A.R. Winters - Tiffany Black 03 - Red Roses in Las Vegas Page 2

  Nathan smiled at him. “And you’re so lucky to have a trust fund.”

  Ian had earned a truckload of cash by being one of the early investors in an internet start-up. After selling his shares, he’d chucked all his cash into a trust fund managed by his parents and an external financial advisor, who seemed about as strict with money as Scrooge McDuck.

  Ian shrugged and twisted his lips. “Damn trustee. That’s why Stephanie dumped me.”

  Stephanie was the latest in a series of women who came and went from Ian’s life. Ian has curly orange hair, a wide, doughy physique, and a strange obsession with sci-fi movies and action figurines. He attracts a surprising number of stunningly beautiful women, who all claim to love him for who he is. All of whom leave him, once they can’t enjoy his substantial trust fund.

  Nanna sipped her decaf and said, “You wouldn’t have been happy with a gold-digger.” Ian started to protest and defend his ex’s virtuous nature, but Nanna interrupted him and said, “That’s all she was. Any girl who leaves once she can’t get her hands on your cash is a gold-digger. Isn’t there a song about that, now?”

  Nanna looked at me, but I just shook my head, refusing to be drawn into a conversation about hip-hop and women.

  Ian said, “What do you think, Tiff?”

  I shrugged. “Nanna might be right.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t date gold-diggers then,” Ian said. “It’s no fun being broken up with.”

  “Then you need to stop acting rich,” said Nanna. “Take your girl out to the movies instead of a five-star restaurant.”

  Ian turned to me. “Does that work?”

  “I’ve never tried acting poor. I’ve never been rich enough.”

  “Not that I don’t sympathize with you, Ian,” my dad said, “but Tiff, how’s the PI work going?”

  I sighed. “Not good. I’m thinking of quitting.”

  Everyone stared at me in surprise. My “regular” job as a dealer at The Treasury Casino pays the bills, but there’s only so long you can deal cards to belligerent drunks and hopeful gambling addicts. I’d been thinking of transitioning into being a full-time private investigator, but recent events had me looking for alternative career options.

  Ian was the first to speak. “I can’t believe this! After all that time I spent watching spy movies and reading detective novels. We were going to be partners! How could you do this to me?”

  “Hey,” I said. “I never promised we’d be partners, I said I’d think about it. You don’t have any experience.”

  “I’ve got experience saving your li—” I shot him a warning glance, and he got the hint just in time. “I’ve got experience dealing with Mr. Beard,” he said instead.

  “Who’s Mr. Beard?” asked my dad.

  “Um, just this… guy,” I mumbled. “He had something to do in one of my investigations. Nothing serious.”

  That was a complete lie, of course. Mr. Beard was a crazy freakazoid who’d been after my blood, and Ian had indeed saved my life.

  “Anyway,” Ian said. “We’d make a great team. You should keep on being a PI and let me be your partner.”

  “You should keep on being a PI,” my mother said. “Aren’t you tired of being a dealer? Don’t you want a better job? You keep talking about how you want to help people, instead of just taking their rent money.”

  “I don’t like being a dealer,” I said. “But being a PI has other problems.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  Like people trying to kill me, I thought. Like people stalking me, and threatening me, and making me worry that I wouldn’t live long enough to see my next birthday. Oh, and the need to carry a loaded gun whenever I could, and go to Krav Maga classes where I had to learn how to hurt people. None of that was any fun, but I couldn’t worry my parents with any of it.

  So I just said, “This and that.”

  “Is it money?” Ian asked. “Are you having trouble with money? Because, you know, I’ll invest in our PI business. And I’ll do all kinds of marketing and get you a bunch of good, new clients.”

  “It is partly money,” I admitted. “I don’t see the PI stuff earning me enough, any time soon.”

  “I’ll invest in the company,” Ian said, “And you don’t have to worry about cash anymore. But we’ll still be fifty-fifty partners.”

  “That sounds like a good deal,” Nathan said, and I shot him a death glare.

  “See?” said Ian, his eyes wide with optimism.

  I shook my head. “Your trustee wouldn’t allow it.”

  “I’ll convince my trustee,” Ian said. “And you can help me.”

