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

by A. R. Winters

  “Howdy!” he called out of the window, raising a hand.

  Trailing behind him were more vehicles. A couple of cop cars. An ambulance. And who knew what else.

  “Now,” Nanna said. “Who would like a cupcake?”

  I stared at her.

  “I brought some supplies, in case you all were suffering after being cut off so long.” Nanna looked at our group. “Anyone?”

  “Yes!” I said, jumping to the front of the line that was about to form.

  In a matter of moments, Nanna was distributing the cupcakes to our disheveled group like an aid worker after a natural disaster.

  And boy, did we deserve them.

  * * *

  Stone and I walked back, cautiously, toward the house.

  “Are you sure it’s not going to explode again,” I asked him, cautiously, as we got closer.

  “Anything that was in that basement was detonated. We should be okay.”

  “Should be?”

  “Should be.”

  The old gothic house was now a smoking pile of rubble. It was smaller than I expected. Much of it must have tumbled into the underground basement. We could see clear across the site, to the snow-covered garden behind, the woods that led to the cabin, and in the other direction, the path that led to the cliff we thought Norman had tumbled down.

  “How is that still standing?” I asked, pointing at the woodshed.

  “Explosions are funny things.”

  “Funny?” I stared at the debris. It didn’t see much to laugh about.

  “They can be directed. You can make a building fall straight down if you place the charges right. In this case, the explosives were in the basement and they sent the house straight up and then straight down again. Leaving the woodshed.”

  “And, more importantly, my car.”

  To my delight and relief, my trusty Honda was still sitting on the other side of the woodshed, where I had parked it on that first day after unloading. It looked like she had a layer of dust on top of the snow she’d already been covered with, but otherwise, she seemed fine.

  We reached the woodshed and looked inside. The wooden roof had fallen and covered Beryl’s sheet-shrouded body. We could see the white bedsheet through gaps in the wood.

  “Should I start pulling the wood off?” Stone asked.

  “No. We’ll leave it to the professionals.” I walked over to my car. “Come on. Help me clear the snow off and I’ll give you a ride.”

  “A ride?”

  “You don’t want to hike back out again, do you?”

  Stone looked as if he was considering it for a moment. Then he smiled.

  “I guess I’ll take a ride.”

  I grinned back at him.

  For once, I was basically rescuing him. Rescuing him from an annoying walk rather than imminent death, but still, baby steps.

  “There’s an ice scraper in the glove box. Have at it.”

  Five minutes later, I was loading up Ian, Amber, and Angel into the car. Uncle Joe and some of the others piled in with Nanna in the pickup truck she’d borrowed. The rest waited on more rides. Neither Roman nor Marcus’s vehicles had fared as well as mine in the explosion.

  “My app says we should get to Mount Washington in twelve minutes, Tiff.”

  “Your app is going out the window if it doesn’t stop making you say stupid things, Ian.”

  “I’m just saying—oww!”

  Stone and I both smirked. We’d both seen the pothole before we hit it.

  “What was that, Ian?”

  “Nothing.”

  With smoke still trailing into the sky behind us, we bounced and jolted through the newly-cleared narrow pass.

  In an hour, we were in Mount Washington.

  And then forty-five minutes later, we were on another planet.

  At least that’s what Las Vegas felt like after five days in the country.

  But that’s Las Vegas for you.

  But to me, it’s home.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On Sunday afternoon, what had seemed like an impossibility only a short time before became a reality: Uncle Joe’s family reunion.

  Of course the numbers had changed. After the disastrous turn of events, and an extremely necessary last-minute change of venue, I assumed the numbers would be lower.

  But they were not.

  With the original venue now a pile of smoking rubble, I called up a friend to ask for a favor.

  Thankfully, Jack was only too happy to help, and that’s how Uncle Joe’s family reunion took place in The Tremonte Hotel, back in Las Vegas. Jack Welch, an ex of mine, was the owner of the entire Tremonte Casino and Resort, as well as an investor in a number of other businesses in and around the city.

  “We should have held it here in the first place,” Ian grumbled.

  “What?” Joe said to him. “I thought you liked the great outdoors?”

  “Yeah, well, I like to be outside, immersed in it, not cooped up in some old house, you know?”

  Joe and I exchanged a knowing glance.

