by Claire Kane
“Besides,” Cathy had said when Lacey first accepted the small job, “it’s Vegas! I’d give my right arm to trade you places, if I didn’t have work here to do. You’ll be fine. And it’s on us, so you won’t even have to worry about the expense.” The woman had laughed nervously and the conversation ended shortly thereafter.
Now Lacey understood her friend’s reticence to share. Though the motel wasn’t as bad as some she’d read about in books, and while she was reasonably sure it wasn’t in the middle of a gang war zone, the place was just… cheap. As in, “the same kind of motel she could find in small town Kansas” cheap. There were no neon signs, no casino floor, no well-oiled pool boys offering her towels and frosted beverages while she lounged in a hot tub. No, it was as vanilla as hotels got.
“Look, Lacey,” Nainai said, swatting her backside to get her attention, “we’re in Vegas!”
Lacey sighed, but turned to see what her grandma was talking about. Suddenly, her disappointment turned around. The MGM Grand Hotel rose from the Strip not half a block away, a gargantuan emerald in the night. Beyond it, a miniature recreation of the New York skyline, complete with a looping roller coaster beckoned to her, only to have to compete with a castle that could comfortably fit three football fields. To her left, between the lit towers of the Tropicana Hotel she caught a glimpse of an onyx pyramid with a light on top that outshined the Sun.
A street ran right down the middle of it all and. Now that Lacey no longer had to worry about her stomach, she realized that she was looking at the Las Vegas Strip. She dropped her bag, and before she could think, squealed like a little girl who’d just been thrown the best surprise birthday party ever. Nainai copied her, and they hugged one another.
“We’re going shopping tonight, Lacey,” Nainai said. “I need to get me some new duds to show off just how hot this bod still is after all these years. I’m taking at least one stud home with me from this trip. And you could get yourself a few as well. After all,” she said, eyes twinkling, “you inherited my looks.”
Lacey laughed. Her grandmother would just have to come along for her mini interview with Ginger Rose. Tonight, she’d mix a little pleasure with business. “Come on, Nainai. Let’s check in, then check out Vegas.”
*
The Lings were happy to learn that The Deuce route used an open-top double-decker. At Nainai’s insistence, and with the kind driver’s help, Lacey took her grandmother up the narrow, winding staircase, leaving her wheelchair stashed in a small storage compartment on the main level of the bus.
The women cruised the neon tunnel of the Jewel of the Nevada Desert, feeling quite literally as though they were on top of the world. They passed casinos they’d only ever seen on TV, a few odd museums, and crowds lining sidewalks. Advertisements showcased every form of entertainment, from a monster truck rally to the downright racy.
Victor, for his part, hovered beside them, head constantly swiveling, a permanent scowl on his face. “Ugh,” he said, breaking into Lacey’s thoughts as she exclaimed over the sights. “Be glad you’ve only got mortal eyes for this trip. I’m going to have to ask Rao if she can put a filter on my sight while we’re here.”
“Lighten up, Victor,” Lacey said. “This is fun.”
“Only because you can’t see beyond the surface,” he muttered. “Though, maybe I could get in on that monster truck gig. Where are we going, by the way?”
Lacey rolled her eyes. “The Flamingo, to meet Ginger. And Cathy got Nainai and I a pair of tickets to the Zigmund and Ross show. You know, the one you thought had lions?”
Victor gave her a wry smile. “You know, before I died, I could have given you a tiger show to put the rest of them to shame. I even had the ring ready. We could have come to Vegas to get married, had I known how bad you wanted to visit this place.”
Lacey’s cheeks grew warm. She still hadn’t gotten over how devoted he was to her. Despite their vast differences, he was still able to pull at her heartstrings with his genuine love for her. Every now and again, she’d let her thoughts drift to wondering whether she would have let him talk her into marrying him. And yet, the more time passed, the more she realized he just wasn’t what she wanted. She’d told him as much, but for some unfathomable reason, he couldn’t seem to take the hint. So most of the time, she just avoided thinking about it.
“No,” she said, “my family would have killed me if I’d done a Vegas wedding.”
