I asked Danielle if she’d ever met any of Carl’s ex-wives, children, or Ellen or his stepdaughter, but she said she hadn’t. After a while, when it became clear that Ian and I wouldn’t learn anything new, we thanked her for her time and headed out again.
As we drove home, Ian said, “It seems like Danielle might’ve met Carl on the day he died, but we just can’t prove it.”
“Even if she did meet him,” I said, “when would she manage to poison his decaf? You’d think that instead of killing him, she’d try to extract a big payment out of him. After all, Ellen did say that Carl was ready to pay up.”
“It doesn’t really make sense,” Ian admitted. “But maybe Carl’s bodyguard Steve remembers seeing her.”
“He might know something about her,” I said. “We really need to talk to him.”
Chapter Seventeen
Ian and I went straight home, and after a few relaxing hours spent playing with Snowflake, making chocolate cupcakes, and eating a dinner of microwave chicken pot pies and cupcakes, I headed over to my shift at the casino.
I had an early shift tonight, but Brian was nowhere to be seen. Instead, one of the pit bosses give a quick speech about remembering to be friendly with the gamblers, but not hesitating to call security if there was ever any problem.
As we all headed out toward the tables, I leaned toward Sandra and whispered, “What happened to Brian?”
Sandra looked at me and shrugged. “I heard he was fired,” she whispered back.
As I clapped my hands out behind the blackjack table, I let the warm vibe of the casino wash over me again. The bright lights, garish interiors, and loud, happy gamblers had become an integral part of my life. I have bad days, just like at any other job, but being a dealer had its good moments too.
Perhaps, at some point, I would quit my job forever and be a full-time private investigator, but in the meantime, the casino gig helped me to pay the bills, and the work was relaxing enough that I could occasionally let my mind drift over to the case I was working on.
Today, as I dealt out the cards, I couldn’t help but remember Danielle’s complaint that it was difficult for a single woman to have a good time in the casino. I noticed, as though for the first time, how women who were either by themselves or with a group of other women were always hit on by the men near them. Some of the women brushed it off, but others seem to be flattered by the attention. I noticed at least two newly met couples wandering off together; perhaps they’d discovered that they were from the same hometown, or perhaps they would just try to take advantage of the adage, “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
I wondered if whoever had killed Carl had thought that way too. Perhaps they had thought that they could get away with murder just because it happened to be in Vegas. Of course, I knew that couldn’t be the case, and whoever had killed him had planned things out meticulously.
My shift passed quickly, and before I knew it, I was back at my apartment, snuggling under the sheets for some quick shut-eye.
As soon as my alarm went off, I dressed quickly and headed out to the diner. I was a few minutes later than usual, and I had an irrational fear that perhaps Johnson would have already had his lunch and left. But when I talked to the waitress, she told me that Johnson had never shown up today.
I nodded, feeling dejected, and ordered a vegetable lasagna for myself before heading over to my usual booth at the back. I watched the other patrons at the diner as they talked and laughed. When my food arrived, I ate slowly, allowing my thoughts to drift across to Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove.
They both had a terrific alibi, but perhaps it was too good to be true. Perhaps one of them had managed to sneak out from the event without anyone noticing; in fact, given how cooperative they were, perhaps they had even covered for each other. The latter seemed a bit far-fetched, but of all the people we’d met so far, these two had the most to gain from Carl’s death.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I almost didn’t notice when a tall sixty-something-year-old man walked into the diner by himself. When he approached the waitress, I snapped to attention and sat up straighter. Was this Johnson?
The man chatted with the waitress, and then she pulled something out of her pocket and handed it over to him. When he looked down at the paper, I realized that it was my business card.
I felt my heart jump in my chest. Finally! I was about to meet the elusive Johnson! I knew my luck was about to change, and I forced myself to stop grinning and try to look like a regular, non-crazy person. The waitress looked toward me and said something to Johnson, and he followed her glance.
When our gaze met, I noticed that the man had sharp blue eyes that seemed to judge me in an instant. I smiled nervously, hoping he would come over to talk to me, but then I watched as the man turned around, said something to the waitress, and headed out of the diner quickly.
I didn’t waste any time. I jumped out of my booth and raced after the man.
“Mr. Johnson,” I said as I followed him out onto the parking lot. “Mr. Johnson.”
But the man pretended not to hear me, even when I was just a few feet behind him. Finally, I forced myself to dash around in front of him and block his way.
“Mr. Johnson,” I said, forcing myself to smile politely. “Hello.”
If Johnson was surprised by my behavior, he didn’t show it. He looked at me politely and smiled. “Hello.”
“Um, my name is Tiffany Black,” I said, running my hands nervously through my hair. “I’m a friend of Stone’s.”
Something glimmered in Johnson’s blue eyes, but whatever it was disappeared immediately. He didn’t say anything, so I continued babbling.
“I’m trying to get in touch with Stone. He once mentioned you, and I was wondering if you might know anything about where he could be?”
Johnson shook his head. “No, I don’t know anything about Stone.”
I looked at him in dismay. “Are you sure? You don’t know anything at all?”
