Lounge Singers And Liars In Las Vegas

by A. R. Winters

  “Don’t worry,” Ian said with a grin. “I read this study that says it’s okay to eat fast food every day if you just run a mile after each meal.”

  My mom and I exchanged a wary glance.

  “You don’t run, do you?” Mom asked Ian as we followed her to the den.

  “Nope,” said Ian. “But how hard could it be to run a mile?”

  “It’s not easy,” I grumbled. “Remember how I had to run after that old lady in the casino? And she still got away!”

  “And the one time we had to run after Bridget at the spa,” Ian supplied. “Although she was pretty fast for a dog.” He turned to my mom. “How’s she doing, by the way?”

  Mom nodded enthusiastically. “Apparently Bridget's a bit of a bed hog, but Susan doesn't mind since that dog has her totally wrapped around her finger. She says Bridget's great though. Loving it up there.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. I’d saved Bridget from her previous terrible owner, but I couldn’t keep her cooped up in my tiny apartment all day. Sitting around and waiting for me to get off my eight-hour shifts was no life for a dog. So she moved to stay with mom’s sister, my aunt Susan, in Michigan. From the photos I’d seen, Bridget really did love it there.

  When we got to the den, we found Nanna and Nanna’s husband, Wes, sitting and watching a reality TV show about dancing.

  They put the show on mute and got up to exchange hugs with us and exclaim over how skinny Ian and I had both gotten.

  I was pretty sure neither Ian nor I had (sadly!) gotten any skinnier, but Nanna hadn’t seen us for a few weeks while she’d visited Wes’s family in Indiana, and her subconscious was playing tricks on her.

  “We’re not interrupting your show, are we?” I asked as Ian and I settled into comfy armchairs on either side of the sofa where Nanna and Wes were sitting. Mom settled into an armchair facing the TV, giving it a cursory glance. “It does look interesting.”

  I was just being polite.

  I wasn’t a fan of reality TV shows—especially not after Ian and I had not one, but two terrible experiences with reality shows! Of course, the fact that murder was involved in those shows probably clouded my judgment a bit.

  “This is a pretty boring show now,” Nanna declared. “There’s not enough rivalry and backstabbing. You need lots of backstabbing for it to be a good show.”

  Ian nodded sagely. “That’s absolutely true.”

  “And it needs some sex appeal,” Nanna went on. “Nothing happens without sex appeal. Not that I’ve got any these days.”

  Wes squeezed Nanna’s hand gently. “You’ve got plenty of sex appeal, sweetheart.”

  I tried not to gag. I’m normally quite fond of Wes, but I didn’t feel like hearing how sexy Nanna was. So in a rush to change the topic, I said, “What else does a good reality show need?”

  “I know,” said Ian. “It needs exotic locations! And celebrities! And—”

  He went on talking about the ingredients of a good reality TV show, but my dad appeared in the hallway with another guest, and I didn’t hear another word that Ian said.

  My brain buzzed wordlessly as my eyes met Stone’s.

  Stone looked just the same as before. Before he had to go undercover and start wearing odd disguises, that is.

  His cheeks were angular, his jaw square, and his eyes dark and intense. He wore his usual uniform of a crisp white shirt and dark blue jeans, his dress shoes polished to perfection. And as usual, he radiated an aura of strength and security that made me want to melt into his arms.

  Where Stone and I were relationship-wise, I didn’t quite know. We’d always been good friends. Platonic friends. And that was that.

  Until one night when we shared a passionate kiss, and I wondered if we might be something more.

  Unfortunately, the next morning, angry-looking men claiming to be from the CIA showed up at my doorstep, looking for Stone, and he had to go underground.

  Stone stayed underground, trying to clear his name, for what felt like the better part of forever. But finally, things got sorted out, and Stone was back—free to resume his normal life. Free to be a part of mine again.

  But by the time all the business had been settled between Stone and the CIA, I was in a happy relationship with Ryan.

  Of course, now Ryan was stuck in an undercover mission, and I was stuck in relationship limbo.

