Double Down

by De Leo, Vicky

  “Thanks a lot. Couldn’t you have at least given me a heads up?”

  “If I had, you would have gone to your GM. He would have backed your decision to reject her transfer. We all know he’s the golden boy. No one would challenge his decision. If I kept her, in a few more months, she would have had my job. I’m a single mother with two kids to support. I’m sorry Val, but I couldn’t take that risk. I knew you could handle her. You’re better at your job than I am and well respected. She could never be the threat to you that she was to me. I know it sounds cowardly, but I did what I felt I had to do to survive.”

  I had to admit she was right. If she had told me the truth, I never would have accepted Monica and Tony would have backed me. I lost a lot of respect for Dee, but I felt sorry for her too. Her situation was different. I wondered what I would have done in her place. There was no point in being angry, so I moved on. “Did Monica have anyone she was close to, someone she might have confided in?”

  “I know she was friends with Connie Rigdon. She’s one of our cocktail waitresses. I don’t know if they kept in touch after she left. It might be interesting to see who shows up at her funeral. I wondered if you were planning on coming, but since you just got out of the hospital, I guess that’s out of the question.”

  “When is it?”

  “Her mom told me they were shipping her body back today. She planned to have the funeral on Saturday evening. Let me know if you plan to send anyone from your property. I’ll make sure we have a room reserved.”

  I hesitated only a moment before telling her I would be there. I called Tony and asked permission to represent the hotel at Monica’s funeral in St. Louis. I was sure Mike had already talked to him about the documents he’d found, but he didn’t mention them. He expressed concern about my health, but accepted my assurances that I would be fine. His secretary arranged for my plane tickets, and said she send flowers on behalf of the Royal. Now all I had to do was break it Mom and Delgado that I would be flying to St. Louis tomorrow.

  Chapter Eleven

  Fortunately, I got home a few minutes before Mom. Although, she didn’t have any idea how long I’d been out, she took one look at me and sent me to bed for a nap. Since I was tired, and I figured I would need all my strength for the inevitable confrontation that would ensue once I told her about my plans, I meekly complied. I slept for several hours, waking only when the phone rang. Delgado said he would be over shortly, giving me just enough time to repair the damage the nap had done to my hair and face.

  Determined to look healthy, I took extra care with my makeup. I brushed my hair straight, using the flat iron to add shine. While searching in my overnight case for my blush, I discovered a bottle of perfume. I rarely wear perfume, but I thought why not? I could use all the help I could get. I struggled into a low cut turquoise silk dress Charlene had packed for some reason. I hoped it would prove enough of a distraction that Delgado wouldn’t examine my reasons for wanting to go to St. Louis too closely. The sling on my left arm didn’t help with my attempt at sex appeal, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. I got rid of the neck bandage. Makeup covered the bruise on my head, which had faded to pale yellow. My hair would hide both the scar and the bruise.

  I stood at the window looking out as Delgado’s car rolled into the driveway. As usual, just the sight of him set my heart racing. The pale blue color of the pinstriped shirt he had on set off his dark hair and tan. I’d heard that people who lived together for a long time didn’t really look at each other anymore. Would I ever get tired of looking at him? Would there ever come a time when the sheer masculine beauty of the man wouldn’t astound me? I imagined that like Cary Grant, Delgado would one of those men for whom age adds to, rather than subtracts from, their appeal. I couldn’t begin to understand why he was attracted to me, but I was determined to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

  I met him at the door. He took one look at me, smiled, and pulled me into his arms. I stayed there, making the most of his kisses. They might be the last ones I would get tonight. Once he pulled away (in spite of our agreement, he was always the one who stopped first) I asked if he minded if we went out to dinner.

  “Mom has been working all day. I’d like to take her out for a change. I know she won’t let me cook, and frankly my skills in the kitchen are not all that great even when I have two working hands.”

  He brushed his hand down my hair. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  I stepped back and twirled around. “What do you think? How do I look?”

