“You’re that certain it’s the djinn’s twin?”
“Yes. I am. That popping noise sealed the deal for me. There’s really no other explanation. I just wish I had a motive.”
Obviously hearing the frustration in my voice, Catherine gave my shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll come up with something. What’s next?”
I checked the time on my phone. “As soon as the show is over, I’m calling Liz. She has a friend working the digital angle to see if we can get anything. After that, we’ll probably check in with Jacob again.”
Catherine wasn’t fast enough to hide her smile.
“What?”
“I find it interesting.”
“Find what interesting?”
“You using Jacob’s first name.”
“So? We’re friendly,” I explained defensively. Why was I defensive?
“You light up when you say his name,” she casually added.
My mouth dropped open. “I do not!”
She laughed openly now. “Yes, you do.”
“I do?”
She nodded.
I sighed. “He’s good looking, that’s for sure,” I admitted.
“That he is.”
“Maybe when this is all over…” I stopped myself. “I don’t think he even likes me. He treats me like a suspect!”
“That’s just his nature,” she explained. “There was definitely a spark. Literally.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered and at her expression, filled her in on our second meeting.
“Well, then, I’d say there’s definitely a spark!” She cackled at her own wit. We filled the rest of the time with idle chitchat until the show finished. The instant the show ended, I texted Liz. I didn’t mention the FBI disclosure. I didn’t like it, and I guessed Jacob didn’t like it, but she was what she was.
Any new info?
Tech guy messaged. He’s got news!!!! Wanna come get me?
On my way.
Catherine had been reading this over my shoulder and stood up at my final text. “Let me know if you need anything from me,” she offered.
I gave her a hug at the door, told her to take it easy, and headed out to pick up Liz at the television station. I chuckled as I wondered if I’d ever see her actual home.
CHAPTER TEN
Liz stood tapping her foot when I drove up to get her. She hopped in before I’d even come to a complete stop.
“Good morning to you,” I greeted her.
“I’ve already entered Chris’s info into Google Maps. Just follow her instructions,” she responded. “He’s in Aliante,” she added and I groaned. “Yeah, I know, but if I know my guy, it’ll be worth it.”
Aliante was at least a thirty minute drive from the television station. I stifled a response and simply hoped she was right about him being worth it.
“You caught the show.” A statement, not a question.
“I did. How did you get the video so quickly? The murder was just last night.”
“I have my sources.”
Rolling my eyes, I stayed quiet. She jumped in to fill the silence.
“Okay, okay. Since the second murder, people have started taping when actors do Facebook Live videos. Quite a few people emailed me the video after the murder.”
It was creepy how she sounded so cheerful. Another man died. Good grief.
“But, we really need new information. Chris is a genius online, so if he says he’s got something, it’s going to be good. I promise.”
Her excitement was infectious and I smiled at her enthusiasm. “He didn’t give you even the tiniest hint?”
“Nope, but that’s Chris. He loves his drama,” she laughed. I joined her; that was probably why they got along so well.
She scrolled through her cellphone. I drove in the silence while she checked whatever it was she was checking and soon we were pulling up to a two-story beige stucco house. It was virtually indistinguishable from half the homes in Vegas but appeared well-kept.
*****
A young man with smooth dark skin and dreadlocks opened the door with a wide smile.
“Hello, Liz and friend.” He gave Liz a quick hug.
“Mia,” I offered as we shook hands.
“Chris.” He winked at me. “I can see by your expression that I do not fit your stereotype.”
I reddened but acknowledged the remark.
“Unless you happen to live in the basement and this is really your mother’s house,” I quipped back and he belly laughed.
“Ah, but Mia, you know there are no basements in Vegas.”
“Guest room?”
He laughed again. “No on both counts.” He stepped aside to grant us entry. “Welcome to my humble abode. Although I will admit that I had interior decorating assistance.”
“It clearly paid off,” I responded and looked around. His home was beautifully appointed with matching earth-toned neutrals everywhere, a splash of red on throw pillows, and abstract art pieces on the walls.
“Thank you very much. Please, please, have a seat at the dining table.” We gathered around a laptop on the table, chairs already thoughtfully arranged in a semicircle.
“Okay, let me show you what I found.” Chris was all business once we were seated. “I don’t know your technical background, so I’ll go through all the steps,” he said to me.
“Here’s the picture that Liz gave me to start with,” and the familiar image of Juni filled the screen. “As you know, image-detecting software doesn’t work very well on partial images.” He closed the image and opened up a new one. I gasped. “I know, right? I took your image and worked my magic to fill in what the other two thirds of her face looked like. I can’t guarantee it, but I suspect this is pretty close.”
Looking at the image of a front-facing Juni, I had to agree with him. If I saw the partial and this whole image side-by-side, I would be certain they were the same woman. Long brown hair. Dark, almost black eyes.
As if reading my mind, Chris hit a few keys and the partial popped up beside the full image rendering. I could see Liz nodding beside me.
