Reunions and Revelations in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery

by A. R. Winters

  Maeve stared up at Stone. He did not move. With an annoyed sigh, the housekeeper turned around and then plopped down onto one of the high-backed chairs near the wall, arms folded across her chest and an annoyed expression on her face.

  “Where’s Ian?” Midori demanded.

  “He had to get someone.”

  It took a moment for my words to sink in. Then every pair of eyes turned to face me.

  “Someone?” Roman asked.

  “Yes. Someone you were convinced was both a murderer, and dead.”

  He cocked his head at me. “Norm?”

  “That’s right.”

  There was a knock at the door. Stone stepped aside, opened it, and let Ian and Norman in.

  His hands still bound, Norman shuffled in, still wearing the same hat and jacket from earlier.

  Gasps and whispers filled the room.

  “Good morning,” Norman said.

  He didn’t seem to have caught on to the fact that we no longer believed his tall tale. You’d have thought the fact his hands were still bound would have done it.

  “Norman,” I said, “why don’t you tell everyone what happened the night Beryl died.”

  “Pay attention everyone,” I said. “It’s an interesting story.”

  “Don’t believe a word he says,” Maeve said before he could even begin. “He’s a lying, traitorous piece of scum.”

  “Maeve? If you could let him speak?”

  Norm began. He told everyone how he had crashed his car, and stumbled back to the house in a concussed state.

  He told them how Maeve had treated his wounds, and then loaded him up with morphine.

  “During the night, she snuck into Beryl’s room, to kill her. She took the knife that Beryl kept under her pillow—”

  “Wait,” I said. “That knife was Beryl’s?”

  “Sure. She bought it at an auction in New York. It’s an old piece from Vietnam.”

  Midori let out a loud laugh. “I said China! I was close!”

  “She kept it for self-defense. But Maeve knew that. She pulled it out from under the pillow, which woke Beryl. There was a small struggle. The lamp got shattered, and Maeve stabbed Beryl.”

  “I did not! Lies!” Maeve was standing up, waving her finger in the air.

  “Sit down, please, Maeve,” I said. “We’ll give you a chance to tell your side of the story in a moment. Can you do that for us?”

  “You’ll listen to me?” She demanded.

  We all agreed we would.

  “Don’t believe a word he says,” she said, a final sullen command before she sat down again.

  “She hated me, and she hated Beryl. She pretended to nurse me so she would have access to me. She fed me drugs. She was going to make me overdose on them!”

  “Lies!” Maeve shrieked. She snapped her mouth shut again immediately after, her point made.

  “I snuck out, went somewhere I knew was safe, and hid for my life. I was weak and injured, and scared. Maybe it wasn’t the best decision, but I was still suffering from a mild concussion.”

  “And last night?” I prodded. We wanted him to get his whole story out there for everyone to hear.

  “Last night, I heard someone coming, and so I hid. Again. It’s lucky I did. Maeve discovered where I was hiding, and she shot the bed I should have been sleeping in. Then she burned down the cabin. I hid, quaking, shivering, terrified in the bushes until Ian, and Tiffany and her boyfriend showed up and rescued me.”

  My cheeks flushed. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

  The corners of Stone’s lips quivered. Then he was stoic once more.

  “Sounds like quite an ordeal,” Uncle Joe said to him.

  “Maybe that’ll teach you not to write yourself into other people’s wills,” Jini said to him.

  “Maeve,” I said, “I expect you have a different story to tell us, don’t you?”

  She was on her feet in a flash. “Make sure he doesn’t speak!” She jabbed her finger at Norm. I got the feeling she wished it was a knife she was jabbing, and that she would have liked to have been much closer to him while she did it.”

  “Norm? If you could extend the same courtesy to Maeve?”

  He shook his head. “No, you shouldn’t listen to her. She’s a killer. And an attempted killer—of me—as well. I suggest you arrest her and detain her now. We can’t let her speak. She’ll confuse things. She should be gagged.”

