“No!” Brad's voice was harsh. “I don't want to talk to anyone else. This has been difficult enough for me—I don't need people prying into my private life. Was that all for today?”
His tone had changed dramatically, and Nanna quickly said, “Yes, thank you so much.”
She hung up, and then I turned to her and said, “You shouldn’t have done that!”
Nanna shrugged. “You can honestly say you had nothing to do with the call. It was all me. And no-one’s going to know I even made the call. Besides, you can see that Brad wouldn't have talked to you if it hadn't been for my help.”
“She does have a point there,” Ian pointed out.
I sighed. “You're right. At least now we know that Brad couldn’t have been involved in any way—or his partner Chris.”
“What's next?” Nanna asked. “Are you going to go talk to Charlene's roommates?”
“No, I've got the night off, so I think I'm going to go talk to Charlene's co-workers at the Treasury. I can talk to her roommates during the day between my shifts.”
“That sounds great!” Nanna beamed at me. “I can come with you too.”
I shook my head quickly. “I'm afraid not. Most of the girls who work as cocktail waitresses are acquaintances of mine, but I've never talked to them too much. I don't want them to get distracted by your presence.”
Nanna nodded thoughtfully. “You're right. I can be quite the distraction. I hope you find out something useful tonight.”
Chapter 8
It was a bit strange going to the Treasury on my night off, but Ian and I walked through the brightly lit casino pit and smiled at some of the dealers and waitresses we knew.
The pit was as lively as ever, bursting with the energy and excitement of the gamblers. There were occasional whoops of glee, and loud, sharp bursts of laughter. Chimes from the slot machines ran out, and every now and then, a shriek of happy surprise pierced the air.
Ian and I made our way past the enthusiastic tourists, winding our way through the rows of slot machines until we found the door marked “staff only” and pushed our way through. Ian wasn't technically staff, but he was here with someone who was, and I knew it would be fine.
The employee break room at the Treasury Casino was a fraction of the size of the casino pit, but it was still as large as a couple of one-bedroom apartments put together. There was a kitchenette area with three refrigerators, four microwaves, a toaster, two coffee pots, and cabinets for storing things. Near the kitchen area were a few round, white dining tables with plastic chairs arranged around them. On the other side of the room, there was a large flat screen TV, put on mute and showing some talking head with subtitles scrolling below. Leather lounges were arranged near the TV, and I spotted my friend Alba sitting by herself on one of the love seats.
I made a beeline for her, and waved happily when she saw me.
Alba was my closest friend out of all the waitresses who worked in the Treasury. We’d been working together a long time, our shifts often coincided, and we both seemed to share the same sense of humor. Alba was tall, with a plus-sized hourglass figure and flaming red hair. Her hair clashed with the red and white uniform that the cocktail waitresses wore, but she still looked stunning, and I knew that her beauty extended deep within her heart.
“Tiffany!” she said cheerfully as I drew closer. “I thought today was your night off.”
“It is.” I settled down on an armchair near her. Ian sat on the chair next to me, and I introduced him to Alba. “We're looking into the death of one of the waitresses, Charlene Nelson—did you know her?”
Alba raised one eyebrow at me. “You’ve been hired to look into her death?”
I nodded. “Just yesterday.”
Alba smiled cynically and leaned back. “That explains it. I can't imagine anyone else really caring about her death.”
Alba was one of the sweetest people I knew, and her comment left me a bit shocked. “Why’s that?”
“We all pretty much hated her here. She was mean, she was cunning and she was rude. She kept trying to get to any man who looked rich enough to tip well—it was all she seemed to be after. There are rumors that she went out with a few of the rich whales, and that she asked them to buy her things. Of course, they might just be rumors, but she wasn't a nice person either.”
“How so?”
“Well, she was pleasant enough on the surface, but every now and then she’d throw in a subtle insult that was meant to put you down. She was good at it too, making you feel bad about yourself. I tried to avoid her as much as I could, and I know most of the other girls did too.”