“I wouldn’t have killed you,” Nainai said. “This place is amazing. I hear they have great senior communities here. And it doesn’t have that blasted cold of where you live. How about we move down here? Think of it, granddaughter—year-round sunshine and endless handsome men to pamper us. That’s a retirement plan I could live with.”
Lacey smiled and Victor laughed. “Your grandma is awesome. The two of you are real rays of sunshine in this hole.”
“Thanks, Victor,” Lacey said.
“So,” he said, sitting next to her in mid-air, “where are we going tonight? Because if you’re hitting any clubs, I might need to sit it out. And given that I’m your guardian angel, that’d be rough.”
Lacey rolled her eyes, but smiled just the same. “Victor, we do intend to take advantage of at least some of what Las Vegas has to offer. Please don’t take that personally. But I promise I’ll be good.”
“And careful?”
She rolled her eyes again.
“You’re really cute when you do that,” he said. “Actually… you’re always cute. You really should have married me, you know.” He gave her a smile that said he was teasing, but they both knew he meant it.
“Yes, Victor, I’ll be careful. I’ve had my fill of devils and demons in these past few months. For now, we’re just enjoying the sights while waiting to connect with my contact.” She glanced at her phone. “We’ve still got a couple of hours before the show, so just relax. Close your eyes if you have to.”
Victor grimaced. “Be glad you’ve only ever had to deal with a devil that once.” He shuddered to think of the encounter with Jack Beals, and the way Lacey had succumbed during that fight. He dragged his mind back to the present. “There are reasons they’re under hard lock and key, even if Legion is still permitted to roam the earth. But seriously, Lace, if you could see the darkness of this place, you’d be on the first flight back to Seattle.”
Lacey raised her eyebrows. “Well I can’t, so I’ll count my blessings and focus on showing Nainai a good time.”
“Is Victor telling us we shouldn’t go see those Australian guys, Lacey? Because if he is, you can tell him I intend to be up on stage with them.”
Lacey gasped. “Grandma!”
“Don’t ‘Grandma’ me, baby girl. This old gal knows a thing or two.”
“Well this ‘baby girl’ knows a couple things herself,” Lacey said. “We’ll have a good time without humiliating ourselves.”
“What?” Nainai asked. “You think something like a wheelchair is going to stop me from throwing a few dollar bills or dancing?”
Lacey shivered slightly. “Let’s not even go there, Nainai. Now please, let’s just enjoy the ride. We’ll be at the Zigmund and Ross show soon enough. I’m sure they wouldn’t even notice if you growled at them.”
“That’s my girl,” Nainai whooped, clapping a hand on Lacey’s knee. “Vegas, the fun has arrived!”
Lacey smiled big, not only excited for the setting, but the start of her investigation. The neon hot-pink lights of The Flamingo came into view, lighting up brilliantly in the shape of feathers. One of the classics, yet this was the first time she’d seen it in person.
The bus soon came to a stop. Looking over the edge of the upper deck, Lacey spotted a handful of people down below, waiting to board. One stood out. A statuesque blonde, her hair in a high ponytail, wearing a shiny red crop top and matching booty shorts, legs clad in fishnet. A carry-all over a bare shoulder, she lazily took the last drag from a cigarette, before crushing it beneath her heel.
“Th
at’s her,” Lacey said.
“That’s the woman you’re interviewing?” Victor said, hovering beside Lacey.
“Who else would be named Ginger Rose?” Lacey said, knowing her gut was right. As if to confirm it, the blonde looked upward, met Lacey’s eyes, and gave her a predatory smile. The interview promised to be interesting indeed.
FOUR
Lacey moved to the two seats in front of her grandmother, so she could sit beside Ginger. The long-legged woman crested the stairs and moved up the aisle toward Lacey before dropping her duffel bag to the floor. Victor had inexplicably excused himself.
“Hello,” Ginger said, taking a seat and crossing her legs slowly. Now that she was up close, Lacey could see splashes of silver glitter sparkling off her skin. And the woman wasn’t afraid to show most of it.
