by Anne R. Tan
Raina took the service dog for several walks around the block and made sure he did his business. By the time they went upstairs, the dog was ready for his chew toys and TV. She set a bottle of water and several chewy granola bars on the side table next to her future grandma-in-law and kissed her cheek. She checked the food and water bowls in the mini kitchen area.
Po Po was beckoning at the open door of the hotel suite. “Come along, Rainy. Adventure waits for no one.”
The two of them took the elevator down to the casino floor and made a left toward the convention area. Outside the main hall, several Elvis Presley impersonators were playing together to a small crowd of other rock star impersonators that Raina didn’t recognize.
Po Po made a beeline for the crowd. “Come get me when you’re done,” she called out over her shoulder.
Raina rolled her eyes. So much for her wing woman.
As she approached the plastic table on the side, her gaze scanned the area, looking for Claire Boucher. There was no sign of the convention organizer, but the woman who bumped into her yesterday was handling the table. She was still dressed in the Cher costume. For a moment, Raina wondered if the convention attendees wore their costume the entire week. Yuck.
She smiled at the Cher impersonator. Now, what was her name? Anne? Gloria? Yes, that was it. “Hi, Gloria, I’m looking for Claire Boucher. Is she around?”
Gloria straightened the stack of brochures advertising rock-and-roll collectibles. She was in her mid-thirties, and her almond-shaped brown eyes were heavily shadowed with white glitter makeup. She towered over Raina in her platform boots.
When she spoke, she showed yellow-stained crooked teeth. “No one has seen Claire since dinner. I volunteered to fill in for a bit, but it’s almost my turn on the stage. I’m a dancer.”
Raina blinked. How much dancing could someone do in four-inch platform boots? “Claire left a message on my phone. Two spots opened up after everyone checked in yesterday. I paid for the tickets online as soon as I heard the message. I thought she would have my welcome packet here.”
“Like I said, no one could find her this morning.”
“Did someone check her room? What room is she in?”
Gloria shrugged. “No idea. I’m not part of the inner circle of the planning committee.” She dug under the table and pulled out two blank name badges. She slid them across the table with a permanent marker. “I don’t know where the welcome packets are, but at least you can get inside the convention rooms now.”
Raina’s grin widened. This was as easy as taking candy from a baby.
“Do you have the confirmation email?” Gloria asked.
Raina cringed inwardly. She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her email until she found a PayPal receipt for a pair of shoes she had bought online. She flashed the phone display. “Here’s the PayPal receipt.”
Gloria flicked a perfunctory glance at the screen and returned to straightening the table. “Don’t forget Talent Night is Saturday. There is a thousand-dollar cash prize for the best impersonator show.”
Raina thanked Gloria and turned to search for her grandma. This was amazing! Now both she and her grandma could wander through the convention to search for Claire. She was probably inside one of the conference rooms, hoping to avoid Raina. After all, she had to expect Raina would come looking for her.
As Raina and Po Po wandered the exhibit and various convention halls, they scanned the crowd, though it was hard to recognize anyone in the sea of sequins, wigs, and flashy guitars.
Po Po grabbed Raina’s forearm. “Look!” She pointed at a dark-skinned man with a thin mustache.
Raina squinted. Must be pretty good makeup to turn a woman into a man. “Are you sure that’s Claire?”
“No, that’s Little Richard.” Po Po’s eye glowed. “I must get his autograph.” She made a beeline for the impersonator.
Raina tugged at her grandma’s hand. “Whoa! This isn’t a sightseeing expedition. Besides, these are wannabes, not the real deal. We’re here to look for Claire Boucher.”
“I don’t even know what the woman looks like. When she ran by, I only got a glimpse of her dry hair. She needs a deep conditioning.”
Raina suppressed a sigh. Trust her grandma to notice the most irrelevant detail. “This is like looking for a bean in a rice bin. Let’s find the general manager. Maybe we can sweet talk him into giving up Claire Boucher’s room number.”
“Or he could tell us where in the world Matthew is,” Po Po said, giving Little Richard a longing glance. “And then we’ll need disguises to blend in with this crowd.”
Raina had expected Willie Machado to be a big beefy guy, someone that could be the bouncer at a nightclub. Yes, she was stereotyping, but this was Las Vegas.
Instead, the general manager was a busty five-foot-six tawny blonde with eyes the color of brandy. She wore a tight black pants suit, the kind a model might wear at a photo shoot, and three-inch stiletto pumps. When she spoke, she had the gravelly voice of a senior citizen who had been chain-smoking her entire life even though she was not a day over forty.
“What did you say his name was again?” Willie asked, her hands folded in front of her on the desk. The talon-like nails looked like a formable weapon a la Wolverine. A walkie-talkie and a closed file folder were the only two items in front of her.
“Elliott Matthew Louie,” Raina repeated for the third time. She suppressed the urge to sigh. She didn’t believe Willie was being difficult on purpose, but the general manager might have some unacknowledged hearing loss.
Raina reached into her purse and pulled out one of Matthew’s business cards and slid it across the desk. “He’s a homicide detective for Gold Springs, California, but sometimes he freelances. Someone contacted him a few weeks ago to hire him to check the security system for this hotel-casino. We’ve been here for three days already.”
