A.R. Winters - Tiffany Black 02 - Green Eyes in Las Vegas

by A. R. Winters

  “Hmm,” he said. I thought I heard a smile in his voice, and I felt a bit better. Even though I wasn’t sure what was going on, I knew I’d done the right thing by calling Stone.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Stone said and hung up.

  I put away my groceries, doing my best to stay calm and to think about anything other than the photos.

  Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and I opened it quickly, my heart singing with relief. “Stone!”

  I smiled and almost hugged him. I stopped myself just in time – Stone isn’t the hugging type. He’s a quiet, serious, ex-Special Forces guy with angular, chiseled jawbones and deep, dark eyes. Today, like every time I’ve seen him, he was wearing dark blue jeans, a white shirt and formal black shoes. The shirt hinted at some serious muscle underneath, and the shoes sparkled like they belonged to someone with an unhealthy need for cleanliness and order. Which he had, considering some of the comments he’d made in the past about the state of my apartment.

  He stepped inside and looked around my condo. “What’s wrong?”

  “What makes you think anything’s wrong?” I smiled, trying to act normal, and headed over to the kitchen. “Would you like some coffee? Chocolate?”

  I handed him one of the chocolate bars I’d picked up at Albertson’s, and Stone studied the packaging. “Filled with delicious strawberry cream,” he read out drily. He glanced up at the jar of instant coffee I’d placed on the counter top, and then he looked at me. I thought I saw a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. “Why the sudden generosity?”

  I shrugged. “No reason.”

  Stone put the chocolate back on the countertop and said, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  I’d figured as much. Stone didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on him, and he probably looked that way by never eating cream-filled chocolates.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked again. “You sounded kind of freaked on the phone.”

  “Oh, yeah.” My heart sank. I didn’t want to face the facts again, but I had to, so I nodded at the envelope lying on my coffee table. “I got some mail.”

  Stone raised one eyebrow at me, and picked up the envelope. He opened it without asking permission, pulled out the photos and flipped through them. When he looked at me again, the angles of his face seemed to have hardened. “What’s going on?”

  I shook my head, and sat down at the edge of the sofa. “No idea.”

  Stone looked at a particular photo again. “Taken today?”

  “Yep.”

  “Any other photos?”

  “No, but…” I took a deep breath and went to find my junk mail pile. Yesterday’s envelope was there, and I handed it over to Stone, who pulled out the one-line letter, read it, and put it back.

  He looked at me questioningly, and I shrugged. “I thought it might’ve been meant for Mrs. Weebly.”

  Stone’s eyebrows moved together a fraction of an inch. “Mrs. Weebly?”

  “You know, old Mrs. Weebly.”

  Stone shook his head.

  “We ran into her one day,” I said. “She told you that you should get married? That the Devil lives in bachelors? That unmarried young men like you are more likely to be criminals?”

  “Oh, that Mrs. Weebly.”

  The corners of Stone’s mouth curved up slightly. Stone hardly every smiles, and I’ve never heard him laugh.

  “In that case,” he said, “I can understand someone sending her this letter. But it’s not meant for her.”

  “No.”

  We looked at each other seriously.

  “And you’re not even working on any new cases,” Stone said.

  “Actually…”

  His left eyebrow went up a notch. “Really? I just talked to you last week.”

  “What can I say?” I shrugged with mock-modesty. “It never rains, but it pours.”

  “Sure.” He looked at me skeptically, so I filled him in on my work, not bothering to mention how charming Green Eyes had seemed.

  “Hunh,” he said after listening to me. “So we’ve got some suspects now. This Green Eyes guy and whoever killed Crystal.”

  “You think she was murdered?”

  “Definitely.”

  I looked at the envelope again and sighed. The intense fear I’d felt was now being replaced with something similar to resignation. “Now what?”

  “You gotta be careful. Carla tells me you haven’t been going to KravMaga classes.”

  “Hey, I wasn’t working on anything, and besides, Carla’s scary.”

