Vegas Lies ( Lies Mystery Thriller Series Book 3)

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Vegas Lies ( Lies Mystery Thriller Series Book 3) Page 2

by Andrew Cunningham


  So what did we do? We spent the next two hours wandering the streets and scanning the crowds, and found exactly what we thought we would find. Nothing. The casinos were crowded, the restaurants were crowded, and the streets were crowded. In certain spots, it was wall-to-wall bodies. Not exactly conducive to finding a five-foot-two doll-like person. Mo gave us Peep’s hotel—Circus Circus—and we schlepped down there just in case she had come down ill and had gone to her room. However, we knew we wouldn’t find her there.

  We convinced the manager to let us in. It wasn’t easy, but between Sabrina’s fame and our concern for Peep’s health, he relented. As expected, nothing looked out of place. It looked like a normal room of someone staying a few days for a business conference. There was also no indication that she had stopped by the room before coming to meet us. If she left the conference at 6:45—wherever it was in Vegas—there was no way she could have come back to the room first.

  At half past midnight, we decided that it was time to go to the police.

  *****

  The nearest police command center wasn’t far from our hotel. It was a bustling place, full of sketchy types and harried police officers. We went to the main counter, where a grizzled, weary-looking sergeant stood typing one-fingered into a computer.

  “Help you?” he asked without looking at us.

  “We have a friend who has gone missing,” I said. “She was supposed to meet us, but has disappeared.”

  “How long has she been missing?”

  “Over five hours,” I answered.

  He looked up with an incredulous expression.

  “In Las Vegas,” he said, “a few hour’s disappearance usually means a hot slot machine or a rendezvous. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “We are worrying about it,” said Sabrina. “This is not like her and her co-workers say she was on her way to meet us.”

  “Lady, we take missing person reports seriously here and I’ll take the information and put it out there, but I can almost guarantee you from experience that she’ll show up in the morning—probably with a hangover.”

  Sabrina had tremendous respect for law enforcement and always treated cops well in her books, but every once in a while you got one of these. He had just made two mistakes: making light of Peep’s disappearance; and calling Sabrina “lady.”

  She gave him a long hard look. Uh oh. The Sabrina death stare.

  Sabrina was one of the sweetest, kindest, shy people I had ever met, but when someone messed with her or with someone she loved, her six years behind bars kicked in. Her stare was withering.

  The sergeant, who had been looking right at her, now averted his eyes. I could tell he was feeling it. There was no escaping the stare.

  He grabbed some papers and handed them to Sabrina, still not looking directly at her. “Fill these out and I will pass them along. I promise.”

  We spent the next half hour filling out the paperwork, all the time feeling that we were wasting our time. Maybe they did take these cases seriously, but we saw the crowds out there. How in the world would they find Peep? This really sucked.

  When we were done, Sabrina handed the sergeant the papers and he assured her he would do everything he could.

  “What’ll we do now?” asked Sabrina, as we left the station.

  “What would the detective in your books do?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Those are made-up stories. This is real.”

  “Same concept. He has to solve a mystery and so do we. We just have to find some clues and follow them.”

  She was thoughtful for a moment. “You’re right. I have to stop panicking and start thinking.”

  “I know it’s not like Peep to be irresponsible like this,” I said, “but maybe the cop was right. Maybe something came up that she had to deal with. I’m sure 99.9 percent of people who supposedly disappear show up again. He was probably right, most of them are probably dealing with a hangover. I know that’s not like Peep, so I’m thinking it was work related. Maybe her phone died or she’s in a bad reception area. Do you know where she works or what convention she was attending?”

  “No. We should ask Mo.”

  I dialed. She answered right away. I was pretty sure she hadn’t slept.

  “Hi Mo. No, we haven’t found her, but we filed a missing person report. Sabrina and I are going to continue looking. What is the convention? Where is it, and what's the name of her company?”

  She told me through tears, and I spent the next five minutes talking her down from the ledge. This was certainly a side of Mo I had never seen.

  When we hung up, I said to Sabrina, “Mo is in bad shape. We have to find Peep. She works for a software company and was attending a software trade show.”

  “While you were on the phone with Mo,” said Sabrina, “I was thinking about what you said. My detective would start at the beginning. Who did she see last? Did anyone see her coming to meet us? Things like that.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  Before we did anything else, we checked in with her hotel again. They sent someone to her room and reported back that she still wasn’t there. I then called Mo and asked her for the name and number of the co-worker she had called earlier. It was very late, but since nobody in Vegas ever seemed to sleep, maybe she was still awake. I called and it was answered after two rings by a woman.

  “Hello?” She sounded pretty awake, and maybe a bit drunk.

  “Hi, is this Tammy?”

  “It is.” She had a guarded tone, but that wasn’t surprising. I think these days, most of us answer the phone tentatively when it’s a number we don’t recognize.