  I desperately wanted Ryan to come back to Vegas, safe and sound, but I also wasn’t sure if I could continue a relationship with him—and that made me feel guilty and doubly sad about Ryan’s lack of presence.

  My feelings were all over the place, and I certainly didn’t have room in my heart to want a relationship with anyone other than Ryan. But that didn’t stop my heart from beating faster as soon as I saw Stone standing in that doorway.

  My voice hitched in my throat as I said, “What’re you doing here?”

  Mom gave me a sharp look. I knew she wanted me to not speak so rudely to a guest. But she didn’t say anything. Since Stone’s recent tangle with the CIA, she was no longer his biggest fan.

  Quickly, I said, “I mean, er, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  Stone’s intense eyes softened a tad, and he said, “I’m helping your dad with the wiring. You’ve got issues in this house.”

  I tried to not knit my brows together or pout. Since when did my Dad have Stone’s phone number on tap? I did my best to sound cheerful and said, “Dad! How did you get Stone’s phone number?”

  “He didn’t,” said Nanna. “I called Stone.” She gave me a shrewd look. “I thought we could use some help around here.”

  I ignored the hint in her voice and looked pointedly at Mom. “Did you want some help getting the food on the dining table?”

  “I’d love some help!” she said, standing up and making for the door.

  “I’ll join you,” Ian said. “Walking back and forth from the kitchen to the dining table is sort of like going for a run. Everyone else can go straight to the table!”

  Once Ian had grabbed a bowl of rice and headed for the table, Mom said in a low voice, “There’s nothing between you and Stone, is there?”

  “You know there isn’t,” I said, picking up a large platter of roast chicken drumsticks. “Nothing at all.”

  “Good,” she said. “You know I used to like him, but it’s not safe to get too close to people who’re on the CIA’s list.”

  “Stone isn’t on the list anymore.”

  “But he was.”

  “That was all a big misunderstanding. It’s all cleared up now.”

  “The CIA doesn’t make mistakes,” Mom said.

  “They did this time.”

  “What did they do? Who?” said Ian, barging into the kitchen again.

  “Nothing,” Mom and I said in unison, following him into the dining room.

  Over lunch, Ian and I told everyone about how we’d been trying to track down Gladys, and how spectacularly we failed at it so far.

  Each time we showed up at her door and knocked, nobody answered. And after that time in the Tremonte when we’d gotten lucky and spotted her on the casino floor, we hadn’t seen her again.

  “This is turning out to be a hassle,” I told Nanna. “I’m charging a flat rate and I need to wrap this up soon.”

  “I’m sure things’ll get sorted,” Nanna said. “What about any other cases?”

  “Nothing so far,” I said.

  “Well, speaking of—”

  Before she could tell me what she was thinking of, my dad interrupted her to ask her to pass the salad, and my mom asked me if I’d like to meet her friend Madeline’s son Steven.

  “No thanks,” I said to Mom. I’d had enough bad experiences with her blind dates! “I’m still dating Ryan, remember?”

  My mom pressed her lips together. “Are you, though?”

  “What do you mean? I thought you liked him.”

  “Liked. Past tense. Before he left you at the drop of a hat and went off on some wild goose chase under
cover mission.”

  “It’s not—” I shook my head, trying to stay calm. “It’s a very prestigious mission,” I said, thinking I sounded particularly calm.

  “He left you like that, and he didn’t even tell you ahead of time. He’s basically abandoned you, and you don’t see it.”

  My lips parted and I stared at my mother, wondering if that was true. Out loud, I said, “That’s not true.”

  “What if he’s gone for three years? Or five years? What then?”

  When I didn’t say anything, Mom went on. “I just want you to be happy, you know. Meet a nice man, settle down, have a family. You can’t settle down with a man who isn’t here.”

  “But he might come back,” I managed finally. “He might come back soon.”

  My mother tilted her head, not conceding defeat easily. “What if he meets a woman when he’s undercover? Are you two exclusive?”

  I stared at her. Ryan and I had never talked about exclusivity—it was just something I’d assumed was implied.

