“First, the Hardwicks, Rachel and Hunter. As I understand it, they both have good jobs here in the city. They seem to be an earnest, hardworking couple. Any thoughts on them?”
“Yeah. I wish more of Patty’s friends were like Rachel. Straight As in school, college, then boom, she’s making six figures just a few years out of school. And her husband’s doing even better. A vice president or something. Something highfalutin, anyway.”
“And you can’t think of any reason they may have wanted to harm your mother?”
“Can’t think of a thing.”
I could think of one.
“At dinner time the night before, your mother said something that upset Rachel. Something about her working in your mother’s ice cream shop, and being fired for stealing. Did you ever hear about that?”
He rubbed at his stubble again. “Now that you mention it… I do recall something about that. When the girls were in school. But that was years ago. And anyway, if it’s true, then that would give Ma a reason to kill Rachel, not the other way around.”
Unless it was a false accusation, of course. But there was no need to go into the grisly details with Carl right then. I was just trying to find the lay of the land for the moment.
“Right. So, as far as you know, no reason for Rachel or Hunter to want to harm your mother. Now, who else do we have…” I glanced down at the list to see which name I wanted to bring up next.
But Carl beat me to my next question. “Look, I’ll be straight with you. I don’t know you, I don’t know your Nanna, and I don’t know this Ian guy. Why don’t you tell me about them?”
This was the disadvantage of being present when the crime was committed. Even I could be a suspect from the client’s perspective.
“Nanna and I were sharing a cabin with our dog. Nanna didn’t go out that night—I would have heard her and the dog would have barked. And of course, my Nanna didn’t know your mother at all. She has no reason to wish any harm upon her. And I can’t exactly see her clambering up onto a roof in the middle of the night. She’s fit for her age, but…”
Carl held up a hand. “Makes sense. And if I’m hiring you, then I guess I’ll have to take your word about your Nanna too. What about this Ian? He seemed like a straight shooter when I met him, but I don’t know him.”
“He’s Sally’s boyfriend, but he’s also a friend of mine. In fact, we work together—he’ll be assisting me with this case. Before we found your mother, Ian told me that he and Sally were up the entire night talking. They’ve been having some relationship issues, but after a whole night talking they thought they resolved them. He and Sally were both awake, and with each other, at the time the crime must have been committed. I don’t know Sally that well, but I trust Ian implicitly.”
He slowly nodded. “Sally’s a good girl. Not quite as ambitious as Rachel, but I can’t imagine her hurting Mom. If she says she was with Ian, then that’s good enough for me.”
At this rate, it looked like we were going to eliminate everyone in short order. Of course I had the tricky names coming up—those of Carl’s daughter and her boyfriend, or rather, fiancé.
“There’s another guy, Brad. Do you know him?”
Carl slowly shook his head. “Not really. Patty’s known him a while, but I don’t know much about him. I think he works in a casino.”
“Yeah, he used to work in the Tremonte.” There was no need to tell Carl that I’d caught him red-handed stealing from his co-workers just yet. “I don’t think he knew your mom well, and from what I saw during our time out in Silver Bend they didn’t have any disagreements. And of course, he doesn’t benefit in any way from the death of Mrs. Watson. Unless I can assign a motive to him, he’s going to be low on my list for the time being.”
“Makes sense. Now, you’ve also got Simone and this flamenco guy from Mexico?”
“Argentina. And I think it was tango. But yeah. From what I understand she’s wealthy, and perhaps spoiled?”
Carl chuckled and nodded. “Yep. But do you want to hear something funny?”
“Yeah?”
“That girl is rich, she’s spoiled, and she can buy anything she wants—and she does. But the thing is, it’s never made her mean. Some rich folks are nasty. They don’t care about others. They look down on those poorer than them. They don’t realize that some of us regular folk work just as hard—or harder—than them but we just ain’t been so lucky. But that girl, she’s not like that. She’s rich and spoiled, but I tell ya, she’s got a heart of gold. Always been good to my Patty and her friends. Even if we ain’t as rich.”