  “Surely you can convince his trustee?” my dad said, and I looked at him pleadingly.

  I wasn’t really concerned about the trustee. Even if I didn’t have to deal with any more life-threatening scum, I didn’t want to be a PI if it involved taking on Ian as a partner.

  It was bad enough that he lived across the hall from me and was constantly coming over to make “helpful” suggestions about being a better PI. I didn’t want to make things worse by allowing him to officially invest in my business.

  “We can convince my trustee together,” Ian told me. “He’s only concerned about gold-diggers and you’re not one.”

  My mother made a low snorting noise.

  “What?” I asked her.

  “Nothing.”

  “No, what?”

  She looked at me steadily. “You haven’t had a boyfriend in ten years so I wouldn’t expect you to be a gold-digger.”

  That’s not quite true. I’ve had boyfriends within the last ten years, just not within the last ten months. Jack didn’t count as a boyfriend yet.

  “What about Stone?” Nanna said. “Stone seems to have money, and Tiffany’s almost hooked him.”

  “I haven’t hooked him!” I looked at Nanna, exasperated. I seem to have to remind my family every other week about this. “Stone and I are just friends. Nothing’s going on between us.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure about that, of course. Stone is a good friend and he’s helped me out with my PI work on occasion, but every now and then, it seems like there might be something more between us. But things haven’t gone anywhere, and when I told him I was thinking about dating Jack, he hadn’t advised me not to.

  “Really?” said Nanna. “Maybe there’s nothing between you two because you can’t send him the right vibes. I know some good tricks.”

  “That’s ok, Nanna.”

  “No, really, you need to know this stuff. The first thing is, you look at a guy, like this…” She feigned wide-eyed admiration. “And then you look down, like this.” She looked down and smiled. I supposed she was trying to look shy and embarrassed, but instead, she looked like she’d spotted an empty slot machine that was due to pay out.

  I groaned. “Nanna, please stop.” I turned to my mother. “Make her stop.”

  Nanna batted her eyelids rapidly, giving Scarlett O’Hara a run for her money.

  My father stared seriously at his coffee, and Ian said, “Hey, I’ve seen girls do that. It works. At least, I saw a girl do that once, then she came up to me and asked me to buy her a drink.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Nanna, are you done? Where’d you learn that stuff, anyway?”

  “Cosmopolitan,” she said. “Gotta keep up with the latest. And I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

  “You look plenty young,” said Nathan, with a charming smile.

  “Thank you, sweetie,” said Nanna, her smile equally wince-inducing. She turned to me again. “The next thing is– ”

  “Please stop,” I pleaded. “I’ll take flirting tips from you another day, I promise.”

  “Where is Stone, anyway?” asked Nanna. “I thought you’d bring him along.”

  “He’s away on business.” I wasn’t sure what business it was, but Stone’s an ex-Special Forces guy who runs a security company, and I didn’t really want to know the details.

  “You should make Ian
your partner,” Nanna said. “He seems like a nice young man and goodness knows you need to invest some cash and attract new clients.”

  Ian beamed at her and Nathan said, “Otherwise you might never be able to leave your job at The Treasury.”

  I froze and looked at Nathan steadily. He smiled back helpfully. I didn’t trust him, and I hated him for getting to the root of my fears.

  “I’ll be a great partner,” Ian said again. “Why don’t I start tomorrow, by– ”

  There was a loud rap on the door, and I jumped up. “I’ll get it.”

  I all but raced to the door.

  When I opened it, I saw Detective Elwood and Detective Wilson standing on the other side and I frowned.

  Chapter Five

  I’d given Detective Wilson my statement about the man’s death I’d “witnessed” in the Verdant Wealth Solutions office the previous morning, and Detective Elwood was a fat, grumpy man I’d first met a few weeks ago when I’d been working on my last case. They were both wearing tan Dockers and polo-necked t-shirts, although Elwood’s shirt was a dark navy blue and Wilson’s was a green-and-white stripe that almost blended in with our front lawn. Wilson was carrying a black leather file holder, and Elwood and I looked at each other in surprise.

  “What’re you doing here?” he said.