  “Don’t just imagine you’re exclusive,” my mother said, as though reading my mind. “If you haven’t talked about it, I’m sure Ryan expects you to see other men. I’m sure he doesn’t expect you to sit around doing nothing, wasting the prime years of your youth.”

  I felt as though cobwebs were growing in my brain. This was all a line of reasoning I’d never gone down before.

  “You should see someone else,” my mother said firmly.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Stone watching me closely.

  “I don’t want you to set me up,” I said to my mother.

  “Okay,” she said. “But what if you meet a nice, handsome young man at the grocery store and he asks you out? What then?”

  “I’d say I’ve got a boyfriend,” I said primly.

  “A-ha!” said Nanna, suddenly. I had no idea she’d been listening in on our conversation. But then again, everyone at the table was clearly listening carefully.

  Nanna went on. “But do you really have a boyfriend, if he’s not here? If you don’t know how to get in touch with him and if he’ll even want to date you when he gets back? People come back from undercover missions all different, you know.”

  I sighed. “I’m not ready to date someone else.”

  My mother smiled and patted my hand, as though she’d won the argument. “Give it time, dear.”

  I stared at my hand, where she’d patted me.

  “That’s a great idea,” Nanna said. “Give it time.”

  “Ryan might come back soon,” I muttered, as though saying it out loud would make it true. “I’ll wait.”

  “For how long? You haven’t even talked about this, have you?” Mom asked.

  “No,” I admitted. “He left so suddenly.”

  An awkward silence fell upon the table. I looked at Stone and he was busy staring at his plate and eating. Everyone was suddenly looking at their plates.

  And then, Nanna said, “Speaking of relationships! Did you see that video of Roger Briars getting arrested?”

  Mom groaned and even Dad shook his head disapprovingly.

  “She’s got that video on repeat,” Wes told me. “It’s all she seems to be watching, in between the reality shows.”

  “It’s hard to take my eyes off it,” Nanna said. “Tiffany, did you know your mother had the biggest crush on Roger growing up?”

  “I did not!” Mom said quickly. “I never—”

  “She used to drag me to all his shows,” Nanna went on. “He was quite the teen idol.”

  “No!” said Mom. “You dragged me to his shows.”

  “He had such a smooth voice,” Nanna went on, “and those good looks of his! No wonder your mother was so crazy about him.”

  “You were crazy about him!” Mom said. “You were the one who was always listening to his songs. You’d put up posters of him in your room if you could.”

  Nanna went pshaw and Wes said, “I see you like the dangerous ones.”

  “He’s innocent of this murder,” Nanna said. “Let me show you guys all the video. I’ll just go grab my laptop.”

  Mom, Dad, and Wes tried to protest, but Nanna was already out of her seat and headed to fetch her laptop before we could stop her.

  Ian and I exchanged a glance, and I shrugged. What difference would it make to watch the video one more time?

  Nanna came back with the laptop, and as she set it up, she said, “Oh, that’s right! I heard you found the body! I meant to ask you all about it.”

  “Not much to tell,” I said. “Like I was saying, I was running after that old woman, Gladys…”

  As Nanna set things up on her laptop, I told everyone about finding the body stuffed into the oven.

  Of course, within a few hours of my leaving the casino, the man had been identified. And to Nanna’s dismay, it seemed that Roger Briars had killed him; there was video footage from the kitchen of Roger stuffing the man into the oven.

  “Look at this!” Nanna said, playing the incriminating video of Roger. “Who would do such a thing if they really were a killer?”

  “A killer?” I suggested gently. “Nanna, I know you were a huge fan of Roger Briars’ music—I mean, Mom was a huge fan—but things are looking pretty bad for this guy. Why would you stuff someone into an oven if you didn’t mean to kill them?”

  “You just said that the man hadn’t been burned in that oven. That means Roger didn’t stuff him into the oven to kill him—he was already dead!”

  “You’ve got a point,” I admitted. “But all that means is that Roger Briars was moving a dead guy around, trying to hide him.”

