"Yes. I want to make sure you weren’t up to too much. I didn't realize you two would be so serious about finding out the truth."
"If you didn't think we'd be serious about finding out the truth, why did you tell Dave to hire us? If I was a killer, I’d try to stay under the radar, instead of inviting people to investigate."
Kyle shook his head rapidly. "I didn't think you guys would really investigate. You said you worked in the casino–I thought that was your job. That you were some kind of busybody who was pretending to be an investigator. Or that maybe you just liked telling people that you're a PI. I didn't think you were a professional."
"Well I am," I said. "And I don't like giving up or not doing my job properly. I can't just let things slide by."
Kyle’s eyes narrow at me and I took a deep breath. I probably shouldn’t have told him about not wanting things to slide by. How could I persuade him not to shoot us?
Before I could say anything, Ian spoke.
“So, you really did steal that manuscript?”
Kyle looked at Ian and grinned proudly. He looked like a vulture—I wondered how I hadn’t seen this before.
“I sure did,” Kyle said. “Jimmy—that’s Brenna’s dad to you two—was dying of cancer. He told me about this book he’d written, wanted to ask me a few questions to make sure it all made sense, science-wise. I heard the plot and thought it sounded good. Wished I coulda written it myself.” He went silent for a few seconds, his eyes seeming to see beyond us and into the past. “I told Jimmy I had a few contacts in publishing, if he could give me the manuscript, I’d make sure it got to the right people. He made me promise that even if he died, I’d try to publish it for him—that his kids would like the story.” Kyle scoffed. “I was glad when Jimmy died. It was real convenient for me. And I got the story published all right—but why give him the credit?”
Maybe because he wrote it, I thought to myself. But I had the sense not to say that out loud. My stomach rumbled, and for a split second, I felt dizzy.
Ian said, “And then it got made into a movie.”
Kyle grinned again, proud of his achievement. “Yeah. Things went well after that, except if people found out I couldn’t write at all, my career would go bust. Folks in the studio think I’ve got the science knowledge, and the artistic vision.”
“That’s great!” Ian enthused. “I’m sure you’ll do really well—you don’t have to kill us.”
Right then, Kyle’s stomach growled loudly enough for us all to hear. He grabbed his stomach with one hand and groaned. “The tea! What did you put in it?”
“Nothing.” Droplets of sweat formed on my upper lip, and my stomach lurched again. “I feel sick too!”
I glanced at Ian. I’d finished half my cupcake, but he’d barely touched his. Kyle, on the other hand, had eaten two.
“I feel terrible!” Ian exclaimed melodramatically, but he didn’t look pale and sweaty like Kyle. “I’m going to be sick!”
I glanced at Kyle. He skin had turned a strange shade of green, and his eyes looked glassy.
I said, “It must be the cupcakes! Did Carol bake them herself?”
“I think so!” Kyle said. “What a bi—”
Before any of us knew what was happening, Kyle doubled-over and vomited all over my carpet.
His right arm hung limp. The gun hung loosely from his hand, and I leaped to my feet. I grabbed Kyle’s arm, and wrenched the gun out of his hand.
I tossed the gun over to the kitchen, and twisted his arm behind his back.
Kyle finished throwing up and struggled weakly. “Get off me!”
By this time, Ian had joined me. We pinned Kyle down to the floor—making sure his face was away from the vomit. Then Ian found his phone, and started to dial 911.
“You shouldn’t have attacked me,” Kyle mumbled, his face pressed into the floor. “You took advantage of a sick man.”
“You took advantage of a dying man,” I reminded him. “And now you’ve ruined my carpet.”
Chapter 33
Kyle babbled nonsensically about taking advantage of people until the cops showed up—Ryan, along with two officers.
“What’s going on?” Ryan demanded, as the officers pulled Kyle to his feet.
As Ian and I explained our story—interrupted by Kyle, who threatened to sue us for assault—Ryan’s eyes grew steely.
When we finished our story, the officers cuffed Kyle and read him his Miranda rights.
“You could’ve gotten killed!” Ryan said to me. “Why can’t you be more careful?”
“I didn’t know he’d pull a gun on me!”