  “She’s a KravMaga instructor. I’d be worried if she wasn’t scary.” Stone looked at me seriously. “At least you’ve been doing shooting practice with me.”

  “Only because you’ve been dragging me out once a week.”

  “And aren’t you thankful now?”

  I rolled my eyes and looked at him. Our eyes stayed locked for a few seconds: his, amused and confident; mine, increasingly unsure. Stone and I are friends, but sometimes, when our eyes stay locked like that, I got a funny feeling deep down, and I wondered if maybe we’re more than friends. But he’s never said anything – and neither have I. We’re just friends. For now.

  I was the first to look away, as usual. I had a brief, fleeting fear that my hair was a mess, and I reached up to smooth it down.

  “We don’t know what this guy wants,” Stone said. “We don’t even know who the guy is. We’ll drop off the photos and the letter with the cops and have them dust for prints.”

  “That’s a good idea.” I looked at Stone, surprised that I hadn’t thought of it myself. Some investigator I was. But then again, I’d been too scared to think properly.

  I called Emily to see if she was at work, and we took Stone’s car down to the police station. Thankfully, we didn’t see Elwood this time – we spent a few minutes chatting with Emily, explaining what was going on, and then we left.

  I was just stepping into his car when my stomach grumbled loudly.

  Stone looked at me. “No lunch?” I shook my head, no, and he said, “On a diet?”

  I frowned at him. “Why would I be on a diet?”

  “No reason.” Stone began driving. “Want to get something to eat?”

  I stopped frowning and breathed in deeply. Stone was staring straight ahead, watching the road with studied seriousness. “Yeah,” I said, “How about a burger?”

  We saw golden arches ahead, and Stone turned into the parking lot. I went in and ordered a Big Mac with fries and a Coke. Stone ordered nothing.

  When my order was ready, I grabbed my tray and we headed over to a booth in the corner. Stone watched me as I dug into my fries.

  “Not hungry?” I asked.

  “Not interested in getting a heart attack.”

  I ignored him and bit into my burger. Glorious meat, cheese and mayo. Who in their right mind would want to give up all this?

  My phone rang and I gulped down an overly large mouthful of food.

  “Hi, Samantha.” I sounded cheerier than I felt.

  “Hi, Tiffany. How’s the investigation going?”

  I stifled a groan and watched Stone text someone. In between the AAI meeting with Stacey and the scary photos, I hadn’t gotten a chance to really look into Crystal’s murder.

  “It’s ok,” I fibbed. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie – it was ok if I had some hope the investigation would get somewhere. “I’m heading off to my shift in a bit, so I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  “About anything particular?”

  “Just whether you know anything more about Crystal’s stalker. And I’d like to talk to some of her friends on the movie.”

  “Casino Kings.”

  “Yeah. Where’s it being shot?”

  “Tremonte. Part of the pit’s portioned off.”

  “Ok, well –”

  “I can tell you about the stalker now. Crystal never mentioned it to me.”

  “Oh.”

  Samantha heard the disappointment in my
voice and said, “But I’ll text you her friend Minnie’s number.”

  “Ok, thanks.”

  Well, at least it was a start. We hung up, and Stone said, “I assume that was Crystal’s friend?”

  I nodded, and gobbled up another French fry.

  “You shouldn’t fib,” he said.

  I shrugged. “Wasn’t really a fib. Don’t you ever?”

  The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement, but he didn’t answer.

  That reminded me. “Speaking of fibs, would you like to go to a party tomorrow night, honoring Oscar Goodman? I’ve got an invite, and I could do with a plus one.”

  Stone raised one eyebrow. “Party with all the Vegas hotshots? How’d you get an invite?”

  I smiled and did a modest hand-flipping thing. “I have my ways.” Stone didn’t look convinced, so I added, “We’ll be going as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

  His eyes twinkled and he said, “Sure. We can be Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

  I almost choked on my burger. Was there a sexy subtext beneath his words, or was that just me? “So you’ll go with me?”