  “Norm, either you agree to be quiet, or—” I gave him an intense look.

  “We’ll make you be quiet,” Ian said right into his ear with more menace than I was accustomed to hearing from my partner.

  “Fine.”

  Maeve stood in front of the fireplace.

  All eyes were on her.

  And she told us her tale.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Maeve clasped her hands in front of her, took a deep breath, raised her head, and stared straight ahead.

  “Norm is a crook. A crook and a liar. A crook, a liar, a thief, and a murderer.”

  Norman looked like he was about to speak, but Ian whispered something in his ear that made him snap his lips shut again.

  “But I, like you, was taken in by him. I always knew he was a liar—I mean, a lawyer, but I did not realize how corrupt he was until a few days ago, when he persuaded Beryl to change his will to favor himself.”

  “Then, of course, the storm came. It was the perfect opportunity for him. He drove away and then crashed his car into a tree. That’s right, isn’t it? It wasn’t actually hit by the avalanche, was it?”

  “That’s right,” Roman confirmed.

  “In fact, he probably caused the avalanche,” Maeve said. “That spot is susceptible to rock falls. He probably set one off deliberately.” She shrugged, having no way to prove it. “He cut his head, then wandered back to the house to play the victim. I was taken in. We all were. My old nurse training kicked in. I had to help him. It’s in our blood—once a nurse, always a nurse. Even though I neither liked, nor trusted the man, I did the best I could for him.”

  Maeve shook her head at the memory, recalling a terrible mistake. “I did give him a morphine pill that first night, because I wanted him to stay calm and still. Little did I know, his head wound was largely fake—there was no concussion—and he didn’t take the morphine immediately. He hid it. That night, he murdered Beryl, and then snuck back into his room and took the morphine pill. The next day, as it was beginning to wear off, he maintained his pretense of being severely concussed. He sure fooled me.”

  Norm was glaring at her from his seat on the sofa, while Ian hovered right behind him, ready to whisper sweet somethings into his ear. Goodness knows what Ian had been saying to Norm, but it was keeping him quiet.

  “I assume Norm got bored of his little act, and he heard that you wanted to interview him, Tiffany, when we were in his room. So he snuck away—he probably knew you’d see right through his lies!” Maeve shouted the final venomous word right at Norm’s face. He melted back into the sofa.

  “Norm realized he had to cast suspicion elsewhere. And who did he decide on? Me. Me, who he had already stolen from by getting Beryl to change her will. Me, who had looked after him. Me, who has never wanted anything more than to do my job and be fairly compensated. So he made up another story and burned the cabin down. There was probably evidence in there linking him to Beryl’s death. And then he waited for you to come along and ‘find’ him. It looks like his plan nearly worked.”

  “Thank you, Maeve,” I said to her. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  Maeve gave me a curt nod and went to sit on one of the chairs against the wall, closest to Stone.

  “Now you’ve all heard Maeve’s story,” I said, “and Norman’s. Are you satisfied?”

  Roman was on his feet in an instant. “Of course we’re not satisfied! Which of them did it? They can’t both be telling the truth!”

  “It was a rhetorical question,” I said to him with a smile. Midori snorted. “Of cou
rse you’re not satisfied. I bet you can pick half a dozen holes in each of their stories, am I right?”

  Everyone made sounds of agreement. Even if they hadn’t seen the holes in the two stories, they weren’t about to admit it.

  “No,” I said. “Here’s the thing. They’re both lying.”

  “Both lying?” Uncle Joe said. He let out an annoyed sigh. “That just makes it even more confusing.”

  “Indeed. It took me a while to put it all together as well. But thanks to Stone, I put the final pieces of the puzzle together this morning.”

  “Let’s hope you’ve got it right, this time,” Midori said with a roll of her eyes. I really liked Yumi a whole lot better than Midori.

  “Go on,” Roman said. “Enlighten us.”

  So I did.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was my time to stand in front of the fire, the center of attention. From the expectant look on everyone’s faces, they were quite enjoying the entertainment we’d been providing them so far that morning.