I hadn’t gotten to know Simone well, but I could believe what Carl was saying. I remembered her getting shot down by Horrible Nanna when she asked how much the ghost town cost to buy, but she’d soon recovered and returned to her cheerful self. I didn’t think she’d been carrying a grudge. Unless she was a particularly good actress.
“But neither of us know Antonio.”
Carl slowly nodded. “Any reason to suspect him?”
“Not really. Though he does seem genuinely in love with Simone.”
“Or with her money.”
“Perhaps, yes. Simone kind of hinted that she might want to buy Silver Bend—but your mom shut down that line of questioning right away. Simone didn’t seem too upset over it, but Antonio is quite hot-blooded.”
“You think he might have wanted to kill Ma as some kind of revenge? Or to open a path for her to purchase it?”
“Probably not,” I admitted. “But it’s something I’m going to keep in mind. Now, there’s just a couple more. Pepper and—”
“Patty,” he corrected. “I didn’t name my daughter after a spice. And her last name’s Watson and don’t let her tell you otherwise.”
“Of course, I’ll bear that in mind. Patty seemed to really love her grandmother, didn’t she?”
Carl slowly nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, she did love her. Ever since she was a kid. But recently…” His words trailed off and he stared down at the table. This wasn’t like him; I could tell. He was the kind of person who knew what he wanted to say, then he said it. He didn’t half-say something and then let his words trail off. Except for this time.
“Recently what?”
“Dylan.”
“Her boyfriend. I mean, fiancé.”
Carl looked up to the ceiling as if requesting a savior. “Fiancé. I can’t believe it. He’s bad for her, a real bad influence. Ma and I, we had a plan, she was supposed to have a word with Patty while she was out there. Tell her what’s what. Tell her that slacker is no good for her, that she can do better, and to kick him to the curb. Only I don’t think she got the chance.”
“I think Dylan proposed before she got the chance. I know your mom disapproved of the engagement. She told Pepper in no uncertain terms.”
“She told you that?”
“Ah, no. I mean, she was quite worked up. By which I mean loud. Loud enough that I think pretty much everyone heard what she thought of Dylan and her engagement.”
Carl chuckled. The idea of his mom yelling at his daughter over her choice of fiancé seemed to cheer him up.
“Good. I’m glad she got that out of her system at least. Maybe it’ll make Patty rethink her plans. I sure hope it does.”
I said slowly, “I’ve only just met Dylan, but from what I can see he looks to be the most likely suspect.”
“Explain.”
“First, he wants to marry Pepp—Patty, and Hor—your mom was very against that. She was quite, umm, direct with him. I’m sure she hurt his pride. Second, he doesn’t seem to have any income. Although this is terrible to say, won’t your daughter stand to inherit the ghost town or some other money? He seems to rely on Patty to support him, and he could have seen an opportunity to perhaps improve Patty’s ability to do that?”
“Makes perfect sense to me.”
There was a but. He didn’t say the but, but there was definitely a but there.
“I get the feeling you don’t think
it was him though. Why is that?”
“You met him, right? He’s a loser. He’s got no drive. No determination. No courage. He’s a coward.”
“So you think he wouldn’t have had the courage?”
“I know it. I’ve met the guy. I tried to like him, I really did. Patty wanted me to like him. But I never did, never could, never will. He’s no good for her, heck, he’s no good for himself, for anyone. There’s no way he climbed up onto the roof of a cabin and stuffed the chimney intending to commit murder. I don’t believe it.”
“You clearly know him a lot better than me. But due to my line of work, I’ve met quite a few killers in my time. All I’ll say is that sometimes people can surprise you. I’m not saying he did it, but it seems to me he has the clearest motive.”
Him, and Pepper herself, of course. But I wasn’t going to go there with Carl this early in the case. If information turned up later in the investigation that made her seem like a serious suspect, then I would have to, but there was no need to make that kind of suggestion just yet.
