There was not an ounce of sympathy in Stone’s dark eyes. “The class is tough because it’s tough to fight off an attacker. It could save your life. And Ian’s.”
I looked off to one side and groaned. “All right, all right. I’ll go next week. I promise.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No, no—you don’t need to. Really.”
“I insist.”
“Of course you do.” I felt a surge of annoyance toward Stone. What was he, the Krav Maga police?
Suddenly, Stone gave me a rare smile. “So, tell me about this old lady.”
He sat down on the chair opposite the couch, and I sank back into the cushions. I told him all about Gladys and James and Susan, and he listened quietly.
“Sad business,” he said finally. “You should’ve charged Susan more.”
I burst out laughing. “I wish I had! If only I’d known how complicated it’d be.”
He nodded. “And what’s the deal with Harvey Gaudet’s murder?”
Again, I brought him up to speed—including the fact that we were at a loss.
“But I do know one thing for certain,” I said. “Today’s attack proved to me that Nadia’s got the mentality of a killer.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, clearly the man who came after me was working for Nadia.”
“And you know this, how?”
“He was…” I tried to search for a description that wasn’t offensive. Then I realized I was worrying about being offensive toward a guy who’d tried to kill me. “He was immature and silly,” I said bluntly.
Stone looked at me seriously. “What an insult, sending you the immature attackers instead of the experienced ones.”
I smiled. “Well—he got scared off quite easily, and I’m sure I could’ve overpowered him in a fight.” I bit my tongue to stop from mentioning Krav Maga. “One of Nadia’s guys attacked Roger. Nadia thinks that Ian and I are working for Roger, which is true enough. But she’s convinced he’s a killer and he shouldn’t get off.”
Stone nodded his head slightly, encouraging me to go with my theory.
“The other day, Nadia sicced her group against us—but just in a mean chant. She sicced the guy onto Roger, the one who attacked Roger in the casino. I’m sure it was one of her guys who attacked me tonight.”
“Which makes you think Nadia doesn’t have qualms about killing.”
A chill settled onto my heart. Put like that, Nadia Tumal sounded like a sinister, cold-blooded psychopath—which she probably was.
“Perhaps Nadia paid someone to kill Harvey. I’m not sure what her deal was with Pete. But anyway, I’m convinced she’s got something to do with Harvey’s death and Roger being blamed for it. I just need to prove it.”
“You could try talking to her again.”
“Is that what you’d do?”
Stone’s gaze didn’t waver from mine. “No. But maybe you shouldn’t do what I’d do.”
I dropped my gaze and nodded. I didn’t agree with him. If I was serious about proving that Nadia was a killer, I’d need to take some real action.
I was still thinking about what I’d do when there was another knock on the door. This time, I opened it to find two young-looking police officers with notepads in their hands.
“You called in an attack?” one of them said.
I nodded and let them in. I spent what felt like ages retelling the events, and Stone stayed where he was, watching us intently.
Finally, the duo left, and Stone stood up.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said. “Call me anytime you need.”
My heart ached as I thought of my inability to call Ryan, but I smiled and nodded and Stone, and closed the door behind him.
I couldn’t forget Ryan’s gorgeous gray eyes, the way he’d smile slowly. The way he’d left me all of a sudden. The fact that he might not be coming back.
I tried to push those thoughts out of my mind and focus on Nadia Tumal. She was hiding something, and I was determined to prove it.
Chapter 33
I tossed and turned in bed for a while, drifting off and having strange dreams, but not getting any real sleep.
Finally, I woke up at seven. I had a plan.
Dialing Jack’s number, I held my breath as it rang three times, and then he finally answered.
“Tiffany,” he said. “This is a pleasure.”
“I’m afraid it’s about work.” I wasn’t sure about calling Jack, but he had a lot of clout with the police force. Elwood would never cooperate if I suggested something unconventional, and my friend Emily didn’t have much influence over the Harvey Gaudet case. But Jack was close friends with the commissioner, and he could get things done.
“Whatever you need,” Jack said, “I’m on it.”
I nodded, knowing I’d made the right call, and told him what I’d planned.
And then I hung up, finally falling into a deep sleep.
I woke up after midday, showered, and got dressed. I texted Ian to come over with Snowflake, and then I put a frozen pizza into the oven.
By the time Ian and Snowflake showed up, the pizza was ready. Snowflake was starting to show a bit more interest in human food, so we set aside tiny bits of pizza crust for her, and settled down in front of the TV.
I turned on a local channel, and as the news came up, Ian and I dug into our pizza.
“Breaking news right now,” said the newscaster, “Roger Briars, a popular singer at the Tremonte Casino, has been found dead in his suite.”
Ian gasped and I paused, mid-bite.
The screen switched to a clip of Roger singing, and then the newscaster explained, “Roger was discovered by housekeeping with what appeared to be stab wounds. Using video footage from the casino, the police have arrested a man who was previously seen in front of the Tremonte protesting Roger Briars’ alleged killing spree. The police are also questioning Nadia Tumal, who is believed to have ordered the man to kill Roger.”
I chewed my food, not tasting what I was eating.