“Dang, Chris. You are a genius.”
“Thank you, Liz, but if that’s all I could do, that wouldn’t be as helpful, no?”
“True,” she agreed with a chuckle.
“Good thing I did more.” He closed those images and brought up a video, clearly showing the inside of a casino. “I ran a search for my new image. Nothing popped in criminal databases.”
I opened my mouth to ask how he had access to those and closed it quickly. Not really my business.
“When I ran it against general photos and videos posted on the internet, well, that’s when things got interesting.” Without another word, he clicked start for the video. A cute couple, clearly inebriated, were talking to each other and the person holding the phone. Since they were obviously not Juni, I correctly assumed what I was looking for was in the background.
“Wait for it,” Chris intoned and I leaned forward.
There! He hit the pause for the video just as a woman walked into frame behind the happy couple. Holy cow, it was definitely Juni. Chris waited for our reactions.
“Where is this, Chris?” Liz asked, her eyes squinting as she tried to see details that would disclose the location.
I realized why Chris was waiting. “When is this?” I asked instead and Chris nodded his approval.
“Exactly, Mia. The where is important, Liz, and it’s at the Golden Nugget at Fremont. But, Mia hit the nail on the head. When I checked the time stamp for this video, it’s a week ago.”
To her credit, Liz instantly understood. “This is right before the murder. Well after Juni died,” she exclaimed.
Chris nodded. “Yep, which makes things interesting. Either your girl Juni isn’t dead, or this is the twin sister you’re looking for.”
My head was spinning. If I was wrong about Juni being a djinn, then this very
well could be Juni and she likely was our murderer. If I was right about Juni being a djinn, then this was likely her twin sister who was our murderer. But, if this was Juni, what was her motive for murder? Angry at Roger for some reason. But why kill the others? And if it was the twin sister, I was still back to my question of her motive for the murders of Chad and Bradley…too many ifs. I realized Liz and Chris were staring at me.
“What are you thinking?” Liz asked.
“Did you find her on any of the security footage at the Golden Nugget?”
“I may have access to certain private databases,” he coyly answered, “but even I cannot access casino security footage. And I don’t know anybody who would give me access. Do you?” This last directed at Liz.
She frowned while she thought. “Not at the Golden Nugget.”
“No other videos popped with her image?” I asked Chris.
“I’m afraid not.”
I winked at them both. “Then it looks like we’re heading to Fremont!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Fremont used to have so much free parking, I lamented before I pulled over to my usual metered spot. Whenever I headed to Fremont, I kept it simple and grabbed a metered spot on Sixth Street. I was usually only a couple of blocks from anywhere I wanted to go in the area. I fed $4 to the meter. That should buy us enough time.
Liz and I walked to the Fremont Street Experience, which housed the Golden Nugget Hotel & Casino, among many other colorful attractions. Sometimes it was best to avert your gaze! I totally understood making a living, but I didn’t really need to see a middle-aged man with a beer gut wearing an American flag bikini. Liz and I heard a thumping beat and saw a small crowd gathered around one of the street artists. Liz rolled her eyes when I pulled her closer.
“Really, Mia? How long have you lived in Vegas?”
“I like the dancing,” I confessed. We peeked around the edge of the crowd. “Dang.” No dancers. Just a guy doing a card trick. Probably a pretty good one, with the crowd he attracted, but still. I usually only stopped for the dancers. They reminded me of the movements of underwater creatures so close to my heart.
We continued past the card dealer. Past the man spray painted silver standing statue still. Past the woman sitting cross legged on the concrete playing a flute. Past the two women wearing showgirl outfits calling out to the men, “Take a picture with a showgirl!” I admired the elaborate red and blue headdresses of the women but carefully avoided eye contact. They usually tried for the guys, but making eye contact with any of the street artists increased the likelihood of engagement, and some of them could be pretty darn aggressive. And we had neither the time nor the interest in engaging. But I wished them lots of luck with the tourists.
Liz and I reached the Golden Nugget Hotel & Casino. We stared up at the entrance. It wasn’t quite as impressive during the day as it was all lit up at night, but the gold-lined rounded cover over the entrance and the faux-gold plating on the exterior walls were still pretty sparkly. I was thankful that I didn’t require breathing to survive when we entered the casino. It was midday so not quite as bad as it would be in the evening, but the smoke crawled over my skin. Liz coughed and grimaced.
“Ugh,” was all she said but I understood.
We stepped off to the side just inside the door to get our bearings. It was a casino; lots of flashing lights and random jingles coming off the various slot machines. Casinos made most of their money off the slot machines; something I’d never really understood. You had zero control over the outcome. It was 100% luck if you won. At least with the table games, if you had skill, you could tilt the odds a little bit. I internally shrugged. I didn’t gamble, so to each their own.
“Now we find a security guard,” I stated, searching the floor for one.
“There!” Liz pointed over toward the far end of the space, where a man stood impassively like an endcap on the row of slots. We approached him, side stepping the tourists in their shorts and flip flops, holding either cameras or alcoholic beverages, rarely both.