“You’re the professional. But my gut tells me it wasn’t him, that’s all I’ll say. You investigate them all though. Heck, even Patty, right?”
“It would be remiss of me to overlook any avenues of inquiry.”
“There’s one more on the list. Abner Beaufort. Patty couldn’t dig up a phone number for him, but his address is down there.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even have a phone. I don’t think anyone there except your mom knew him well. Did she mention anything about him to you?”
“Now and then. Said he wasn’t much of one for talking. She liked him well enough, best I could tell, probably because he didn’t complain much. Ma hated people who complained.”
“I don’t think he said much at all, complaints or otherwise.”
“She did say something funny about him once though. Said he had an enemy. You don’t hear that much these days, do you, someone having an actual enemy. But she says he had one. Some other old guy who lived nearby.”
“One eye? With a white horse?”
“Right!” Carl slapped the table with his hand. “That’s what she said. I thought she was just messing with me.”
“Abner asked if I’d seen him. Huh. I guess I’ll have to look into both of these old guys.”
“Yep.” Carl gulped down the last of his cold coffee. “Look into ‘em all. Just find out what happened to my mother. All I know is it wasn’t some squeak-squawking bird that stuffed up her chimney to snuff her. It was a human. I know it.”
“I’ll start right away, and keep you informed. Once again, I’m sorry for your loss, Carl, but I’ll find out who did it. I promise you that.”
“Good.”
We both stood up, and a few seconds later I was on my way out the door, my mind already churning through the list of suspects and all the details.
I had a case to solve and no time to lose.
Chapter Eleven
Ian was sitting on his couch, Snowflake purring on his lap while he complained like it was his job.
“It’s so… annoying.”
“Yes, but I’m sure it was a lot more annoying for Mrs. Watson since she ended up dead.”
Ian sighed and scrunched up his hands into frustrated little fists, before releasing them and returning them to massage Snowflake’s soft fur.
“But Sally and I were getting along so well. Everything was perfect. Now she’s mad at me. And it’s not even my fault! I wasn’t the one who killed her. Sally was even with me at the time!”
“I’m sure it’s just the whole situation that’s getting to her. You have to remember she’s not like us. She doesn’t spend half her time investigating murders. She’s never—” I had to correct myself. “She’s only ever once been even tangentially involved in a murder investigation, at the spa. It’s no wonder she’s upset by it all.”
Snowflake lay down and curled up into a tiny little white ball of pointy-eared adorableness on Ian’s lap. She wasn’t bothered by any of the upsets that complicated human life.
“And now we’re going to investigate everyone, right? She isn’t going to like that at all.”
“I’ll have a word with her, try to explain. I’m sure she’ll understand. It’s our job, after all, and we’ve been hired by her friend’s father. Even if she’s convinced all of her friends are innocent, she should at least be able to respect the fact that we’ve been hired to do a job.”
“I sure hope so. What’s the plan?”
“I’ve got to work later, so we’ll get started tomorrow. We’ll begin by interviewing everyone. Including Abner.”
“That means we’re going to have to go all the way back out there, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Oh! I nearly forgot. I’m looking after Angel tomorrow. She’s got to come with us.”
I paused.
I mean, I immediately wanted to shout no problem! But the problem with that was that maybe it would be a problem.
Angel was Ian’s cousin’s daughter, whom he had been roped into looking after on occasion. While she could be a lovely little girl, she normally wasn’t. She was a little terror that needed careful watching over and wouldn’t make an ideal detective’s assistant.
“You have to? Tomorrow?”
Ian nodded glumly. “Amber’s going to a conference. She’ll be out all day. I agreed to look after Angel a couple of weeks ago.”
“Then I suppose we’ll just have to bring her along. She’s getting better, isn’t she?”