“We were lucky the cupcakes were poisoned!” Ian said. “Though I’m not sure why Carol did that.”
“We probably reminded her of how much she hates Kyle,” I guessed.
“You should go to the hospital and get checked,” Ryan said.
“I feel fine.” I really did. “And Kyle looks better, now that he’s thrown up everything he ate. I think Carol just added in something to make him get sick—she wouldn’t want to hurt him. I think.”
“We’ll look into it,” Ryan said. “Though even if we can track them to Carol, she’ll probably say she had a baking mishap.”
“It might’ve been an accident,” Ian said. “People make mistakes.”
“Sure,” Ryan said, not sounding convinced. “But you two better come along to the precinct to make your official statements. Forensics got nothing on the knife, so we couldn’t prove Kyle killed Brenna—but now we’ve got your statement, and he’s attempted to kill you two. So we’ve got enough to take action against him, and he might tell us something in an attempt to get a plea deal.”
“What about Bruce?” I said. “Anything on him?”
Ryan shook his head. “We talked to Dave earlier today. He’s not pressing any charges, so I guess those two’ve worked things out between themselves.”
“I suppose they don’t want to create ripples in showbiz,” I said. “I wonder what’s going to happen to Zombie Cash Run?”
Ryan looked at Ian hesitantly. “One contestant’s dead, the consultant’s been arrested for murder, and the head cameraman might not be working on the show anymore. I’m not too optimistic about the show’s future.”
Chapter 34
A few days later, I was walking home after my shift at the Treasury Casino. It was almost three in the morning, and the Strip was a bustle of frantic energy, but when I turned onto the side streets, everything was quiet, an air of peacefulness hanging over everything.
I thought back to the past few days–Ryan and I had managed to survive working on our first case together.
Things hadn’t gone all that well between us, but at least our relationship hadn’t imploded. I had no doubt there would be a few more cases in the future when we'd have to work together, but I was sure we'd manage to work things out.
I was still lost in thought as I turned into the darkness of the alley behind the Cosmo Hotel. Once again, the lights were out in this part of the city, and I walked slowly homeward, happy to have solved another case.
A shadowy figure stepped out in front of me, and I jumped back involuntarily.
"It's me," said Stone's steady voice.
My breath rushed out in a loud whoosh. "You scared me."
"I always tell you to stay alert."
I nodded. "I've just solved a case. Maybe that's why my defenses are down a bit."
"You need to be careful.” Stone took a few steps toward me. "Eli’s going to try to close in. Tariq got in touch with us. He's going to drive over to Vegas, probably taking the long way. But he'll show up any day now."
I nodded, my heart suddenly beating rapidly. "Okay, we'll be ready for him. How’ve you been?"
I was standing close to Stone now, close enough to be able to smell his dark, masculine cologne. I wanted to reach out and trace the contours of his face–even in the darkness, I could make out the hard edges of his jaw. I'd missed him, and I wished there was some way
I could prevent him from disappearing again.
"Good," Stone said. "I'm glad you solved the case. How’s Ryan?"
I hesitated, and then I said, "He's okay. We managed to work on the case together, but I’m not sure it’s an experience I’d like to repeat.”
"I wouldn't think so.”
I nodded, and was about to say something, when Stone said, "It’ll be good when everything gets sorted out. I’ll be glad to see more of you.”
I was about to say something, tell him that I hoped things would make sense soon, and that I was happy to help out.
But before I could say anything, Stone leaned forward, and his lips brushed my cheek.
"See you around," he said softly.
He stepped into a dark car parked nearby, and drove off.
I turned and watched the car leaving. I could still feel the electricity on my cheek, the exact spot where he'd kissed me, and I wondered what would happen when Tariq showed up. What would happen when everything was sorted out, and Stone no longer had to stay under the radar–would things really get back to normal?
I walked back slowly to my apartment, my senses on high alert. Every now and then, I glanced around, half expecting Eli or one of his men to pop out of the shadows.
There was no way they could know the Tariq was showing up, I told myself. I was just being silly.
But I would take Stone's advice, and I'd be careful; I couldn't wait until this mess was cleared up.
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Zombie Cash Run in Las Vegas Page 17