  “This is my parents’ house.”

  “Hunh,” he said. “Figures.”

  I frowned again and crossed my arms. Elwood and I aren’t exactly the best of friends, and it usually wasn’t good news when cops showed up at your front door.

  “Is Ms. Gwendolyn Dayton home?” asked Detective Wilson.

  “That’s my nanna,” I said. “What’s going on?”

  My mother, Nanna and Ian appeared behind me.

  “What’s going on?” Nanna repeated. And then she peered at Elwood. “You’re Niagara’s nephew, Rupert, aren’t you?”

  I sniggered mentally. Elwood shifted from one leg to another and glanced at Nanna and then at me. “Uh…”

  “I know you,” Nanna told him. “Niagara says you’re a big disappointment to her and the family. Especially since you let your wife walk out on you. Everyone loves her.”

  Elwood stiffened and I glanced down at his hands. He wasn’t wearing his wedding band. “We’re talking things through,” he told Nanna.

  “That’s great!” I said, and I really meant it.

  Nanna nodded. “It’s wonderful. You’ll be less of a disappointment if you manage to get her back.”

  Wilson stood straighter and cleared his throat. He was a tall, lanky man with dark, crew-cut hair and dull grey eyes. When I’d given him my statement yesterday he’d seemed tired and humorless. He looked a bit less tired today, but he still had the sallow skin and deadened eyes of a man who didn’t have time for fun.

  “What’s wrong with your throat?” Nanna asked him. “You sound like you’re coming down with a cold.”

  Wilson looked at her blankly and ignored her concern about his health. “I’m Detective Wilson, ma’am,” he said. “Could we step inside for a moment, please?”

  “I’ve never met you before,” Nanna said thoughtfully. “Detective Wilson.”

  Nanna isn’t a Vegas local, but since moving here ten years ago to live with my parents, she’s quickly infiltrated Vegas’ mafia-like Old People’s Gang. Between them, the gang knows just about everyone who lives here, plus everyone’s extended family. The Vegas rumor mill is kept alive by these septuagenarians, and they’re the ones who stalk the popular slot machines, sliding in to play just before the machines are set to pay out. Except my Nanna of course – poker is her sport of choice, but we’ve kept that a secret from my parents, so far.

  “Come in,” said my mother from behind us, but Nanna said, “Hold on a second. Detective Wilson. I’ve never heard of you. How do I know you’re really a cop? Maybe you’re just impersonating an officer so that you can barge in and rob us blind.”

  He showed us his badge and Nanna shook her head. “Easy to make replicas, and you can buy anything on the internet. All kinds of things.” She looked at me and added hopefully, “Maybe you can buy one of those things to help your love-life.”

  I sighed, hoping Nanna wouldn’t start listing possible internet purchases to help my love-life.

  Wilson took a deep breath and said, “You’re welcome to call the precinct, ma’am.”

  Nanna looked at Elwood.

  “He’s with me,” Elwood told her. “We’re partners.”

  “I thought you were working Theft,” I said to Elwood, as we all walked inside.

  Elwood rolled his eyes. “I was pulled onto this case today.”

  “Well,” Nanna said. “At least I’ll have something to tell Niagara.”

  Elwood flinched at the name and I sympathized.

  We all trooped into the den, with its over-stuffed furniture, navy blue drapes, and vague smell of musty roses. My dad came out of the dining room with his coffee mug in hand. “What’s going on?”

  “This is my friend Niagara’s nephew,” Nanna told him.

  “I’m Detective Elwood. We’d like a word with Ms. Dayton.”

  My parents exchanged a look and Nathan peeked in. “I have to leave for work,” he announced, and took off before anyone could get a good look at him. Running away from the cops, I thought.

  “This is exciting,” Ian said, mostly to me. “The cops are here. Maybe we can pick up some tips from them.”

  “Maybe we should leave,” I said loudly. “I’m sure these gentlemen want some privacy.”

  Ian looked crestfallen and Nanna quickly said, “No, no. Stay.”

  My parents had disappeared somewhere, and Wilson said, “Actually, we’d prefer to talk to Ms. Dayton alone.”