Willie picked up the card and studied it, flipping it over to look at the back. “Never heard of him. We don’t hire people off the street to work on our security system.” She slid the card back across the desk.
“Matthew isn’t someone just off the street,” Po Po said. There was a hint of defensiveness in her voice. “He is an ex-Marine, worked for the FBI, and this security job came from a friend.”
Raina patted Po Po’s knee. When did Matthew work for the FBI? She dismissed the thought for another time. There was still so much she didn’t know about her fiancé.
As much as she loved the defensiveness in her grandma’s voice, she didn’t want to irritate Willie. The general manager didn’t believe the hotel-casino hired a consultant to check on their security system, and short of whipping out a signed contract, Raina didn’t see how she could convince Willie otherwise. Time to explore a different path.
“One of the perks for the security job was the two suites. If the hotel-casino didn’t hire Matthew, who paid for the rooms?” Raina asked.
Matthew had checked them in and handed Raina and the grandmas their key card, so she had no idea who booked the suites.
Po Po gave Raina a nod of approval.
Willie glanced at the smartwatch on her wrist. “Ladies, I have twenty pounds of fish sitting in ice chests outside the kitchen, a broken water main, and I have over eight hundred Elvis Presley impersonators walking around the hotel. I have to go.” She stood and gestured at the door.
“Someone came into my room at five in the morning using a key card,” Raina said, staying put on the chair. She wasn’t leaving without some answers. “Does your front desk give out keys without checking identification?”
Willie’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Sun, we always verify the identity before issuing key cards. You said five AM?” At Raina’s nod, Willie’s frown deepened. She picked up the walkie-talkie and spoke into it. When she finished her conversation, she addressed Raina. “My head of security will meet you outside my office. He can go through the video feed of the corridor outside your room.”
Raina stood. Well, at l
east this was something. “Would the front desk be able to help me figure who booked our suites?”
Willie walked around her desk and stood next to the doorway of her office. “Their computers would have the information. And once they verify your identity, they should be able to help you.”
As Raina and her grandma stepped out into the hallway, Willie’s walkie-talkie crackled to life. Willie returned to her desk and turned up the volume knob. Raina and Po Po lingered at the doorway, waiting for security as instructed.
“...dead body…laundry room...call the police...”
Raina’s pulse jumped at the message. A stranger in her room, and now a dead body in the service hall. What were the odds? She hoped these events had nothing to do with Matthew, and until she had more information, it wouldn’t hurt to keep her eyes and ears open.
Willie grabbed the walkie-talkie and pressed a button. “Willie here. Can you repeat what you said?” She glanced up to see both Raina and Po Po staring at her. As the message came through a second time, she closed the office door.
Po Po pressed her ear to the door. “I can’t hear a thing.” She scowled at the door. “Who do you think is dead? One of the employees? Or maybe the Mafia knocked off someone for the casino.”
Her grandma’s eyes glowed with excitement. Any minute now, her grandma would insist on checking out the laundry room. There were only so many hours a person could spend in front of the penny machine and the buffet line before the brain turned to mush.
Raina strolled toward the elevator. She was doing this for Matthew. After all, when he surfaced again, he might like to know what was happening in the hotel-casino.
Tell yourself what lies you need, girl, said a small voice inside her head.
Raina ignored the comment. She knew what she was doing. She didn’t want to be the woman left behind waiting for her man. Any action was better than picking her belly button lint. And it wasn’t like she was committing to investigate the death. She was just another lookie-loo. There were plenty of those at the scene of an accident.
“We should go check out the laundry room,” Po Po said, trotting to keep up. “If Willie gets there before we do, she’ll make us leave. We can always check in with security later. Claire Boucher isn’t going anywhere with the convention in full swing.”
“Why do you think we're power walking to the elevator?” Raina asked.
Po Po gave Raina a wide beaming smile. “That’s my girl.”
3
Dirty Laundry
It took Raina and her grandma fifteen minutes to find the service hall. They had to pretend to be new employees looking for the general manager. The first uniformed employee they asked gave them a suspicious look and directed them to one of the casino floor supervisors. The second employee was more trusting and gestured at the rear wall next to the buffet.
Raina and Po Po strolled through a set of unattractive double swinging doors and into the service hall with its own freight elevator. The carpeted floor became a beige tile. The wood wainscoting disappeared, and the walls were a drab off white. Even the lighting appeared dimmer as if someone in management was trying to save costs by cutting corners.
As Raina and Po Po approached the laundry room, there wasn’t anyone in the hallway to keep out busybodies. From the doorway, Raina saw two industrial size washer and dryer sets and white laundry bags stacked in front of them. One bag was partially opened, revealing the victim’s face.
Raina gasped. She staggered forward, grabbing onto the door frame for support. The victim was Claire Boucher. Raina’s gaze shifted down from the face to the neck. Deep bruise marks circled her neck. Someone had strangled the poor woman.
She blinked several times, but the scene in front of her didn’t disappear. The harsh fluorescent light of the laundry room washed out all the colors in the world, except for the victim’s red hair. Stainless steel, white floors, white light, and red hair. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed several times but couldn’t get rid of the taste in her mouth.