“Did you know much about her personal life?”
Alba shook her head. “Any time someone's rude to me for no reason, I try to avoid them. Charlene told me—what was it now?—that I wore the uniform well enough for someone with so much extra weight.” She laughed cheerfully. “My extra pounds don't bother me, so I didn't care about what she said, but it did bother me that she tried to hurt my feelings. I never talked to her much after that—and that would be a year ago.”
I nodded sympathetically. “That sounds horrible. I had no idea that she was actually a mean person—the guy who hired us seemed to have fallen in love with her.”
Alba rolled her eyes. “Did he by any chance meet her at the Treasury?”
“Yes.”
“Then I'm not surprised. I suppose those rumors about Charlene dating rich men who came to play at the Treasury were true.”
“But it was just one man,” Ian piped up. “He could've been an exception.”
Alba shrugged. “Maybe. And even if she did date rich gamblers, that doesn't mean she deserved to be killed.”
I said, “Who do you think would know more about her?”
Alba frowned and thought for a few minutes, and then she said, “That would be Jodie. You know her?”
I nodded. Jodie had joined the Treasury about six months ago; she was slim and petite, with shoulder-length straight blond hair.
“She and Charlene seemed to be like frenemies,” Alba went on. “I would see them talking sometimes, and they seemed to be friendly enough. But then one day, I overheard Jodie telling Charlene that it was too bad she didn't have a boyfriend. Of course, men didn't like to go out with women who reeked of desperation.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That’s a pretty mean thing to say. Do you know what Charlene said to that?”
Alba laughed. “I think Charlene just ignored Jodie's comment. I wouldn't be friends with someone who had said something like that to me, but maybe Charlene was so mean that she didn't have any other friends and had to tolerate those kinds of comments. And I'm sure Jodie wouldn't say things like that if Charlene wasn't nasty back to her.”
I tilted my head thoughtfully. “Do you know anyone else who might have been friends with Charlene?”
Alba shook her head. “Not really, but look.” She jerked her head toward the sofas on the other end of the room. “There's Jodie now. I'm sure she'll be more help than I was.”
I’d only spoken to Jodie a few times before, so when Ian and I walked up, she didn't seem all that interested in talking to us.
I introduced Ian, and Jodie made a noncommittal noise. She pulled out her phone, and was about to start typing out a text, when I said, “We don't want to waste your time when you’re on a break, but we’re looking into Charlene's death. I heard you two were good friends.”
Jodie looked at me and smiled. “Yes, Charlene was such a sweet girl.”
I rolled my eyes. “That's not what we hear.”
Jodie’s blue eyes were wide with innocence. “What do you mean?”
“We heard you and Charlene were frenemies,” Ian supplied. “That you'd hang out, but that you were mean to each other.”
Jodie looked at us thoughtfully for a few minutes, and then she shrugged. “Sure, I guess you could say that. Charlene didn't have many friends, and I tried to be nice to her, but she wasn’t always nice to me.”
“I heard you weren’t nice to her either.”
Jodie’s eyebrows shot up. “Hang on, are you trying to say that I killed her? Because I didn't!”
“I wasn't saying that,” I said quickly. “I know you wouldn't do anything like that.”
“I don't know that,” Ian said stubbornly. “Where were you when Charlene was killed?”
“I was at home by myself,” Jodie said. “But I had no reason to kill her. She was my friend.”
“I know,” I said reassuringly. I sent Ian a warning glance. “We just want you to tell us what you know about Charlene. Did she have any other friends at the Treasury? Or any other friends that you know of?”
Jodie shrugged. “She wasn't good at making friends. At least, she wasn't good at keeping them. She would be sweet for a day or two, but then she'd say something mean, and people wouldn't want to hang out with her. Same with the boys. She couldn't keep a boyfriend for too long.”