  He shrugged. “Why not? It’s a glorified networking event, I might as well try to drum up some business.”

  I looked at him skeptically. Stone seemed to be doing pretty well for himself, and I wasn’t sure that his business needed much more drumming up.

  Before I could say anything, Stone asked, “When’s your shift?”

  “In an hour or so. I guess we should head back to my condo.”

  He nodded and said, “I’ll walk you to The Treasury.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “And I’ll walk you back home when your shift ends.”

  “It ends at three a.m.”

  “Ok.”

  I looked at him warily. “Are you going to escort me around everywhere?”

  He leaned back in his seat and looked at me. “That’s the plan.”

  The last time Stone had escorted me around, my moneybags client Sophia had been paying his fees. This time, I couldn’t afford his services, so I said, “I can’t pay you. I’m not exactly rolling in the dough, remember?”

  “That’s ok. You get the special ‘Friends In Trouble Discount.’”

  “I still can’t afford this.”

  “We’ll work something out.”

  I shook my head, no. “I can take care of myself.”

  Stone didn’t say anything, so I finished my meal and we headed out.

  ***

  A few minutes later, I’d changed into my uniform, and Stone was walking me to The Treasury.

  I’d tried to explain that I didn’t need his presence and that I’d be fine, but Stone just shook his head. Finally, he said, “I won’t always be here. If something comes up, I’ll need to get to work. You can take care of yourself then. But make sure you go to KravMaga class this week.”

  I was on an early shift tonight, and once it started, I entered my zombie-like dealer state. I clapped my hands out behind the blackjack table, dealt cards, and made some kind of joke. At the same time, I allowed myself to wonder just what was going on. Was somebody watching me right now, maybe taking photos of me? Maybe this was what it felt like to be famous – it was as though I were a celebrity, but without the perks.

  Thousands of security cameras were scattered throughout the casino floor, and when I glanced up, I could see multitudes of them on the ceiling, their red lights blinking away. If anyone came here to photograph me, I could ask security to pull up tonight’s video footage, and then I’d know who was stalking me.

  The thought should’ve made me feel better, but it didn’t.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time my shift finished, a drunk guy had spilled his pink cocktail all over my uniform. He was a little embarrassed about it, but the pink hardly showed up against the red and black, so it hadn’t been the worst of nights. Plus I’d remembered to tell my manager that I was taking the night off the following evening.

  I changed out of my uniform and stepped out into the warm, autumn night. As soon as I took a few steps forward, Stone materialized at my side, and I almost jumped in surprise.

  “Where were you?” I asked, but he just smiled.

  The thought that I hadn’t noticed Stone was disturbing. If I hadn’t seen Stone, I wouldn’t see whoever was stalking me. It was all the tourists – they formed a kind of moving, squawking, human foliage, so that even with all those bright neon lights, a guy could hide just about anywhere.

  “I’m not going home,” I said, even though he’d probably noticed already. “Nanna sent me a text and asked me to go and watch her play poker at The Tremonte.” Stone nodded, and kept on walking beside me. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the message yet, so I said, “You really don’t have to come with me. I’ll be fine.”

  “It’ll be fun watching Nanna play,” Stone said, and I rolled my eyes. He was lying; it’d be like watching grass grow. I was only going because of Nanna’s constant bugging.

  The Tremonte’s low and medium-stakes poker tables were off toward the back of the gaming area. As I headed that way, I noticed that a large area behind the table games section was partitioned off, and assumed that’s where they were shooting Casino Kings.

  Nanna was settled at a table with seven other players, and she waved when she saw me walk in. I waved back and looked around – there was a bar located conveniently nearby, so I grabbed a stool, ordered a club soda, and settled in to watch. Stone sat next to me and ordered a black coffee.

  “Long night ahead?” I asked, and immediately regretted the question.

  Stone shrugged. “You never know.”