  Nanna gave him a sharp look. “What’s wrong with my grand-daughter and her friend sitting with us? I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  Elwood stared glumly at his shoes and Wilson looked from Nanna to me to Ian.

  Wilson and Elwood were sitting side by side on the overstuffed couch with its faded green-and-yellow checked pattern. Nanna sat on an armchair on the right of the couch, and Ian and I sat on rose-patterned fabric chairs to the left of the couch.

  Wilson blinked and took a deep breath. “Certainly.” He opened his leather file holder, pulled out a glossy five-by-four photo and handed it to Nanna. “Do you know this man?”

  “Of course,” Nanna said. “He’s Leona’s son. Managed some funds for me, and what a stupid funds manager he was. Lost me over nine thousand dollars in three months. And I only gave him ten to invest.”

  Wilson glanced at his partner, but Elwood was still staring intently at his shoes. Ian was craning his neck, trying to get a peek at the photo. “Sit still,” I hissed at him, and he looked at me pleadingly. I frowned, and Ian sat back in his chair.

  “When was the last time you talked with him?” Wilson asked Nanna.

  “Early last week.” Nanna leaned back and crossed her arms. “I let him know just how disappointed I was in him and that I’d take care of things.”

  Wilson looked at Elwood sharply but, once again, his partner sat wordlessly, entranced by his shoes. “You were angry,” prompted Wilson.

  Nanna nodded. “Of course I was angry. I was furious. The idiot had just lost most of my money. If I wanted to lose nine thousand dollars, I’d take myself to the roulette wheel and place it all on red. And even then, I might’ve done better than him.”

  Wilson looked at Elwood, and this time his partner looked back at him and nodded.

  “Ms. Dayton,” said Elwood, “Adam Bitzer was found dead, late Friday night.”

  Nanna’s eyes grew round, just like she’d shown me during her flirting tips, and she leaned forward. “No!”

  “Hang on,” I said, frowning. “Adam Bitzer from Verdant Wealth Solutions?”

  Elwood and Wilson looked at me seriously.

  “You’re kidding,” I told Wilson. “I just gave you my statement yesterday.”

  “Ye
s,” he said.

  “How’d he die?” Nanna said. “Poor Leona. She must be devastated.”

  “He died from multiple gunshot wounds,” Wilson told Nanna. “Can you tell us anything more about that?”

  “Hold on a second.” Nanna narrowed her eyes and Elwood looked down at his shoes again. “Are you accusing me of murder?”

  The room was silent for a few seconds, and I felt like I’d stepped into a bad movie.

  And then Nanna broke the silence. “Rupert! I don’t believe the gall! I’m going to have to have a word with your aunt.”

  “Please don’t.” Elwood - Rupert – looked at Nanna pleadingly. Wilson stared at him icily and Elwood turned to him and said, “Why can’t you work with someone else?”

  “Grow a pair,” Wilson told him.

  I felt sorry for Elwood. I knew the power of the Old People’s Gang, and his aunt sounded like a terror, so I said, “What’s Nanna got to do with this, anyway?”

  Wilson looked at me seriously. “We believe Ms. Dayton has some involvement in the matter.”

  “Really,” said Nanna. “Is that any way to talk to an old lady? And here I am, just sitting here, waiting for my time to come, and young men like you accuse me of crimes. Hunh.”

  Wilson turned his watery grey eyes towards Nanna and pulled out a piece of paper. “We have it on record here that you’d called Mr. Bitzer and threatened him. Witnesses say he was ‘quite nervous’ after your call and that you said you’d ‘set him straight’ and ‘take care of him.’ We believe that the loss of your funds gives you motive, doesn’t it?”

  “He’d better have been nervous! I was going to tell his mother what he’d done.”

  Elwood and Wilson looked at each other.

  “That’s what you meant by ‘set him straight?’” Elwood said, and Nanna nodded.

  “We don’t know that,” Wilson said. “It sounds like you threatened to kill him.”

  “How would I kill him?” Nanna said. “I’m a weak old lady.”

  Wilson said, “It doesn’t take much strength to lift a gun.”

  “Hang on,” I said. “I was there when it happened. Whoever killed the guy ran away. Nanna couldn’t have done that.”