“So, you knew about her love life.”
Jodie glanced at her phone longingly, and then turned back to me. “I knew she didn't have a boyfriend. Ever since I'd known her, she'd gone out on a date or two, but the guys never stuck around. Of course, that's because…”
Her voice trailed off, and she looked at me warily.
“It's okay,” I said encouragingly. “You won't get into trouble if you tell me. I've already heard that Charlene dated gamblers who came to the casino.”
Jodie played with a strand of her hair. “She wouldn't come out and admit it, but I think she was looking for a rich guy to snag. If she thought that a man was rich enough, she'd go out with him—but they were all out-of-towners. I'm not sure how she expected a relationship like that last.”
“Did she have any ex-boyfriends that you knew of?”
Jodie knit her brows thoughtfully. “I've only been here for six months, and she never mentioned any exes to me.”
“And what about her roommates?”
“They seemed okay—I went over to her apartment once because she'd left her scarf behind, and I wanted to drop it off. I can tell you their names if you'd like.”
“Yes please,” I said, pulling my notebook out of my bag. “And her address.”
Jodie told me all the details, and then she said, “I can't believe this happened to Charlene. I mean, she didn't really have any friends that I knew of, but I don't think she had any enemies either. She didn't get out all that much.”
“So you don't know if maybe someone hated her, or was threatening her?”
Jodie shook her head, no.
“What about her behavior before she died?” I said. “Was she acting strangely in any way?”
“No,” Jodie said. “Everything about her had seemed to be normal.”
We asked Jodie a few more questions about Charlene's behavior, and who else might know a bit more about her. Jodie reeled off the names of a couple more cocktail waitresses, and then after a while, Ian and I said goodbye to her, and headed off to chat with Charlene's other co-workers.
Some of the waitresses Jodie had mentioned were on break, but others were at work. Ian and I talked to a few of them; despite our efforts, we learned nothing new.
We left the breakroom and traipsed over to the bar where we saw Diane, one of the waitresses who Jodie had mentioned as having talked to Charlene once or twice. Diane seemed happy to help, and she took a five-minute break to chat with us at the bar, telling us everything she knew about Charlene—which wasn't much. Charlene didn't have any enemies that Diane knew of, or any boyfriends, and hadn’t been acting strangely before her death.
I was disappointed by the lack of information, but we thanked Diane anyway, and then she trudged back to work.
Ian and I were about to walk back home, when I noticed a woman rushing toward me. She was tall, wearing purple leggings and a purple T-shirt, with blond hair streaked purple. It was the woman I'd noticed the other day!
She smiled, and said, “Hello! I'm Belinda, but my friends call me Billy.”
“I'm Tiffany,” I said, slightly mystified as to why she’d chosen to introduce herself.
As if reading my mind, Billy said, “I saw you asking around about that waitress who died. Charlene.”
I peered at Billy curiously. “Did you know her?”
Billy shrugged. “I wouldn't really call it ‘know.’ But I’ve been hanging around the casino pit for a few days—I’ve decided to move to Vegas. It was meant to be just a vacation, but I've applied for a job here. Anyway, I've seen Charlene working here.”
“And did you notice anything unusual about her when she was at work?”
Billy looked off into the distance for a few seconds, and then finally, she shook her head. “To be honest, not really. She always seemed very cheerful, you know, the kind of fake cheerful you have to be when you’re a waitress. But I noticed she'd flirt with some of the older men—you know, the ones who wear spiffy clothes and big watches.”
I nodded. “That seems par for the course for a waitress.”
“I've heard the other waitresses telling you that Charlene used to flirt with rich-looking men and try to get dates with them. I think they're right.”
“Maybe,” I said noncommittally. “Did you notice anything else about Charlene when you were at the pit?”
Billy shook her head. “No, but that's not the reason I wanted to talk to you. See, I’ve decided I'm going to help you guys out in your investigation.”