Po Po patted Raina’s back. “Maybe we should get out of here.” Her grandma’s voice was unsteady. The hand on Raina’s back shook.
Raina dragged her gaze away from the victim to glance at Po Po. Her grandma’s ashen face snapped Raina out of her frozen position. They had to get out of here before her grandma passed out from the shock. She held onto her grandma’s arm, and they turned away from the doorway of the laundry room.
“What are you two doing here?” someone snapped from behind them.
Raina’s head jerked up.
Willie scowled at them. Next to her was a man in a crisp white shirt, black tie, and black suit. Everything about the man was square—square nose, square jaw, and a square tank of a body. He towered over the tawny blonde in her three-inch heels. His hooded dark brown eyes hid his emotion and thoughts. He would have made a good bouncer.
“We were heading out to my car.” Raina pointed a shaky finger at the side entrance of the hotel-casino.
“Why…why is that woman in a laundry bag? Who…who was she?” Po Po asked. There was a tinge of hysteria in her grandma’s voice.
Raina blinked at a sudden thought. Her grandma didn’t recognize Claire Boucher, but the security team would have seen Raina chasing Claire on the video surveillance before the discovery of her body. The whole thing would make Raina a suspect. In the eyes of the security team, it would look like she had returned to the scene of the crime. Yikes! Coming down here was a serious mistake.
Willie eyed them and spoke over her shoulder. “Hendricks, I thought you posted a guard.”
Hendricks pulled out his cell phone and tapped on it. “Let me find out.” His phone chirped, and he glanced at the message. “She had to go to the ladies room.”
“The pregnant one?”
“Yes.”
Willie pressed her lips into a thin line.
Hendricks gave an apologetic shrug. “She’s the only one available.”
Willie rubbed the temple of her head. “Put Miss Sun and her grandma in the room with the maids. They can’t leave the crime scene until after the police speak with them.”
Hendricks gestured for Raina and Po Po to follow him. His dark hooded eyes regarded them without any emotion. This was just business for the man. For a moment Raina wondered what other messes he might have cleaned up for the hotel-casino.
Raina straightened and stood her ground. She didn’t want to be held in a cell like a criminal. After all, this was Las Vegas. How did she know this casino wasn’t run by the mob? They got rid of problems by burying them in the desert sand. No siree. She was staying out here where someone could hear her scream.
“You have no authority to detain us,” Raina said. She didn’t want to sound confrontational, but she wasn’t willing to be a chump either. “We’re more than happy to cooperate with the police, but we’ll stay right here.”
“How do we know you’re not connected to the mob?” Po Po asked.
Though Raina still didn’t like her grandma’s pale coloring, at least her voice sounded more like her normal self.
“We don’t want to disappear.” Po Po made air quotes around the last word. “I’ve seen the movie Casino.”
Raina suppressed a smile. It looked like her feisty grandma was back, and on the same wavelength with Raina.
Willie rolled her brandy-colored eyes. “I don’t have time for this nonsense. Just stay here and don’t disturb anything.”
Willie and Hendricks turned and went into the laundry room. They came outside almost immediately. Willie closed the laundry room door with a napkin from her pocket. Both of them were frowning with that determined look of professionals taking care of dirty business.
“Get someone to stand guard and wait for the police, Hendricks,” Willie said. “And have someone posted outside the entrance to guide the police back here without going through the casino floors. I don’t want to alarm any of our guests. Text me when the police get here. I need to call corporate.”
; Raina never gave much thought to the business side of the hotel-casino. Was corporate a code word for the mob or did Willie mean a head office somewhere like your average Fortune 500 company? This thought made Raina feel better. A corporation surely didn’t bury bodies in the desert? So they were probably safe enough from the mob. And who put the idea of the mob in her head in the first place?
Willie strolled away, her heels clicking on the tile floor. Hendricks stood in front of the laundry door, feet spread, hands tapping on his cell phone. Probably to carry out the instructions issued by his boss.
Raina glanced around at the ceiling and noticed two security cameras in the middle of the service corridor, one pointing back to the main area and one pointing toward the laundry room and side entrance. Hopefully, the cameras recorded who was in the service hall with Claire at the time of her death.
But if the killer approached this corridor with his or her head ducked down, the second camera would only capture the person’s back. If the person wore baggy clothes, security might not even be able to tell if the killer was male or female. Not much use in a murder investigation.
Raina shivered at the thought. There was no doubt someone had strangled Claire Boucher and stuffed her in a laundry bag between 5 AM when she was last seen running out of Raina’s room and a few minutes ago. Would she have died if Raina didn’t chase her out into the open? There was no way to tell, but Raina could not help but feel guilty for her contribution to Claire’s demise.
At this point, the only thing she could do for the poor woman was to help track down the killer. She gave Hendricks a sideways glance. She whispered to her grandma in Chinese, “Distract him for me. I want to look around outside.”
“I’m on it, Sherlock,” her grandma mouthed.
Po Po staggered toward Hendricks, flapping a hand on her face. “Young man,” she called out in a reedy voice.
Hendricks glanced up from his smartphone.