  “Beautiful.” His eyes darkened. “If you’re mom weren’t here . . .”

  I smiled. “What?”

  He pulled me to him, hugged me tight, and then kissed me on the forehead. “Never mind. I’ll just keep reminding myself that you’re still an invalid, even if you don’t look like one. You go tell you mom. I’ll make some reservations. Where do you want to eat?”

  I might have been tempted to find some excuse to get rid of Mom if I didn’t an ulterior motive for wanting to go out. I needed to be in a public place when I told them about going to St. Louis.

  “I don’t care as long as it isn’t on the strip or in a casino.”

  Most of the best restaurants in Vegas are in the major strip hotels. However, when you work on the strip, that’s the last place you want to go. Dining anywhere in my own hotel was always a disaster. No matter whom I was with, managers and even employees would stop by my table to ask for advice, or run a problem by me, sliding in next to me in the booth, or even pulling up a chair. Since these were real people with real problems, I could never turn them down. Often the discussion lasted into dessert, with my original dinner companion hearing more than they should, while essentially being left out of the conversation.

  Delgado selected a cozy steak and seafood restaurant popular with politicians and business executives several blocks off the strip.

  Even though the place was packed, one smile from Delgado had the hostess falling all over herself to find him the perfect table, in spite of the Friday night crowd. If Delgado hadn’t stepped back to allow Mom and I to go first, I doubt she would have noticed we were with him. Fortunately, our waiter was a man. I ordered the lobster. Delgado wanted a steak, and Mom, always searching for new recipes, decided to try the house special featuring crab in a puff pastry.

  While we waited for our salads, I asked Mom about her luncheon. When we had exhausted that topic, I steered the conversation to Delgado’s day. Finally, when I couldn’t stall any longer I told them about stopping in at work and calling Dee. I didn’t mention the documents Mike had found. I planned to share that information with Delgado later when we were alone. Our entrées arrived. As soon as everyone had their mouth full, I told them of my plans to attend the funeral.

  As expected, Mom freaked out. “Valerie you simply aren’t well enough to be going half way across the county.”

  “Relax, Mom, It’s not like I’m going to walk the whole way. I’ll be sitting on a plane. I’ll have plenty of time to rest.” She was not pleased, and continued to rant quietly, while I attempted to reassure her.

  Surprisingly, there was no explosion from Delgado. He stayed quiet, even excusing himself to go to the men’s room part way through the discussion. He didn’t even look mad. I was beginning to think I had overestimated his concern for me when he leaned over, and patting my mother’s hand said, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Peterson, I’ll take good care of her. I’ll make sure she gets plenty of rest.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I’m going with you, of course.” He said it mildly like it was something we had agreed on, and then skewered me with flinty green eyes that said this wasn’t negotiable.

  I'd prepared for a fight. I wasn’t prepared to have company. My agenda included finding out more about Monica’s life in St. Louis, interviewing friends and co-workers, not taking naps. Under normal circumstances, a romantic weekend away with Delgado would be right at the top of my wish list. However, in that fantasy, I had on
sexy lingerie, not a sling. Instead going to a funeral, we stayed in and ordered room service. When I looked over at Mom, she was calmly eating her crab; apparently confident with Delgado along all would be well. This obviously wasn’t the moment to argue the point. When Mom wasn’t looking, I shot Delgado a look that said this discussion wasn’t over. He gave me a blazing smile that could have melted the ice off a glacier. Dazzled, but not daunted, I gave him a tight smile back.

  We finished our desserts. Delgado called for the check, which he insisted on paying. Since my version of feminine equality, embraces letting a man pick up the check, I didn’t object. Besides, as he so aptly put it, he could afford it. I should have known he’d never give me the chance to talk to him alone. On the way home, he casually asked the specifics about my airline tickets. Walking us both to the door, he gave me a quick kiss, said he’d pick me up at five thirty and left. Resigned, I decided that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Delgado couldn’t very well stop me from talking to people, and that’s all I really wanted to do.