  “Tammy, this is Del Honeycutt. I’m sorry to call you so late. Sabrina Spencer and I were supposed to meet Priscilla for dinner and she never showed. Her partner Mo gave us your number. She said you were one of the last people to see her before she left.”

  “I was. So she never arrived? After Mo called me, I was thinking about her and hoping that she just got distracted and showed up late. I’m really worried now. That’s not like Priscilla.”

  “No, it’s not. Do you have a moment to meet? We are trying to retrace her steps.”

  “Absolutely. I’m in the Mirage casino. I’m glad you want to meet.”

  She hesitated.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  Chapter 3

  We found her at a bar in a quiet corner of the casino. From a distance, I could see her fiddling with the straw of her drink. Nervous. Just a nervous type in general, or was there something on her mind? Her final comment on the phone certainly indicated the latter possibility.

  As we approached, she saw us and stood up. She was a little unsteady on her feet, but not too bad. She was tipsy, not drunk. That was good. Nothing worse than trying to get information out of a drunk person. You get a lot of information, but it’s rarely what you were looking for.

  She was an average sort when it came to appearance. Not really slim, but not heavy; probably in her early forties, or not; brown hair, kind of short in length. A hard person to describe if asked to do so after meeting her.

  We shook hands and all sat down.

  She stared at Sabrina.

  “Are you really the famous mystery writer?”

  “I guess I am.”

  “Sorry I was staring. I’ve never met a famous person before.”

  There was nothing we could say to that, so we said nothing. A waitress came by, but we declined to order drinks. We weren’t planning on being there long.

  “What was it you wanted to tell us?” I asked.

  “I don’t know if it means anything, but Priscilla got into an argument with one of the vendors about an hour before she left. She seemed really upset.”

  “Isn’t it rather odd to argue with a vendor at a trade show?” I asked. “I went to a few of them in my old job and my experience was that vendors fell all over themselves trying to make you happy.”

  “Exactly, which is why it was so strange,�
�� said Tammy.

  “Just to catch me up,” said Sabrina, “Priscilla is an IT manager, right?”

  “Yes,” replied Tammy. “We’re both managers for the same company in the IT department. This isn’t one of the bigger trade shows in the industry, and in fact, we almost didn’t come, but our boss arranged it. He said we needed the break. We had both been working really hard doing some installations. Now I’m wishing we hadn’t come.”

  “Do you know what the argument was about?” asked Sabrina.

  “No, but it really disturbed her. She said she would tell me later. I have a feeling she was going to tell you what it was at dinner.”

  “What was the name of the company that had the booth?” I asked.

  “I remember it only because it had a really stupid name: IT Gadgets. It tells you nothing about the company and I have no idea what they sell.”

  “And the vendor she spoke to?” I asked.

  “Big guy. Must’ve been about 6’5”. Enormous. He looked like an ex-football player. He was big and muscular, but had some flab around the middle. You know, like someone who used to be in great shape and after he retired it all turned soft. I was about five or six booths away, but I couldn’t help noticing him.”

  “Did she say anything else or indicate anything that you can remember?” I asked.

  “No. She had been excited to meet you for dinner, but after her encounter this afternoon, her mood totally changed.”

  We talked to her for a few minutes longer and then excused ourselves. Sitting and talking was a waste of valuable time and it wasn’t going to help us find Peep. As we walked back to our room Sabrina called Mo to update her on the little we had. Mo informed us that she was taking a flight out in the morning, so Sabrina promised her that we would pick her up at the airport the next afternoon.

  It was late and we needed some sleep. There was nothing more we could do that night and we were going to need to be alert the next day if we expected to get anything done. Realizing that we had never had dinner, we were starving, but at the same time, we didn’t feel like eating. When we got to the room, we ordered something light from room service. We took turns showering and when our food came, we picked at it. We finally gave up and crawled into bed.

  “This is horrible,” said Sabrina as we held each other. “I didn’t want to come here in the first place, but once I was convinced, I was starting to look forward to it. If we don’t find her…”

  “We’ll find her,” I said quickly, not wanting her to finish the sentence. But in truth, I wasn’t so sure. It didn’t bode well for someone to disappear so suddenly, especially someone as level-headed as Peep.

  Sabrina started to cry and I was close to joining her. I just held her more tightly. Eventually we fell asleep.

  *****

  We woke up early and were famished. We ordered room service, and this time, we finished everything they brought. We took our time, knowing that the trade show floor didn’t open until nine. We figured we could snag some visitor badges at the registration desk to get us through the entrance to the show. I’d leave that up to Sabrina. She was good at being charming.

  While I shaved and dressed, Sabrina called her contact from the publisher to let them know that she was in town, but that something had come up and they probably wouldn’t see her until the day she was giving her talk—the last day of the show. They probably just figured she was going through another J.D. Salinger moment.

  We arrived at the computer trade show a little after nine, and as expected, Sabrina got us visitor passes. It helped that the woman at the registration desk recognized her. Tammy had told us that the booth was toward the back of the hall where the smaller companies were relegated. As we wound our way to the back, I looked at all of the products and services offered at the booths we passed. It was all Greek to me. I felt like I had traveled to a distant planet, one with beings much smarter than I am.