“Hi, Ginger. Nice to meet you,” Lacey replied, reaching forward, and they shook hands. Then digging into her purse, she asked, “Since we have just a few minutes, is it okay if I record our meeting?”
“Do as you please.” Ginger pursed her lips. “It won’t be first time I’ve been… recorded.”
Lacey decided to ignore the woman’s implications. “Okay.” She pulled out her handheld recorder, ready to start the interview, and the bus drove on.
Ginger took a long, slim cigarette from a pack poking out of the side of her bag. She lit it and took a drag. “I’m glad someone is looking deeper into case. Chanel was not only my roommate but good friend.”
Lacey nodded compassionately, perching her recorder between them.
“Even if she did not like most people, she loved animals.”
“Which explains why she also worked with tigers,” Lacey said, referring to the magicians’ cats.
“Yes,” Ginger said, nodding. “Felix and Charly were treated like her own pets.” Ginger smiled wistfully, exhaling smoke. “She was happy they did not live in cage. Those cats live in huge hotel suite. And you know something? They get fed better than me.”
Nainai cut in. “Nice glitter,” she said, leaning forward in her seat at Ginger. “How do you get it to stick?”
Ginger tilted her chin upward and blew smoke, then smiled back at her. “Is spray-on.”
“Grandmother,” Lacey said with a polite smile to cover her embarrassment. “I’m in the middle of business, an interview. Please.”
“Okay, granddaughter, but I would like some sparkly spray-on glitter.”
Lacey glared.
“I’m just saying.” Nainai clasped her hands in her lap and diverted her attention back to the tour of The Strip.
“I’m sorry,” Lacey said to Ginger.
“Is okay. She has good taste. I can get her can of glitter.”
“No, no. That’s not necessary.” Lacey ran a hand through her long dark hair in frustration, then held up the recorder again. “Let’s take a couple steps back and have you say your full name.”
Ginger took another drag. “Ginger Rose. That is stage name. I am dancer—public and private.”
“And, again, for the record, how did you know Chanel Lockhart?”
“She was roommate at the time of her death.”
“How did she die?”
“Police say it was too much drugs.” Ginger leaned across Nainai and tapped her cigarette over the edge, allowing ashes to fall.
“But you don’t agree with them. You believe it has to do with black magic.”
Ginger nodded, her brown eyes looking into the distance as she spoke. “Yes, most definitely it was black magic.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Lacey asked, peering into those distant eyes.
Ginger met her stare. “You know she was assistant to Zigmund and Ross? She performed on stage in their ginormous theater.”
“Yes, go on…”
“Well, she would search Internet at all hours about black magic, after coming home from show. I tell her to not mess with that stuff. In Russia, witchcraft is huge problem. Causes craziness. Make people think they are really cats dressed up as people. If you have not heard this thing, there is witch hunts there now. See this thing on Google. I tell Chanel she would bring ruination upon her soul. An evil curse.”
“You believe she cursed herself to die,” Lacey stated, tilting her head at the thought.
“No, she did not intentionally do this thing to self. But she should have listened to Ginger. Should have left it alone.”
Lacey made notes. “The police reports say that she had Fentanyl, Xanax and alcohol all in her blood. That’s a cocktail for death. What do you say to that?”
“I know what the reports say, but Chanel—she did not act like suicidal person. The night of her death, before I went to gig, she was different.”
“What do you mean?”
“She was very happy. Is only word I can think to describe her smile.” Ginger shrugged. “And she had plans to see Gospodin Zigmund later that night. They had plans together. Does not sound to me like someone ready to kill self.”
“Gospodin?”
“Is Russian word for ‘Mister.’”
Lacey nodded. “Ah. So she was going to see Zigmund at a business meeting, or onstage at one of his magic shows?”
Ginger sucked deeply on her cigarette. “You must understand, Chanel desired Gospodin Zigmund, and not just for one-night stand. She had eyes set on him. We are women. We know how this thing is.”