Johnson shook his head no. “What did you say your name was again?”
“Tiffany Black.”
Johnson looked at me speculatively. “Stone never mentioned that you’re friends.”
I tried not to feel too disappointed.
“Oh,” I said. “That must be because, you know, he’s Stone.”
Johnson raised one eyebrow slightly. “You said you were good friends with him?”
“We’ve known each other for a long time. If you ask him about me, he’ll tell you.”
Johnson nodded. “What did you want to know about Stone, exactly?”
“I just…” Now that I was standing here, talking to Johnson, I wasn’t entirely sure what I wanted to know. “Some CIA men came looking for him,” I said, starting again. “I know there’s been a big misunderstanding, and Stone’s disappeared. I just wanted to help him clear things up.”
Johnson smiled again, a thin, sardonic smile. “You really think you can help Stone out?”
I crossed my arms defensively. “Stone’s fired all his employees. I don’t know who else is here to help him, but I’m a private investigator, and I can do my best. I don’t want Stone to get into trouble.”
The lines on Johnson’s face softened a little, and I saw a glint of pity in his gaze. “Stone’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”
“We’re all adults. We can all take care of ourselves. But life’s better when you’ve got friends to help you out.”
Johnson looked at me thoughtfully. “Yes,” he said finally. “Life’s better with friends. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”
Before I could stop him, Johnson walked away briskly and got into an old Jeep. As he drove off, I stared after his car—the lower half was covered in mud, and a thick layer of it covered his license plate.
Disappointment hit me hard. I had been so looking forward to finally meeting Johnson; there was no way I could have predicted that our meeting would have turned out like this.
Chapter Eighteen
I got back to my apartment, feeling grumpier than I’d ever been. After a few seconds, there was a knock on the door, and I opened it to find Ian peering at me hopefully.
“How was the diner?” he said.
I rolled my eyes and went to slump back onto the sofa.
Ian locked the door behind himself and said, “I guess it didn’t go that well again.”
I shook my head. “It was terrible.”
“So you didn’t see Johnson?”
“No, I saw him. And we talked. But it’s not what I was hoping for.”
Ian looked at me sympathetically. “He doesn’t want to help out?”
I shrugged. “I’m not even sure what he wants. He refused to admit that he knew anything about Stone.”
“Maybe he really doesn’t know anything,” said Ian.
I shook my head. “No, he knows about Stone. I’m pretty sure he knows where Stone is, and what he’s up to. He just won’t tell me.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell you if he does know?”
I let out a tiny, annoyed puff of air. “I guess he doesn’t trust me. I tried to tell him that I was Stone’s friend, but I’m not sure he believed me.”
“Maybe you can go to the diner again, and when you see him next time, you can explain things a bit better.”
“I don’t think Johnson will be going to that diner again,” I said. “He doesn’t seem like the sort of guy who takes chances.”
“Maybe I should’ve been there,” Ian said. “I could’ve followed him after he drove off.”
I glared at Ian. “Johnson would be able to shake off any tail.”
Ian nodded. “Okay, then. What do you want to do now?”
I shook my head and sunk back into the sofa. “I don’t know. Maybe I should just stop looking for Stone.”
“You can’t mean that.”
“Stone clearly doesn’t want to be found. Maybe he doesn’t need my help. Maybe Johnson’s right, and I’m delusional to think that I could help out.”
“You’re not delusional.”
“Perhaps I am. Maybe I should just leave Stone alone. He doesn’t want to be found.”
Ian and I sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Ian began to tell me that he had called up some of the people who’d attended the meet-and-greet with Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove. “Everyone said that Senator Pritchett and Senator Wingrove were both there that entire evening,” said Ian. “I don’t think there’s any way one of them could’ve snuck out.”
I nodded, barely listening to what Ian was saying. I was grateful that he was helping me out on the case and that he was trying to cheer me up, but right now, all I could think was that I had failed.
There was a knock on the door, and I let Ian go and answer it. It turned out to be Nanna and Wes, and for the first time since meeting Johnson today, my mood brightened.
“This is a surprise!” I stood up to give Nanna and Wes a quick hug. “What are you doing here?”
“We came to see Karma and Glenn,” said Nanna. “I thought we’d drop by and see how you were. You don’t look so well.”
“Tiffany’s in a bad mood,” Ian announced. “She hasn’t had a good day.”
I looked at Nanna and shrugged apologetically. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll get over it soon.”
Nanna nodded. “I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it?”
I nodded and turned to Wes. “How was your visit to the casinos that night?”
Wes beamed. “I won quite a bit of money! It was lots of fun, and we went to a seniors’ buffet before that. I didn’t give Vegas enough credit the first time I came to visit. Or perhaps I couldn’t concentrate on anything because I had just met Gwenda.”
The two of them smiled at each other and exchanged a sappy kiss.
“Ew!” said Ian. “We don’t want to see that!”
“Okay,” said Nanna, “I know it’s difficult for you because you’re single. Why don’t we talk about the case instead? How’s that going?”
“We’re not really getting anywhere,” I said. “Most of the people we’ve talked to are either worse off because Carl’s dead, or have airtight alibis.”