  We reached the back and as I counted down the booths to the location Tammy had described, I found myself with a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was it nervousness or anger? It didn’t matter. We arrived at the location of the booth.

  It was gone.

  Chapter 4

  It had totally disappeared. It was like they had just packed up and gone home, which was probably what had happened.

  “Looking for the company that was there?” said a voice from the booth next door.

  “Uh, yeah,” I replied. “Did they leave?”

  “Seems like it.”

  He approached us. He was older, probably in his sixties, skinny as a rail and totally bald.

  “They were here when we closed up last night,” he said, “but gone when we showed up this morning.”

  “Is that unusual?” asked Sabrina.

  “Yeah. We pay a lot of money for these booths, even the little spaces like these, stuck way back here in East Jesus. For them to pack up and leave halfway through the show is just weird. All I can think of is that they had some sort of emergency.”

  “We’re actually looking for someone who had a small altercation with them yesterday,” I said.

  “A short blonde with curly hair?” he asked.

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “I wouldn’t call it a ‘small’ altercation,” he said.

  “She was supposed to meet us for dinner, but she never showed. No one has seen her since.”

  “That’s horrible,” he said. “She was definitely upset. She was talking to a big guy. Sounded like it was family business, so I stayed out of it.”

  “What made you think it was family business?” Sabrina asked.

  “Just words I caught. ‘Father,’ ‘long time ago,’ and a few others. It was a strained interaction from the very beginning, but it got ugly fast.”

  “How so?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t eavesdropping, mind you, but it was hard to ignore it. I think she was surprised to see him—surprised and unhappy. I think I heard her say, ‘What are you doing here?’, and it wasn’t in a friendly way. In fact, the more I think of it, I think she was totally blown away by the meeting. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say that this guy was the last person on earth that she expected to see.”

  Sabrina looked over at me. “A brother?” she asked. “Since she mentioned something about a father.”

  “If so,” I said, “there was obviously no love lost between them.”

  “Venom,” said the man. “At least, coming from her. By the end of the conversation, it was pure venom. At that point I had a potential customer, so I couldn’t really listen, but I remember her saying something about calling someone and letting them know where he was. Then she stormed away. All I can tell you is that she was really upset.”

  “What did the guy do after she left?” I asked.

  “Don’t know exactly. My potential customer became a real customer—a big one at that. Made this whole show worth it—so I had to give him all my attention. I did notice later that the guy was on the phone a lot. Wasn’t even paying attention to most of the customers. Every once in a while he’d hand someone a gift bag with some trade show freebies, but other than that, he ignored them while he talked on the phone. So I’d say he was bothered. Of course, the fact that he disappeared probably says it all.”

  Couldn’t argue with him there.

  We thanked him for all his help and quickly left the show.

  “Should we look up the guy’s business?” I asked.

  An unnecessary question. Sabrina was already typing the name of the business into her phone.

  “IT Gadgets is a local company. According to the map, it’s located someplace downtown,” she said.

  “Someone told me that we shouldn’t leave the strip, that the downtown is a dangerous place,” I said.

  “We’ll just drive past it,” replied Sabrina. “We won’t stop. I suppose we should rent a car.”

  “That would make driving past it a little easier.”

  In normal times, that would have elicited some sort
of sarcastic response from Sabrina. Not today. We were both too keyed up. The fact that I could even make the comment was a surprise. Maybe I just missed our banter. Hopefully this would all end well and we could return to normal.

  We asked the concierge at the Mirage to call a cab to take us to a car rental agency. Instead, they called a limo “on the house” to shuttle us over. Normally they would only do that for someone who was spending a lot of money in the casino, and we hadn’t yet spent a dime. But in this case the word had quickly circulated that Sabrina was staying there and the staff were tripping over themselves to be of service.

  An hour later we were in our rental, driving through the streets of Las Vegas. The people who had warned me weren’t kidding. There was no way you would catch me walking around out there.

  We finally found the street. It was just as sketchy as the rest of the area. Most of the businesses around there had metal bars around the windows and pull-down security doors for when the places were closed. The businesses all seemed to be of the service variety—AC repair, irrigation, pest control, etc. There were very few retail stores, just a few little markets that sold cigarettes, lottery, and who knows what else.

  As we came up to the address on Sabrina’s phone, I slowed the car down. It was a squat brick building with seemingly no windows. I’m sure it had one or two, but I couldn’t see them. It had a small sign over the door that read, “IT Gadgets—Wholesalers.” Wholesalers of what? It had no metal security door, but the place looked closed anyway. Maybe it always looked closed. There were no cars in the narrow driveway on the side of the building.

  I had brought the car almost to a complete stop, but when we noticed that we were drawing the interest of various scary types in the neighborhood, we decided it was time to get out of there.

  As we drove off, Sabrina looked at her watch.

 

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