  Once inside, I realized that nothing Charlene had packed for my recovery at Mom’s would be suitable for the trip. After Mom went to bed, I hopped in the rental car, and drove to my place to repack.

  Almost a week had passed since the last time I was there. The house felt strange, slightly musty, and definitely empty. At least no one had tried to break in. Everything was exactly where I had left it. Since I’d slept most of the afternoon, I wasn’t tired. I took my time packing, thinking about all that I had learned that day.

  I realized I’d never had a chance to tell Delgado about Monica’s email or the other documents. I hadn’t wanted to bring it up in front of Mom. Monica had saved the email in her computer, so she must have sent it to herself. Was this just the start of her campaign to discredit me? I knew that she told Arnie I was in on the blackmail. I wondered how many others she'd told the same thing. Who else was Monica blackmailing, and who wanted her dead? Was the murderer also the same person who searched my house and cut my brakes? By going to St. Louis, was I leaving the threat behind, or going closer to it?

  Even once I was back at Mom’s, snuggled into my old bed, I had a hard time falling asleep. My brain refused to turn off. I finally slept on the questions. By morning, I still didn’t have any answers.

  Actually, by my standards, four-thirty a.m. didn’t qualify as morning. My body refuses to recognize morning until the sun comes up. Even then, it takes a couple of hours of being up before I can tolerate cheerful. I dragged myself out of bed and got dressed. Mom, who was a morning person, got up at five. She tried to persuade me to eat something, but just the thought of food turned my stomach.

  Although relatively conscious by the time Delgado and Detective Long arrived, I still thought Brian seemed disgustingly alert and chipper. In a happy voice, he explained that when Delgado mentioned the trip, he offered to drop us off at the airport. The minute Brian backed the car out of the driveway he started to whistle.

  I nudged Delgado and whispered. “Is he always this happy in the morning?”

  He closed his eyes and shrugged. “Yes. It’s one of the reasons I have several cups of coffee before going into work. Sorry. I wouldn’t have accepted, but I didn’t want to have to try and find a parking place.”

  When Brian started whistling tunes from Disney musicals, I decided it was the perfect time to tell them both about the documents that Mike found, and my conversation with Dee. I would have confessed to the murder itself, if I thought that would stop him. Music in the morning was worse than happy. Happy music was more than I could stand.

  To distract him, I explained, “Asking Monica to destroy notes on a sexual harassment claim would not only be unethical, but it could set the company up for a huge lawsuit. If the employee filed suit, and this memo came out, it wouldn’t matter if I was guilty or not, or even if my boss believed me. The company would have no choice but to fire me in order to protect them from liability. It was the perfect set up.”

  “Doesn’t that give you a motive to murder her?” Brian asked.

  “Not really. Monica was too inexperienced to know, that in order for it to work, she would have to wait to produce the memo until someone filed a lawsuit. If she produced it any time before that, I could simply start an investigation and fix the problem. However, if she waited to produce it, then it would condemn her as well, proving that she had known about the harassment and failed to take action. The company would have been forced to fire her too. She would succeed in getting me fired, but it wouldn’t help her.”

  I told them about the newspaper article on the felony conviction of Martin, the crazy cook. “He lied on his application and Monica knew about it. Then there’s that the page out of the teamsters’ accounts. It’s possible that Jerry was skimming money from the fund. Maybe that’s what he met with her to discuss. Dee, the HR Director from the St. Louis property, told me she suspected that Monica was into blackmail prior to coming to Vegas. I told Mike to make sure the detectives knew about all this.”

  Brian dropped us off at the curb in front of the ticket counters. “I’ll check in with the detectives on Monica’s case while you’re gone, and make sure they’re investigating these new leads.”

  Delgado just nodded. He’d remained unusually quiet during my whole recitation. I wondered what he was thinking.

  It wasn’t until we got to the gate and checked in, that I realized Delgado had upgraded my tickets to first class. They’d already started boarding so I didn’t have a chance to say anything. However, I had to admit, stretched out in a roomy seat, with my complimentary booties on, and a drink in front of me before we had even taken off, I decided I could get used to having a rich boyfriend.