Ginger didn’t wait for Lacey to acknowledge the comment. “Chanel, she had already performed earlier that night. Had come home in usual dancing clothing. Looked very tired and said she wanted to, how you say, ‘hit the hay’ without even taking nightly shower. Still she looked very pleased with self. I bid her goodnight, then she tells me she and Zigmund were taking major step together in their relationship.”
“So why would there be drugs in her system?” Lacey narrowed her own brown eyes. “Are you saying they magically entered her bloodstream?”
Ginger said with utter seriousness, “Anything is possible with witchcraft. Do not always trust what you see.”
“What about murder? Have you considered that?”
Ginger shook her head no, and the bus came to a halt. “Black magic is only answer. Excuse me, ladies. This is my stop.”
“Wait, one last thing,” Lacey inserted, grabbing Ginger’s wrist. “Did Chanel abuse drugs?”
The Russian beauty chuckled lightly. “What kind of question is that? Look around, honey.” She gestured. “Do you not know where you are?”
Lacey released her wrist and cast her eyes about the city in understanding. She then watched as the dancer snatched up her carry-all and traipsed downstairs with a sway in her hips. Lacey set the recorder in her lap and sagged into her seat with a sigh.
Victor re-appeared in the now empty seat beside Lacey. “What’s the matter? Didn’t go as you planned?”
“Nothing was planned,” Lacey said, staring straight ahead to avoid the worry she knew she’d see in his eyes. “I didn’t really know what to expect.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He raised his brows, moving his face into her line of sight. Lacey glanced at the floor instead.
I just hope Cathy didn’t send me on a wild goose chase of a case, she mentally replied. If the coroner said it was an OD, and Ginger essentially admits to her friend having done drugs on a regular basis, then what what else am I to think?
“Ginger also said Chanel wasn’t suicidal,” Victor noted.
Lacey looked at her guardian angel. Okay, so maybe it was an unintentional overdose. That happens.
“Maybe,” he said. “It looks like to me, though, that Cathy Higgins wants you to follow the more sensational trail.”
You think Cathy believes in black magic? Lacey replied with an air of deep skepticism.
“Not necessarily. But to KZTB, whatever makes for good nightly news could be all that matters.” He set a hand on her knee, but she shifted her leg away. Victor paused, concerned, but let the gesture drop.
“Besides,” he continued
, “we both know there is a spiritual side to this world. Something tells me you were wondering if black magic is a thing, otherwise you wouldn’t have called for my help.” Lacey looked down and he continued. “So, just follow the dark arts thing for now, even if you don’t know what to think of it. Remember, this is your chance to get your position back with the company on a full-time basis. This might be the right scoop, much as I hate to think about it.”
“You’re right,” Lacey said out loud, nodding in determination. “I owe it to them to have an open mind about it all.”
Lacey and Nainai stayed on the bus until they finally reached The Illusion Resort and Casino, a smaller, newer establishment just off the Strip, that was already making a name for itself amongst the giants that lined Las Vegas Boulevard.
They paused, short of the grounds, to take in the whole picture. Scanning the scene, her eyes moved from a cluster of gift shops and a small restaurant advertising its omelets, to the casino itself. The Illusion was done up in an Arabian Nights motif. Minarets towered at each corner of the structure, and a massive, onion-shaped dome crowned the middle of the main building. Date trees bordered sandstone walks under walkways lined with columns that rose into peaked arches. Tile mosaics adorned the walls in colorful patterns and lighted fountains cast dancing shadows across them.
A hulking structure rose up behind the casino. Despite its clear, Middle Eastern feel, it looked like the love child of Shakespeare’s Globe Theater and the Roman Colosseum, and was every bit as large as its Italian counterpart. Lacey guessed it could seat 50,000 easily, and wondered how the developers had gotten hold of so much land in such an immensely expensive location. The stylized sign blazed on the side of the building proclaimed “The Palace Theater.”
Victor whistled low.
“I know,” Lacey said, nodding. “It’s enormous.”
“No,” Victor said, shaking his head. “There are no demons out front. Surprising.”
Lacey breathed in the oasis scent as a warm breeze played with her hair. Even Nainai squealed in delight. “Are we really going to see a Vegas show, baby girl?”