  I assumed he was working some job, and I didn’t want to ask for details. He pulled out his smartphone and began typing away.

  “Emails?” I asked.

  Stone made a facial shrug. “Some. Plus a bunch of surveillance reports I need to check and some other random stuff.”

  The noise of the casino pit was a bit muted in this section. The jingle of slots and occasional whoops, groans and laughter drifted in, but mostly we could hear the chatter at the tables: players calling, raising and folding. I kept an eye on Nanna’s table, but she’d folded and I wasn’t really interested in the other players.

  “This game sucks,” I heard someone at Nanna’s table say, and Stone and I exchanged a glance.

  More voices drifted over to us. The dealer at Nanna’s table was saying, “Please don’t splash the pot,” and Stone and I glanced over to see who the newbie player was.

  He wasn’t hard to miss – an obese, red-faced man wearing a bright red-and-white checked shirt. Nanna was good at picking out fools at poker tables, and she was also good at getting them to part with their money.

  “Hey,” the red-faced man said to the dealer, “Give me a break, huh? I’m the one tipping you.”

  I felt my eyes narrow involuntarily. It wasn’t fun dealing with the clueless, drunk player. The other poker players looked stiff-faced, clearly trying to keep their annoyance in check.

  Nanna was tight-lipped. She’s never good at keeping her thoughts to herself, and I could see her emotions fighting an internal battle, the desire to win some money off the guy against the desire to give him a piece of her mind. I smiled to myself.

  “Seems like she picked a good table,” I said, more to myself than to Stone.

  He grunted something in response, and put his phone away.

  A new hand had been dealt, and the play continued smoothly – until Nanna won.

  The red-face man was one of the three players still in the game, and when Nanna revealed her hand, he scowled at her and said, “You’re cheating.”

  The whole table went quiet and looked at Nanna. I held my breath and hoped that she’d be polite. She smiled and said, “Honey, nobody needs to cheat to win against you.”

  The other players laughed, and even the dealer looked suspiciously happy.

  “That’s it!” The man stood up and faced Nanna. “You better show me what card you’ve g
ot up your sleeve.”

  Nanna said, “And you’d better show us the roast chicken you stole from the dinner buffet.”

  She was sitting demurely, her thin, wrinkled hands folded neatly together, and play had stopped.

  The man yelled, “You stupid old bitch! Why don’t you just go and die already?”

  The table went quiet and everyone stared at the man.

  Nanna said, “Why don’t you go to a fat farm instead of a Vegas buffet?”

  I smiled, proud of her but embarrassed at the same time. Two bouncers were heading their way now, and I hoped Nanna would be able to time her “sweet old lady act” perfectly and look helpless. I realized that half the casino floor was watching them, and then suddenly, I felt a chill creeping up the back of my neck. I was being watched.

  There was a stillness in the air, and goosebumps were rising along my arms. I couldn’t make out what Nanna was saying anymore – all the noise blended together into one cacophonous buzz. I turned around slowly, trying to act casual, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest, as I covertly scanned the area for someone with a camera.

  And that’s when I saw him. Green Eyes.

  Chapter Ten

  He smiled when our eyes met and I stood up instinctively. “Be back,” I managed to mutter to Stone, as I walked toward Green Eyes on autopilot.

  It had to be him. The eyes were the same, and so was the height and build. He was wearing a dark, stylishly-cut business suit and a crisp white shirt. Straight, dark brown hair fell across his forehead, and he leaned against the wall, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched me make a beeline toward him.

  I didn’t know what I would say to him. “Did you steal a painting that day?” Or maybe, “Why are you standing there, watching me?” Or maybe even, “Have you been stalking me and taking my photos?”

  I was a few feet away from him when he turned and disappeared into a nearby corridor.

  I quickened my pace and found myself in the same corridor. There were three elevators on the right side, moving up and down, and a door marked “Fire Escape” next to the elevator closest to me. On the other side of the wall was a door marked, “Employees Only.”