  Nanna made a dismissive noise and played the video again. “Does he look like a killer?” she said. “No! Of course not! Tiffany, you must investigate this.”

  “It’s not my case,” I said. “Nobody’s hired me to investigate.”

  “You should investigate for the sake of it,” Nanna said. “For justice.”

  I shook my head. “The man looks pretty guilty, Nanna. I think justice will be served without my help.”

  “He’s innocent,” said Nanna with a melodramatic sigh. “I just know it.”

  “Because of his smooth singing voice?” Ian asked.

  “And his dreamy eyes,” Nanna said. “No one who looks and sounds that good becomes a killer.”

  “If he’s so famous, how come we haven’t heard of him?” Ian said.

  “He’s not famous anymore,” Nanna said. “He used to be. He used to be a teenage heartthrob back in the day.”

  “And now,” said Ian dramatically, “he’s a killer!”

  “He is not a killer,” Nanna repeated. “Tiff, can’t you investigate this case and clear his name?”

  I shrugged. “Just because I’m a PI doesn’t mean I can go around investigating every single murder out there.”

  “Especially if he’s obviously a killer,” Mom added. “No need to take on the clearly pointless cases.”

  “And no one’s hired me.” I pointed out the obvious. “I can’t work for free.”

  “But what about justice?” Nanna said.

  “That’s what the police are for,” Ian said. “They can investigate just fine.”

  “Elwood’s on the case,” I said helpfully. “I’ve already told him I won’t meddle.”

  “Elwood is useless!” Nanna said. “You know him. He’ll just stick to the obvious.”

  Ian threw his hands up into the air. “Sometimes, the obvious is just obvious because it’s the truth.”

  Nanna closed the loop of the video, staring at her blank laptop screen. The corners of her lips were turned down, and her eyes looked dejected. “Oh well. I suppose—I guess life’s like this sometimes.”

  I felt bad for Nanna, so I said, “If there’s a chance he’s not the killer, the cops will find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

  “I can’t help worrying,” Nanna said, looking at me sadly. “Your mom was such a huge fan of his.”

  “Thanks for thinki
ng about me,” Mom said. “But I’ll be fine. And so will Tiff, as long as she stays away from this murder.”

  Chapter 4

  Nanna had just put away her laptop when my phone rang.

  It was a number I didn’t recognize, and I was about to put it on silent, when Mom said, “Honey, you should answer it! What if it’s a handsome man calling to ask you out on a date?”

  I eyed her suspiciously. “You haven’t given my number out to another one of those guys you’re trying to set me up with, have you?”

  “Of course not!” my mother said. “You know I’d never do that!”

  “Then why would a handsome man be calling me?”

  “Maybe his finger slipped,” Nanna suggested. “And he called you by mistake.”

  Stone looked me and raised one eyebrow one-eighth of an inch. “And as soon as he hears your sweet voice he’ll fall madly in love.”

  I smiled and rolled my eyes, but with everyone watching me, I put the phone on speaker and hit the “Answer” button.

  “This is Tiffany Black,” I said into the phone.

  “Tiffany?” said a deep male voice that resonated around the room. “This is Roger Briars. I need you to clear my name.”

  Nanna looked like she was about to faint. Stone looked mildly amused, and everyone else at the table was wide-eyed with shock.

  I quickly took the phone off speaker and walked into the kitchen to have a slightly more private chat with Roger.

  Nanna followed me, hovering a few steps behind me. She clearly didn’t understand the concept of privacy.

  “It’s fate!” she said loudly. “I knew it! Praise the Lord! He knows you need to help poor innocent Roger! You need to take the case!”

  I took a few steps away from her, and Nanna took a few more steps toward me. After her initial shock, she seemed to have made it her mission in life to get me to accept this case.

  In between trying to shoo Nanna away and get some privacy, I said a few polite words to Roger.

  After he introduced himself, and I told him I knew who he was, he said, “I didn’t do it.”

  I said, “Mm-hmm,” as noncommittally as I could. I figured that was more considerate than saying, “That’s what they all say!”