“We’re supposed to go and talk to Emma Tyrone soon,” said Ian. “We’re having an early dinner with her.”
“Is this the woman who said that Carl abused her when they were dating?” said Nanna. When Ian and I nodded yes, she said, “You should try to hack into her computer.”
Nanna thought the solution to everything was to hack into another person’s computer.
“I’m sure she didn’t bring a computer to Vegas,” I said. “Nobody travels with a laptop these days. It’s all tablets and smartphones.”
“You’re right, Wes and I only travel with our smartphones. I guess you should hack her smartphone. You can learn a lot more by doing that than just talking to her. People lie, but smartphones are honest.”
I looked at Nanna doubtfully. “I’m not sure how comfortable I feel about hacking somebody’s phone.”
“It sounds like fun,” said Ian. “And Nanna’s right, we’d learn a lot more from her phone. She might be lying to us—and so far, none of the people we’ve talked to have told us anything interesting.”
“Okay,” I said. “Even if I agreed to hack into her phone, none of us know how to do that.”
“It’s easy,” said Nanna. “You have to use a device called a UFED. It’s like a small, square magnet that you place on top of the phone, and it copies all the data into a tiny chip. And then, when you come home, you can transfer the data onto your computer and see who she’s been calling and texting.”
“I don’t know where to buy a UFED,” I said. “I’m sure they’re rare and expensive.”
“I can get one for you,” said Nanna. “My friend Regina has a son who works for a company that does the marketing for them, and I’m sure she’s got one lying around. I just need an hour to go over to her place and grab it from her.”
“I’m not sure we should be doing this,” I said once again.
“Sure, we should!” said Nanna. “It’s for a good cause. Don’t you want to find out who really killed Carl?”
“We’ll do it!” said Ian. “Technology is the only way forward.”
“It seems a little unethical,” I said. “I wouldn’t want somebody to hack my phone.”
“It’s not unethical if you’re doing it for a good reason,” said Nanna. “Come on, Wes, let’s go find the UFED for Tiffany.”
Nanna returned after an hour and a half and handed me a small, square device that she said was the UFED.
“Just wait till she’s not looking, and then put this on her phone.”
“What if her phone’s in her handbag?” said Ian.
“Most people put their phone on the table next to them,” said Nanna. “But if it’s in her handbag, I can distract her, and then you can take the phone out and copy all the information.”
“I’m sure you don’t want to waste time going with us,” I said.
“No, it’ll be fun! I’ve always wanted to help you out on your investigations, and now I’ve got my chance. Wes can come along too.”
Wes and I looked at each other doubtfully. There was no telling what kind of havoc Nanna might choose to create, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
“We might not even need to use this,” I said. “Maybe Emma will tell us something interesting on her own.”
“If that happens,” said Nanna, “you don’t need to use it. But if it doesn’t, it’s probably a good idea to get the information. All the spy movies I watch have cool gadgets in them. You should get yourself some, too.”
I looked at Ian and rolled my eyes, but he was too busy beaming with excitement to notice my hesitation.
“Thanks!” said Ian. “We really appreciate it.”
“It’s a pleasure,” said Nanna. “Where are you guys having dinner?”
“Tom’s Bistro,” said Ian. “Do you know the place?”
Nanna nodded. “It opened just before I got married. The quiet place off-Strip with exposed brick walls, right?”
I nodded. Tom’s Bistro was popular with locals, but at the time when we’d be meeting Emma, it should be mostly empty.
“I bet she orders the most expensive thing on the menu,” said Nanna.
“I guess she will,” I said. “Danielle clearly didn’t have very much money, and I’m sure Emma won’t either.”
“Well,” said Nanna, “we’d better go say hi to Karma and Glenn, and explain why we can’t have dinner with them. We’ll meet up with you two at the bistro.”
As soon as we stepped into Tom’s Bistro, the smell of steak and fries overpowered my senses. I felt hungry instantly and couldn’t wait to start eating. As I’d expected, the place was mostly empty at this hour; small wooden tables occupied the space, and only a few of them had diners sitting at them.
Ian and I spotted Emma sitting at the back, looking out toward the bar. She was a small, mousy girl with short brown hair, and she smiled when we waved to her. Ian and I wasted no time in going over and introducing ourselves.
“Thanks for meeting us,” I said. “I know you’ve already talked to the police, so we appreciate you seeing us.”
Ian and I sat opposite each other—Ian faced the entrance, and I looked toward the back of the restaurant.
The waiter came by, and all three of us ordered steaks and fries.
“I’m starving,” said Ian. “I can’t wait till the food gets here.”
“I don’t usually eat steaks,” said Emma, “but I thought I’d make an exception today.”
She reached into her handbag, pulled out her smartphone, and put it on the table next to her empty bread plate. Ian and I exchanged a glance.
“We might as well get started with the questions,” I said. “You said that you and Carl had an affair five years ago, when he was married to his second wife.”
Emma nodded. “We dated for a year and a half. He was an angry, abusive man, and every now and then, whenever he got too angry, he would hit me.”
Pesky Politicians in Las Vegas Page 10