I smiled at her politely. Billy seemed like a reasonably intelligent person. She wore subtle makeup, and she looked clean and pretty, though a tad too purple-themed for my tastes. I didn't know why she was offering to help me, but I didn't need any more people tagging along; Ian and Nanna were more than enough for me.
“I appreciate the offer,” I said trying not to sound annoyed. “But I've got Ian to help me, and I work better without too many people around.”
“But I can be really good as an investigator,” Billy said enthusiastically. “I know tae kwon do, and I'm a pretty good shot. I’m good at talking to people, and I don't have a job now, so I’d be happy to help you out until I get a job and move here permanently.”
Her enthusiasm was starting to grate. Ian and I exchanged a glance—while Billy didn't have any obvious signs of craziness, her eagerness seemed a bit suspicious. I wondered if she was involved in Charlene's death in any way, and as if he'd read my mind, Ian said, “Did you ever talk to Charlene?”
“No,” Billy said, “but I didn't know she was about to get killed.”
“And where were you on Sunday, between seven and nine at night?”
Billy looked at me, hurt. “You think I killed her? That's ridiculous. I just came over to offer you my help. I didn't think you'd accuse me of killing her.”
“But where were you?”
“I was right here, at the casino pit. Is that what you wanted, an alibi? You can probably check the surveillance tapes, don't you have surveillance tapes on all the casinos?” She brightened up suddenly. “I bet I'd be great working in casino security!”
“Maybe you would,” I said trying to feign enthusiasm for her idea. Ian and I slipped past her, and started heading out, but Billy walked after us.
“Don't just leave! Aren’t there more people you need to talk to? I can talk to people if you'd like me to.”
I turned around and looked at her seriously. “Please don't talk to people about Charlene's death. If you do, the cops might think it’s suspicious, and I don't want you getting into trouble.”
“I won't get into any trouble,” Billy said. “I just want to help you guys out.”
I could see I wouldn't be able to shake off easily, so I smiled and nodded. “Why don't you give me a night to think about it? I'll get back to you on that.”
Ian and I walked off rapidly, and I could hear her saying, “But I haven't even given you my phone number.”
Just then, one of the bouncers glanced my way, and saw Billy trailing after me. He paced off rapidly, and I knew he
would use some polite pretext to keep Billy from following me out.
When Ian and I had gotten almost halfway home, Ian finally said, “Well, that was odd.”
“That's kind of how you started working with me,” I reminded him. “I ran into your apartment to hide from that maniac trying to kill me, and then you sort of insisted on helping me out.”
“But she seems different,” Ian said. “There seems to be something wrong about her.”
I grinned. “Are you saying there’s nothing wrong with you?”
Ian smiled back. “No, that’s not what I mean. I think… isn’t her timing strange?”
A sudden shiver ran down my spine. “You don't think she's working for Eli, do you?”
Ian shook his head quickly. “No, I don't think that. I just meant—she seems to think that investigating is glamorous and fun. It's not.”
“No,” I agreed. “But maybe we don’t need to worry about her. I think she was just looking for a fun thing to do on vacation. She'll probably have a nice buffet dinner, go to a show, and play some slots—and then she’ll forget all about this idea. I'll probably never even see her again.”
“I hope we don't see her,” Ian agreed. “I've got a bad feeling about her.”
Chapter 9
The next morning, I texted Ian to come over so we could have breakfast together in my apartment. A few minutes after I sent the text, Ian showed up carrying Snowflake under one arm, and a large box under the other. He placed Snowflake on the floor, and the box on top of the countertop.
Snowflake came over to me and meowed, so I took the hint and bent down to pet her. Ian opened the lid of the box, and I peered into it and gasped with delight.
“Those look amazing!”
Ian beamed. “Glenn came by earlier this morning, and said he made a few too many when Wes and Nanna came to visit him yesterday.”
“I'm so glad he did! I've never eaten homemade Danishes before.”
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