“Umm. Y-yes?” Ian said so tentatively it was clear he didn’t believe it in the slightest. “I think she hits a bit less now.”
“I’m sure she’ll be good for her Auntie Tiffany tomorrow.” At least I hope so. “Right. I’m going to try and take a nap before work. Let me know if you have any new ideas about our suspects.”
“Will do. I’d get up and see you out, but…” Ian patted Snowflake on her head. She didn’t move. She seemed to be fast asleep on his lap with no intention of leaving anytime soon.
“Later, pardner,” I said, wondering why I was talking like a cowboy before the words had even left my lips.
Two in the morning in a Las Vegas casino isn’t like two in the morning anywhere else in the world. It’s got a different feel to it. An energy. A liveliness.
In most of the world, at two in the morning, there’s something in the air that tells you, It’s way too late for anything good to be happening.
But in Vegas, it’s different.
At two in the morning, the air’s telling you, Two? That’s no time at all. Why not hit the buffet or maybe play a round of cards? Hit up a bar with your friends, or go for a stroll!
And that’s what I was about to do. My replacement, Lexi, arrived and I clapped my hands together and gave the cameras a wink as soon as I finished clearing my table. I let my customers know they were being left in capable hands and left the floor, feeling like I was floating. Finishing for the night was always like that, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders no matter how much I enjoy the work.
After changing and grabbing my personals from my locker, I left The Treasury for the short walk home. The air was cool enough to feel cold after the warmth of the inside of the casino, and I zipped up the light jacket I was wearing to hold off the breeze.
While I walked, I thought about our short-lived trip out to the desert and the Wild West of Silver Bend. Compared to the neon, noise, and crowds of Las Vegas it was like another world entirely out there.
During our one night in the Old West, someone had snuck out and blocked up Horrible Nanna’s chimney. I reasoned it couldn’t have been done earlier in the day, because she would have seen the smoke before dinner or when she returned after we’d eaten. No, it must have happened when she was already asleep.
Horrible Nanna had awoken to a cabin full of smoke, half out of it from the fumes, and tried to escape. I was sure it must have happened that way.
&
nbsp; Whoever it was had clambered up onto the roof, quietly enough that they didn’t wake Horrible Nanna, and blocked off her chimney. Almost any of our group were young and nimble enough to have done it—with the possible exception of my own Nanna. Maybe. But it had to have been premeditated—they needed to gather the twigs for the fake bird nest. And they needed to figure out a route onto the roof as well. It was unlikely to have been a spur of the moment decision.
It was planned; I was sure of it.
The answer was obvious, but I didn’t like it.
Pepper.
Pepper or Dylan.
Maybe even the two of them working together.
With the motive of inheritance. It was the logical answer. But Carl thought Dylan didn’t have the guts to do it, and I hated to think that Pepper herself would have murdered her own grandmother. It was an awful thing to contemplate. Carl hadn’t even suggested it, and he seemed honest and open enough that he would have if he’d thought it a possibility. But even a guy as straight-up as him might balk at considering his own daughter a suspect in the killing of his mother.
Things would become clearer once I started talking to the suspects. With my finesse and Ian’s blunt-force immaturity, we would get some answers that would shed new light.
A streetlight above my head flickered and then died. I looked up at it, as if I could perhaps divine the cause of its failure or fix it with a glance. Neither happened. The streetlight stayed dark and I began walking again.
One step after another. Left, right, left, right. Except that wasn’t it, I realized. It was left, left, right, right. Someone was walking behind me.
That was fine. It was a big city. A big city famous for its nightlife. Why shouldn’t some of the tourists, or the service industry workers who looked after them, be walking around like me? I kept walking, my hand slipping into my tote bag. Inside, I had pepper spray. A cupcake too, but that wasn’t what my hand rested on.
A few steps more and I was walking down the alley behind The Cosmo. A route I’d taken hundreds of times before. A route on which I’d even met friends late at night.
Just Deserts in Las Vegas Page 8
