupid than any other chairs. But Abner made those old chairs so I don’t like ‘em.”

  “Can you tell us anything else?” Ian asked.

  “Can tell you lots of things. But nothin’ ‘bout what you want to hear I’d wager.”

  “We’ll take that as a no, then. Come on, Ian.” I turned back to Bill. “And please, no more lies or misleading statements to get Abner or anyone else in trouble, okay?”

  He gave me a half-smile. “Whatever you say, miss.” Then he winked at me.

  While Ian and I walked back to the car I couldn’t help but think about what Bill had seen. A young couple visiting Mrs. Watson? It had to be Pepper and Dylan. Maybe they were planning the trip for everyone out there.

  Was it strange they hadn’t mentioned it before? I had a feeling it was, but I wasn’t quite yet sure why. I thought I might have a better idea once I’d spoken to them though.

  “Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve narrowed down our list of suspects enough for one day.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  On Thursday morning, I was awoken by an intriguing phone call from Rachel Hardwick.

  “Tiffany? It’s Rachel. Are you in the middle of something?”

  Yeah, sleeping.

  “It’s okay. What’s up?”

  “I’ve got something interesting to tell you. Can you meet us at about six? Same place as before?”

  “Six in the morning?”

  “What? No. It’s already nine-thirty. I mean six o’clock this evening. I’ll try and finish early today.”

  “Got you. Yeah. See you later, Rachel.”

  Now awake, I figured I might as well begin my day. As I stumbled off to make coffee, I realized I hadn’t handled that phone call very well. What did Rachel mean by saying she had something interesting to tell me? If it was important, it would have been nice to know right away. But if it wasn’t important, well, then why was she calling me? Especially so early in the morning. Grumbling, I made the coffee.

  I sent Ian a text to tell him to get ready while I did the same, thinking about what news Rachel might have to tell us the entire time.

  Forty-five minutes later, I was well and truly awake because Ian was driving us to Sally’s, and there’s nothing like adrenaline for really getting you going in the morning.

  “Ian! If you don’t pay attention, you’ll never pass your test!”

  I didn’t actually believe this. Judging by the standard of driving I saw on a daily basis, they’d give a license to anyone who could hammer a gas pedal or yank a steering wheel. But I wanted Ian to be a better driver than the Vegas average, if only because I was likely to be spending more time in the car with him than anyone else.

  “I am paying attention. That’s why I haven’t hit anything yet.”

  “Please don’t say yet.”
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br />   “Or anyone.”

  “Don’t say that either! Just keep your eyes on the road, will you?”

  “Sure, sure.” Beep. “Did you see that?”

  “You’re not the road police, Ian. Try and lay off the horn. You’ll get in a fight if you’re not careful.”

  That quieted him down and kept his hand off the horn for a while. Ian wasn’t much of a fighter unless he was forced into it.

  We pulled up outside the apartment building and soon got buzzed inside. Sally shared a three-bedroom apartment with two roommates who were both at work.

  When she opened the door, she seemed a lot calmer than the last time we’d seen her. She’d taken a few days off from both work and seeing Ian, and used that time to recover from the shock of all that had happened.

  “Hi, come in, come in. It’s not much, but it’s home. Well, where I live anyway.” She looked around as if seeing it for the first time.

  The apartment was a little old, as was the furniture, but it was cozy. Sally sat us down on the sofa and brought us both coffees.

  “How have you been?” I asked her when she’d settled down in front of us.

  “Good. Sorry if I was a little snappy the other day. It was all such a shock.” She leaned over and put a hand on Ian’s knee. “Sorry to you, too.”

  “We were just doing our job,” he said with a smile.

  Sally gave him a look. “You hadn’t even been hired yet. You were just speculating.”

  “Ha ha ha!” I laughed loudly to distract her. It didn’t sound forced at all. We hadn’t come here to rekindle an argument.

  “Sometimes it’s hard for us to turn off the sleuthing even when we’re not working,” I said to Sally. “We’re so used to looking for causes and motives and suspects we do it all the time, even when we’re off the clock. A cookie can’t go missing without me wanting to find the culprit!”

  Sally smiled and nodded at me in understanding. “Okay, okay, I get it. Ian, I’m sorry for getting mad at you. Sometimes I forget you’re a professional detective.”

  “Great,” he said, bouncing up and down happily on the sofa. “That’s good, because we’re here to do some investigating!”

  I nudged Ian. On the way over, we’d agreed it would be better if I asked most of the questions—just in case Sally didn’t like them. It didn’t bother me much if Sally got mad at me.

  “Go ahead, Tiffany. I’ll take notes.”

  Like a true professional, Ian produced a pad and pen from his pocket and sat there like a reporter ready to take notes. Sally gave him a slightly suspicious look and then turned her attention toward me.

  “I know you and Pepper were friends in high school, but would you say you’re still close?”

  “Y-yes,” she said hesitantly. “I mean, we’re both pretty busy now, so we don’t hang out as much as we used to—but no one does. Not like in high school. There, we’d see each other practically all day every day, but now it’s once or twice a month if we’re lucky.”

  “That’s the way it goes,” I said in agreement. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d hung out with high school friends. Well, there was been Sophia Becker, but that had been in the context of a murder investigation, so… “So you don’t know her as well as you used to.”

  “I guess not. But I know she’s not a murderer if that’s what you’re driving at.”

  “I’m not driving anywhere yet, Sally. I’m just getting some background information.” I waited for her to give me a little nod to continue. “You don’t know Dylan as well, right? He’s not one of your old friends?”