  Delgado made the mistake of flashing those fabulous green eyes and dazzling smile at our stewardess, Nancy, who hovered over him. If he was aware of the effect he had on women, he didn’t show it. It was a three-hour flight to St. Louis. Once we had taken off, Nancy served breakfast, a delicious egg frittata with fresh fruit, a variety of breads and sweet rolls, and lots of coffee. Nancy made sure that Delgado’s coffee cup never went down even an inch. After what seemed like the tenth refill, she began to get on my nerves. I reached over and gave Delgado a passionate kiss, which he returned. Opening my eyes, I looked over his shoulder, happy to see that the smile had left Nancy’s face. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was actually grinding her teeth.

  “What did I do to deserve that?” Delgado asked, looking somewhat surprised.

  I smiled. “I’m finally awake and you’re here.”

  “I think I could get used to being here when you wake up,” he said giving me one of those smoldering looks that made my toes tingle.

  Apparently, Nancy got the hint because she left us alone for the rest of the flight. Landing in St. Louis, we picked up our rental car and drove out to the hotel. It was located about a half hour drive outside of town. I’d never stayed at this hotel, but I knew St. Louis only allowed casinos on riverboats, so I’d expected to see an old-fashioned paddleboat cruising up and down the river. Instead, we drove up to a huge parking lot almost filled with cars. The St Louis Royal hotel and casino looked like any other land-based structure. It did sit on the bank of the river but, as far as I could see, it wasn’t capable of going anywhere.

  Walking into the casino, there was no sensation of floating or movement. However, it was much smaller than, and not nearly as luxurious as the one in Las Vegas, which featured several gourmet restaurants, an upscale shopping arcade, three pools, and a luxury spa. The St. Louis Royal had no spa, only one gift shop and dining was limited to a buffet, coffee shop and one steakhouse open only for dinner. Even the customers in the casino looked and sounded different. Loud and boisterous, they ran around sporting several strings of colored beads. I assumed it must be some kind of slot promotion.

  Weaving in and out between noisy guests apparently having a wonderful time, we made our way to the tiny front desk to check in. Dee had reserved me a room. My ego took a hit when
Delgado asked for his own room. While I wasn’t sure I was ready to take our relationship further, I was disappointed that he wasn’t even going to try to seduce me. So far, he’d been a perfect gentleman, pulling away whenever things started to heat up. I was used to fending off men trying to get me into bed during the first date, so I found Delgado’s restraint confusing, and frankly a little insulting.

  Once we checked into our rooms, we met in the coffee shop for lunch. Afterward Delgado told me he needed to go back into town to check in with the local police. He suggested I take a nap. He would call me later. I gave him a few minutes to get out of the building, and then I went down to the casino floor to the casino manager’s office.

  I hoped I’d find Stan in. He’d worked as an assistant casino manager at my hotel until a year ago. Then he moved to St. Louis to take over the casino manager position. I knocked on his door. He was sitting at his desk, watching the games on a monitor. When he saw me, he jumped up and came around the desk to give me a hug.

  “I heard about your accident. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home in bed?” He motioned for me to sit down. He then took the seat next to me, stretching out his long legs. Stan would have made a good scarecrow in the Wizard of Oz. He was tall and thin with a long thin nose, small eyes, and a non-existent chin. He wasn’t to the point of combing over his thinning hair to cover the bald spot, but it wouldn’t be long. While no one would ever call him handsome, he was honest and hardworking. We had become fast friends. I’d missed him.

  “I came to attend Monica’s funeral. I know that she left shortly after you arrived. Did you get a chance to get to know her?”

  He hesitated before answering, the same way almost everyone did when I asked about Monica. The company promoted Stan, not just because he was good at his job, but also because he was always politically correct, saying all the right things. He knew when to speak up, and when it was best to say nothing. Still we were old friends. He knew he could trust me.