“What’s our story?” Liz asked.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “But, I’m fairly certain this guy won’t be able to help us. We need his boss.”
“Good point. Let’s just ask for him.”
We’d reached the security guard. “How can I help you?” he asked, courteously, if clearly by rote.
Liz gave him her biggest smile. “We’d like to talk to the head of security, please.” The guard’s eyes narrowed and he looked closer at the two of us.
“Maybe I could help you…”
“We’d rather discuss it with him,” she demurred.
The guard stared down at us for a beat and then understanding dawned in his eyes. “I know you,” he said, almost but not quite accusatory.
“Well,” Liz responded, looking down and fluttering her lashes. I just barely managed not to laugh at her fake-coy routine. Oh brother.
Now the guard was excited. “You’re Elizabeth Addison! From that morning show.”
Liz held up her hands. “You got me.”
The guard lowered his voice. “Is this about a story?”
Leaning in to whisper, matching his tone, Liz answered, “I can’t confirm or deny that.” Then she winked.
“For you, Ms. Addison, I’ll get Mr. Maliton. But, I’ll be honest. He’s probably not going to want to help,” the guard warned us.
“That’s okay,” she assured him. “If you can get him, we’ll take it from there.”
We could definitely take it from there.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The guard spoke into a walkie talkie, requesting Mr. Maliton to the floor.
A few minutes later, a slim man in a gangster business suit approached. He looked like he got lost in the 1940s. If I’d been drinking anything, I might have shot it out my nose.
“Johnny, what can I help with?” Mr. Maliton directed the question at the guard, with a quick flick of a glance at the two of us.
“The ladies requested to see you, sir,” Johnny responded, keeping it simple. Smart.
Mr. Maliton looked like he wanted to say something more to Johnny, probably about the complete lack of information contained in that statement. He thought better of it, and addressed us instead.
“What can I help you ladies with?”
He nodded at Johnny, who moved away discretely.
Liz smiled at the security head. “We’d like to take a look at your security cameras,” she requested with complete confidence. Unfortunately, the bold approach failed.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Mr. Maliton responded.
“Let’s start over,” she replied, sticking out her hand. “I’m Elizabeth Addison, with Entertainment Daily.” Although the security head accepted her offered hand, inwardly I cringed. I watched the screen drop over his eyes. She lost him and didn’t even know it yet.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Addison,” he politely stated. “You still can’t see the security footage. Company policy.”
Liz tried to ply her feminine wiles on the man, since playing the media card didn’t work. I tuned them both out. I needed a distraction for Liz so I could entrance Mr. Maliton. A glance around the casino floor found nothing that could help. Screw it.
“Mr. Maliton?” I directed the question squarely at the security head and watched as his eyes took on the familiar glazed expression.
“Yes?”
“We understand that it’s company policy, and we certainly wouldn’t want you to get in trouble,” I explained, hoping Liz wasn’t being impacted too much. My voice entranced anyone within earshot, to some degree.
“Thank you, I appreciate that,” he said in a monotone.
“But, we really need to see that security footage.”
He frowned, his training fighting the sound of my voice. He’d lose, so I waited.
“Okay.”
“Thank you.” I touched his arm and he smiled at
me. I risked a glance at Liz, confirmed by her eyes that unfortunately, she’d been entranced too.
“Can we see them now?”
“Of course,” he agreed and walked away.
“Come on, Liz,” I said, and she followed along too.
Our little train made its way through the casino floor to a room off a short hallway. It looked like a scene out of a movie. A man sat before a bank of television screens, each of which clearly showed sections of the casino floor. The man appeared surprised to see Mr. Maliton at all, let alone trailed by two women. He jumped to his feet.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Maliton,” he spluttered.
“These ladies need to see some security footage, Rick.”
Rick gaped at Mr. Maliton and then us. “Sir?” As if maybe he didn’t hear him correctly.
“Please show them whatever they need.”
“But, sir?”
“Is something about what I’ve said unclear?” Mr. Maliton’s voice, despite still sounding soft and sleepy, registered with Rick.
“No, sir,” he replied smartly.
“Thank you, Mr. Maliton,” I said with a final touch of his arm. “We’ll take it from here.” Rick’s eyes bugged out at this exchange, especially when his boss nodded at us and walked out of the room.
“Hi, Rick,” I said with a little wave. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liz give a small shake of her head now that the entrancement was broken. I resolutely did not look at her and focused on our new best friend, Rick.
“Thank you in advance for all your help.”
“Uh, sure. What do you need?” His thoughts were clearly telegraphed on his face: Who is this green-haired chick and why did my boss give her carte blanche? I managed not to laugh.
“We need to go back about a week,” I explained, showing him the time stamp on the image Chris gave us. “The camera that shows this angle, looking for the woman in the background.”
Rick stared back and forth between the image and his cameras, working out which one would show that view.
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