  “So,” I said to the eager faces, “there was some truth in what both Maeve and Norm told us. But as with many things, the full truth lies between them.”

  “Get on with it,” Roman said. “Skip the flowery language.”

  “It’s not flowery,” I said defensively. “I’m just setting the scene. Moving on. In short, Norm and Maeve were in this together, until they had a falling out.”

  “What did they fall out over?” Roman asked.

  “You,” I told him.

  “Me?”

  “Yes. Now if you’ll let me explain?”

  Roman nodded his assent, a suspicious but curious look on his face. He looked ready to defend himself from any more accusations at a moment’s notice.

  “You may remember that Maeve was always mean about Norman. Even before we met him, she was saying nasty things about him. This was, of course, an act.”

  “Why?” Uncle Joe asked.

  “Because Maeve and Norman were in a relationship. One that of course had to remain secret from Beryl, and thus, from all of us as well.

  “No!” Norm shouted.

  “Lies!” Maeve added in agreement.

  “Yes, and not lies. Truth.”

  “Prove it!” Norm shouted. Ian leaned over and whispered something else in his ear. Norman sullenly closed his mouth again.

  “Thanks to Stone, I can prove it. Stone?”

  Everyone’s eyes swiveled in his direction. He still stood in front of the door, guarding it.

  “This morning I made some calls. I spoke to a law firm, based in Las Vegas. They didn’t want to speak to me. But I have some influence. I only had one question. One question that Miss Black gave to me. She wanted to know who the primary beneficiary of Norm’s own will was. The will was on file with the law firm. I got the name of the sole beneficiary.”

  “And?” Roman asked.

  “Maeve Baker is the sole beneficiary of Norman’s will.”

  That little nugget got everyone onto the edges of their seats. Even Midori looked enthralled as the revelations began to unfold.

  “Their plan was thus: Norman kills Beryl, and then goes missing—but without serious suspicion, since Maeve will claim he was severely concussed. Norman is the benefactor of Beryl’s will. Some time later, Norman would be declared dead, and Maeve would inherit the lot. Norman and Maeve would then have the house and the rest of Beryl’s estate to share between them.”

  “Perhaps Norm wouldn’t even have to be declared dead,” Jini said. “He could just reappear a few months later and say he had amnesia.”

  I looked at Norman to see if that rang any bells with him. If it did, he kept it off his face. Maeve gave him a sharp look though.

  “That’s another possibility,” I confirmed. “But that was the gist of their plan. I expect they intended to put it into action sometime in the future. Not the very day that Beryl signed the will. But the storm provided the perfect opportunity they needed, and they jumped at it. They may have had to wait for months for another similar chance. Having us all here was both a blessing and a curse: they could try and deflect blame our way, but at the same time, it meant there were many more potential witnesses.”

  “Where do I come into it?” Roman asked.

  “You told me in the library that you had seen Norman on a date with someone in Las Vegas, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “We thought you were lying. Why didn’t you tell us that the first time we spoke to you?”

  “I told you, we forgot, didn’t we Midori?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, like we remember every greaseball we see in some restaurant. We’ve got better things to think about, you know?”

  “So you really did just forget?”

  Midori shrugged. “I had other things on my mind, like keeping up the stupid act of being some dumb pushover.”

  “You didn’t seem like a dumb pushover. You seemed like a very pleasant young lady.” Oh no, I sounded like Nanna. A pleasant young lady? What was that?

  Midori snorted at me. “Whatever.”

  “What’s the relevance?” Uncle Joe asked me.

  “Norman had been keeping tabs on our whole investigation. In the library was a listening device, set up to broadcast to a receiver in the cabin. He heard Roman and Midori tell us that Norman had a lady friend in Las Vegas. Then, later on, when we relayed that same information to Maeve, he knew he was in trouble.”

  “So Norm was cheating on Maeve?” Jini asked me.

  “Yep. He was cheating on, or just plain cheating, everyone.”