The report went on to talk about Roger’s past with Alicia Tumal, and the fact that Alicia’s sister, Nadia, had always blamed Roger for her sister’s death. The report also showed the video footage of Roger stuffing Harvey’s body into the oven, and explained how he was being investigated for that murder.
By the time the report started to talk about Roger’s surge in popularity, I switched off the TV.
Ian seemed to be eating as mindlessly as me.
“We’ve failed,” he said finally. “We got our client killed.”
I chewed some more and swallowed. “I can’t believe it!”
“This is a first,” Ian complained. “We’ve never had a client get killed before!”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. Nadia’s guy tried to kill Roger once before, and she sent some goon over to attack me last night.”
Ian stared at me in shock. “You haven’t told me this!”
So I filled him in about the attacker, and how he ran off.
Ian nodded. “At least you should be safe now. Nadia’s not going to try to get you killed since you’re not working for Roger anymore. Can’t work for a dead guy.”
“I feel strange,” I admitted.
“We’ve failed,” Ian moaned. “We’re big fat failures!”
We sat in silence for a few minutes after his pronouncement.
I tried to figure out how I felt about Roger’s death. I hadn’t been overly fond of him, but I didn’t think he deserved to die.
“I should’ve told Roger to beef up his security,” I said finally. “I called Jack and tried to get the police security around Roger and Nadia increased this morning, but clearly I’ve failed.” I sighed. “But we can’t let Roger down. We can’t let Nadia get away with this.”
Ian nodded emphatically. “We need to take her down. She’s the real killer, not Roger.”
“They could both be killers,” I said, thinking of Alicia. “But yeah, she defin
itely needs to be brought to justice.”
“How?” said Ian.
“I’ve got a plan.” We finished our food, and I stacked our empty plates in the sink. “Let’s get going. Nadia won’t know what hit her.”
Chapter 34
Ian and I walked over to the Tremonte, and as I’d expected, Nadia and her posse were nowhere in sight.
Instead, near the entrance to the casino were flowers, stuffed toys, cards, and more flowers. The mourners were going all out to convey their emotions, and I wondered idly what would happen to these donations. A large, blown-up photo of Roger Briars rested against the wall behind the offerings.
“I guess Nadia and her posse should be happy,” Ian said. “They got what they wanted.”
“It actually feels kind of empty without them here. I expect they’ll show up at some point and maybe destroy this little Roger Briars mini-shrine.”
“They’ll have to be super stealthy,” Ian said. “The police must be keeping an eye on all of them.”
“Maybe,” I nodded. “But Nadia’s group seems to be kind of ruthless.”
We walked the rest of the way to the RV park just off-Strip where Nadia had parked her RV. It was a fairly large lot, and Ian and I shuffled forward, trying to identify Nadia’s vehicle.
We saw her before we saw her RV. She was standing in front of another RV, chatting with a petite brunette, as a tall, lanky man approached them carrying a half-dozen pizza boxes. The trio went up the RV steps and disappeared inside.
“Do we go up to them?” Ian asked.
I shook my head. “Let’s find Nadia’s RV.”
We noticed it a few spots over, and I pulled out my lockpicking tool kit to jimmy open the door. Ian and I slipped inside and drew the front door closed behind us.
Inside the RV was nice and cool, a welcome respite from the early afternoon Vegas heat outside. Nadia had pulled all the blinds closed, so I flicked on my phone and pressed the flashlight function. Placing my phone on the driver’s seat, I used it as a lamp and looked around.
In the semi-darkness, the RV looked quite nice. It wasn’t a luxury model, but it was fairly modern and seemed roomy enough for one person. There was a countertop and tiny kitchenette against one wall, and toward the back, I spotted a door that must’ve led to the bathroom. There were two long padded benches facing each other at the back of the RV, and I guessed that Nadia unfolded them at night and turned them into one big bed.
“This is a spiffy model,” Ian said. “I guess it wasn’t cheap.”
“Probably cheaper than an apartment in LA, where Nadia used to live.”
I picked up my phone and placed it on the tiny kitchen countertop. All the better to have some more light near the back. I spotted another countertop opposite the one where I’d placed my phone and turned to face it. There were knickknacks and paperwork on top of it, and I started by picking up a piece of paper, with meaningless numbers scrawled on it.
“What’re we looking for?” Ian asked.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Something tying her to Harvey? Or even to Roger.”
“How about this?”
Ian held up a photo he’d found lying on one of the benches at the back. It was of Roger, except his eyes had been scratched out, and devil horns drawn on top of his head.
“Real mature,” I muttered.
Ian shrugged. “She’s a psycho. Probably maturity is the least of her concerns.” He brightened suddenly. “Hey, I’m sure I seem super mature now, compared to her.”
I looked over at Ian and nodded. “Congratulations.”
Ian headed over to the bathroom and peered inside. “Nothing here,” he declared. “It’s tiny and it’s only got bath products.”
“She must do her makeup and hair at this counter,” I said. I pulled open a drawer. Bingo. Lipsticks, mascara, and eyeliner.
I pulled open another drawer. This one contained a few small jewelry boxes, and I picked up a wooden box with a small, delicate carving on its lid.