  “No. They’ve been together over a year now, so I guess I’ve met him a bunch of times.” She frowned in thought for a moment. “Now you mention it though, I guess it’s probably only six or seven times. But she talks about him all the time so it feels like more.”

  “And would you say he’s a bad influence on Pepper?”

  “I…” Sally bit her lower lip. “If they love each other, that’s what counts, right?”

  “From the perspective of a detective, that’s not really relevant. Pepper’s been pursuing her influencer career since she met him. Has that been successful for her?”

  “She says she’s still building…”

  “Right. And she had an inheritance a while back? Has she used that wisely?”

  “She’s got a nice condo.”

  “She rents a nice condo,” I corrected. “She doesn’t own it. And from what I hear, her inheritance is dwindling.”

  “Things’ll work out for her. She says she’s on the brink of success. And once she is a success, the money will be rolling in. She won’t have to worry about it.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  Sally looked down at her feet. Ian scribbled on his pad.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I’m her friend, so I support her in whatever she wants. If she says she’s going to be a success, I believe her. That’s what friends do.”

  Or sometimes friends give you a proverbial bucket of iced water to the face to wake you out of a crazy dream is what I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to criticize Sally’s qualities as a friend right then, so I moved on.

  “Dylan has almost no income, apart from what he gets busking. He’s been spending Pepper’s inheritance. They’re going to run out of money soon. Can you honestly tell me that you completely, implicitly, trust that Dylan wouldn’t try and help Pepper gain another inheritance? Perhaps without her knowledge?”

  Sally still didn’t look up. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I think I’m a good judge of people, and I think Dylan’s a nice guy. He may not be the most successful, and maybe he leans on Pepper too much, but I don’t think he’s a killer. He’s too… soft, I suppose. Too passive to go around trying to kill people.”

  She wasn’t the first person to say the same thing, or something similar, about Dylan. All the evidence pointed his way, but no one truly seemed to suspect him. This either meant he was very good at putting on a front, or the evidence was pointing in the wrong direction.

  “And you definitely think it wasn’t Pepper, correct?”

  “Absolutely not. No way. No how. Completely impossible. She loved her grandmother more than anyone.”

  “Okay, okay.” I still thought that Dylan could have persuaded her—brainwashed her—into doing something stupid, but it wasn’t something to bring up in Sally’s presence.

  “Rachel seemed pretty upset when Pepper’s Nanna brought up the stealing incident.”

  Sally finally looked up again, a little smile on her face as she shook her head in mild amusement.

  “Yeah, Rachel doesn’t like being falsely accused. I guess no one does.”

  “Falsely accused?”

  “Yep. Rachel never stole a dime from Mrs. Watson. She still gets mad at it, even now. Just the memory of it can set her off. And it’s true, it wasn’t her.”

  “And I guess now we’ll never find out who it was.”

  Sally laughed.

  “Oh, no. It was Pepper. She thought no one would ever notice the money going missing, but Mrs. Watson did. It was her. She told me a couple of years ago. It was only a few dollars—we aren’t talking thousands or even hundreds here. But Mrs. Watson was a stickler and the second she saw any money missing—boom—she fired Rachel.”

  “And Pepper never came clean?”

  “Actually, she did. Eventually. To her Nanna, anyway. A couple of weeks back she drove out there and finally told her Nanna it had been her. She says she forgave her, and that’s when they came up with the idea of inviting us all out there.”

  “If she told her grandmother, and was forgiven, why did her Nanna bring it up on Saturday night? If she knew it wasn’t Rachel…?”

  “Oh, that was just her sense of humor. She likes to tease people. I think she was going to tease Rachel a bit, and then finally let on that she knew it wasn’t her. But Rachel stormed off in a huff, so Nanna decided not to bother. That’s what she was like, you know?
Her sense of humor had a mean streak to it.”

  “And Rachel never found out that Mrs. Watson knew she was innocent?”

  “I don’t think so. I was going to tell her, but then everything… happened. It didn’t seem important after that.”

  Could Rachel have been so angry at Mrs. Watson that she blocked up her chimney, even if it was just supposed to be a nuisance rather than a murder? It would be something to think about when I met her that evening.

  “Thanks. And what about Brad?”

  Sally leaned in toward me, grinning. “Cute, isn’t he?”

  “What? No. He’s annoying.”

  Sally giggled. “Yeah, I guess he is a bit. What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know. Did he have any run-ins with Mrs. Watson? Did he dislike her at all? Anything like that?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure that weekend was the first time they met. And there’s no reason for him to dislike her, is there? Not a serious one. Anyway, Brad’s a great guy. Do you want me to maybe arrange a—”

  “Brad is really not my style,” I said quickly, trying to put a stop to that train of thought as soon as I possibly could.

  “If you say so,” Sally said with a look on her face that said I know you like him really. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Sally pulled a buzzing phone out of her pocket.

  “I should take this,” she said. “Excuse me a sec?” Sally pressed the button to answer the phone and then as she began to raise it up to her ear we could all hear the noise coming from the other end of the phone. It was Pepper, screaming.

  I looked at Sally in alarm as the screams continued. Sally rolled her eyes and shook her head at me, as if to say these were not the screams of someone being murdered but someone prone to making a volcano out of a molehill, then setting the whole thing on fire.

  “Pepper? What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

  The screams continued, and Sally covered the bottom of her phone to mute her microphone. “She’s probably filming this, too. It might take a while…”

  “Ian? I think we’re probably about done here.”

  “Sa…. lly…” Pepper wailed on the phone. At the rate she was drawing out the words, it would be dinner time before they finished greetings.