  “Typical lawyer,” Marcus said with a cheeky grin. It earned him a smack on the arm from Jini, as well as a frown from Amber.

  “Norm heard us mention this information to Maeve over his radio. At the time, her shocked reaction puzzled me, but it eventually made sense once we put all the facts together. Maeve didn’t want to believe that Norman had another woman—a Las Vegas woman at that. But then she did believe it—and she wanted revenge. With her as the only beneficiary of Norman’s will, it made her a dangerous adversary. Norman must have figured she would come after him, and so he hid outside the cabin last night. It turns out he was right.”

  Everyone was transfixed.

  “Maeve tried to kill Norman, but she failed.”

  I was already turning my gaze toward Maeve to see what her reaction would be to my excellent sleuthing when a sudden movement made me gasp.

  Maeve had bounded to her feet, and in one swift movement pulled a handgun out of the front pocket of the apron she always wore. How long had it been there, I wondered? Since we arrived? Or was it a recent addition to her uniform?

  Maeve aimed the gun at Stone. They were both silent. She waved it, indicating him to move.

  Stone didn’t panic and remained perfectly calm. He slowly raised his arms and stepped to the side in the direction Maeve was pointing.

  Everyone else turned to see what I was looking at.

  Maeve and Stone circled around each other until Maeve’s back was against the door. She waved the gun at him again to get him to start walking backward. Stone nodded and did so.

  Maeve reached behind her and opened the door, pushing it so it swung open backward. She stepped outside the room, gun still trained on us. Using one hand, she reached to her side and dragged something toward her. It was another one of the many chairs that filled the house.

  In one swift move, she took another step back out of the room and slammed the door shut. From the hall, we heard Maeve drag the chair into position.

  Stone bounded to the door in an instant. He tried the handle. It would not go down. Maeve had blocked it using the chair. There was a loud crack, a splinter of wood flew out of the door and straight into Stone’s head. The bullet whistled overhead into the ceiling, where it smashed one of the non-functioning light bulbs, raining glass on Jini and Marcus.

  “Stone!” I yelled.

  He stepped neatly to the side of the door. It was just in time. Two more bul
lets sailed through the wood, spraying more wooden splinters and putting holes in the ceiling.

  “Stay back!” Maeve yelled from the other side.

  “Are you okay?” He withdrew his hand from his forehead. It was covered in blood.

  “Just a splinter.” Stone walked over to the trolley Maeve had left with the coffees. He grabbed a couple of napkins from it and held them against the wound.

  “She’s gone,” Ian yelled from next to the door. He was standing by the door frame, back up against the wall.

  “Are you sure?” I called.

  “Just heard the front door slam.” Ian burst into action and immediately began slamming the door handle up and down and shoulder barging the door to try and force the chair on the other side out of the way.

  Stone ran over. “Hold the handle down and get out of the way.”

  Ian pushed the handle down with one hand, arm outstretched, while the rest of him crouched down by the wall.

  Stone took a couple of steps back and then flung himself at the door. It rattled, and the chair on the other side scraped against the floor. Again, Stone hammered the door with his shoulder and considerable bulk.

  “Third time’s the charm.”

  It was. The door flung open, and on the other side, the chair went flying across the floor of the hall.

  “Come on. She’s getting away.”

  “Feel free to help!” Ian yelled over his shoulder at everyone left in the drawing room.

  We went to the front door and flung it open. I half-expected to see Maeve, in the distance, running down the road.

  “See her?” I asked.

  “Let’s try round the side,” Ian said. “Beryl’s car is there.”

  Of course. That made sense. Maeve wouldn’t run. She’d drive. Even if the road wasn’t clear, it would at least get her away from us. Though what she would do after that was a mystery—live off the land in the wilderness? She didn’t seem like the type.

  Stone, Ian, and I ran down the front steps onto the gravel driveway. Around the side of the house, under a covered carport, sat Beryl’s old Buick. How she got that thing up and down the roads here I couldn’t guess. It wasn’t exactly practical for living here.