I flipped it open, and immediately, my heart dropped to my feet.
“Ian,” I croaked out. “Come here.”
He rushed over immediately, peering over my shoulder. For a few seconds, we both stared wordlessly at the hairpin.
“This means—” Ian began.
But he was interrupted by the RV door being flung open.
An angry Nadia stood in the doorway, backlit by the harsh desert sun.
“You!” she growled. “What’re you doing in here? I thought I saw two people going into my RV! Should’ve known it was you losers…”
As she ranted, she stepped inside and pulled the door closed behind herself.
And then, she saw what Ian and I were staring at and stopped talking, her lips parted and her eyes wide.
Nadia’s gaze met mine. “You… what’re you…”
She gulped, not finishing her sentence.
“Why do you have this?” I said.
I showed her the hairpin, and it glinted bright in the white glow of the flashlight. The delicate daisy design in gold shone warmly.
Nadia took a step back.
She shook her head, and for a moment, I thought she was going to deny all knowledge of the pin’s existence.
But then her face crumpled, and she staggered over to one of the benches, where she sat down heavily.
“You two.” She sniffed and didn’t go on talking. Instead, she let her head sink into her hands, and she buried her face.
Ian flicked a switch and a garish yellow light filled the RV’s interior.
I put the hairpin away, sitting down opposite Nadia. Ian leaned against the kitchen countertop and watched us.
“What’s going on?” I asked Nadia gently. “Why do you have Alicia’s pendant? Why did you turn it into a hairpin?”
Nadia continued to sit hunched over, her head still buried in her hands.
I said, “You killed your sister, didn’t you?”
Nadia looked up at me and let her hands fall to her sides again.
Her eyes were haunted, and the lines on her bony face seemed to be etched in concrete.
“Yes,” she said simply.
I tilted my head. It all made sense now.
“You got the guy to attack Roger in the casino yesterday, the guy who was arrested before he could do any harm.”
Nadia nodded.
“And you asked that guy to attack me in my apartment,” I went on. “You sent him over to kill me.”
“I didn’t want to kill you,” she protested. “I mean, I didn’t say, ‘Go kill Tiffany.’”
“Then what did you say?”
“I asked him to put you out of commission. How he did that was up to him.”
My gut twisted in disgust. “How considerate of you. He could choose whether he wanted to kill me, or just maim me.”
Nadia looked at me, her eyes wild with despair. “It was nothing personal. I just couldn’t let you succeed in getting Roger off the hook.”
“Off the hook for what?”
“Harvey Gaudet’s murder, of course.”
I shook my head. “You’re nuts.”
“No, I’m not,” Nadia protested. “I needed to see Roger brought to justice. I needed to see him pay. Pay for what he did to me, what he did to my sister.”
“He did nothing to you,” I said steadily. “He did nothing to your sister but ask her to marry him. You’re the one who killed Alicia Tumal.”
“No!” Nadia shook her head vehemently. “He made me do it! He made me kill my sister. My own sister! Roger!”
She spat out the word in disgust, her eyes hardened with hatred.
“Okay,” I said gently, hoping I could get her to talk some more. “How did he make you kill your sister?”
Nadia seemed to transform before my eyes. The hatred went out, to be replaced by something different, something more naïve and harder to define. Her face softened. She said, “Do you know what it’s like to love someone? To really, really love someone?”
I wasn’t sure. I’d thought I loved Ryan.
When I didn’t answer, Ian said, “Sure. I think I love Sally.”
Nadia turned to face him. “You don’t love this Sally. When you love someone, you know you love them. You don’t just think it. You know it in your bones—in your gut. You breathe them, day in and day out. Images of them go with you wherever you go. You see them everywhere. You can’t go more than a few minutes without thinking of them. You want them, you want to be with them, constantly.”
“Wow,” said Ian breathlessly. “That’s beautiful. I’ve never been in love, then.”
Nadia nodded. “I have. I’ve been in love with Roger.”
“And he was in love with Alicia,” I said softly.
“No!” Nadia spat the word out sharply and turned to face me again. “He wasn’t in love with her! He told me! He said she was good to be with and good for his career. That was it. That wasn’t love.”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said, as if trying to console her.
“I was in love with him,” Nadia mused. “I was the one he should’ve been with. I knew he would see it—if it just weren’t for Alicia.”
She fell silent and after a few moments I said, “So you got her out of the way.”
Nadia leaned forward, her eyes wild and determined. “I had to, don’t you see? As long as Alicia was there, Roger would never notice me! Never understand that it was us who were meant to be together. I had to kill her—he made me kill her.”
She fell silent again, and for a few long seconds, the only sound in the RV came from outside. The noise of a dog barking in the distance, laughter, and footsteps walking here and there.
“What happened after Alicia died?” I asked. “Did you try to get together with Roger?”
Disgust filled her eyes once again, and shook her head. “No. I hated him. Hated what he’d made me into.”
“So you blamed him for Alicia’s death,” I mused out loud. It was clear that Nadia wasn’t just trying to make a scapegoat of Roger; she really believed in her own demented way that Roger was the true killer.
Lounge Singers And Liars In Las Vegas Page 17