  “It would have been fun having it in that big old house, Joe,” I said, “if only its occupants hadn’t turned out to be psychopaths. It was a great idea even if it turned out not to be so great in practice. It’ll make for another good story to add to your repertoire.”

  “Yeah, you should write a book,” Ian said to him.

  “I know a ghostwriter based in the city…” I grinned at him.

  “No, thank you.” Did the police give you any more information?” He asked me. “Did they find Maeve?”

  I shook my head. “The scene was obliterated. They can’t even look for remains.”

  “But she could have gotten out?”

  I nodded. “She may have. There was another exit from the cellar leading to the woodshed. If she made it out, she disappeared up into the mountain somewhere.”

  “Maybe Beryl had more cabins out there.”

  I shuddered. “I don’t like to wish ill on anyone. But I hope not.”

  “I’m not keen to hear from her again either,” Joe admitted. “Unless she’s on the other side of a set of bars.”

  “Speaking of which, they’re going to charge Norman as an accessory to murder. He’s still claiming it was Maeve who did everything. But it turned out the cops actually managed to get a partial fingerprint off the knife-handle. The woodshed roof collapsed onto Beryl, but she was still wrapped in the sheet. It was Norman who wielded the knife.”

  Midori nudged me. I hadn’t even seen her approach, but quiet as a cat she’d slid up beside me. “See? I knew moving the dead body was a good idea. And I still can’t believe you wanted to keep it up there with us.”

  “I admit it. Through sheer luck, moving the body turned out to be the right move. Just this once.”

  Midori grinned at me, her green eyes twinkling. I was beginning to learn she was in-between what I originally thought—she wasn’t the shy, demure, polite girl who she had played as Yumi, but she wasn’t quite as catty as the freshly-revealed Midori had seemed—being accused of murder wasn’t exactly great for anyone’s personality. Even Roman was beginning to seem pleasant again in small doses.

  The pair of them had plotted a murder. Even if they hadn’t carried it out, they certainly had a dark side to them. But then again, so do a lot of people, don’t they? Perhaps they just had overactive imaginations.

  “Tiffany?” Nanna was approaching, holding her phone in front of her. I’d left mine in the house, and needed a new one. Despite returning to Las Vegas, I was still basically cut-off until I got a new phone.

  “Who is it?”

  “Ryan.”

  I wouldn’t say that I’d forgotten about him exactly, but with all the excitement of the last few days, my mind had rarely wandered in the direction of the supposed center of my love life.

  Guiltily, I answered, “Hello?”

  “Tiffany, you all right? I couldn’t get hold of you yesterday.”

  Just yesterday, huh?


  “No. My phone’s been having some technical difficulties.”

  “Yeah? Did you drop it?”

  “No, it got blown up in a massive dynamite explosion.”

  “Very funny, Tiff. I’ve, uh, got some news.”

  “Good news?”

  “Good and bad. A little of both.”

  I pressed the phone against my ear as I listened, while watching the room as it slowly filled up. It seemed that with the location change, some of Joe’s guests had taken the liberty of inviting a few guests of their own. There were several dozen people there already, and more filing in.

  “Yeah? Go on.”

  “I’ve been offered a big opportunity. A real big one. I’ll be working in tandem with one of the Federal agencies—can’t say which one, but let’s just say it’s got three letters—and they said I might be able to transfer in, if the op goes well, at a pretty great starting grade.”

  “I thought you liked being a detective for the LVMPD?”

  “I do. It’s great. But this—it’s the big leagues. Washington DC, Tiff. But that’s in the future. For now, I’m going on another operation.”

  He was telling me. Not asking what I thought about it, not asking how it would affect us. Just a Hey, Tiff, I’m going to disappear indefinitely and then transfer across the country—excited?

  “You are, huh? And what’s the good news?”

  There was a pause. “That… that was the good news, Tiff. The bad news is I’m going away again.”

  “How long?”

  “Can’t say.”

  “Can’t say, don’t know, or won’t say?” I wasn’t sure if I cared what the answer was.

  “Just the first two. I’m sorry, Tiff. Real sorry. And I’m sorry I couldn’t see you before I had to go.”

  “I get it. Big leagues, now, right?”

  “Right. So, uh, how’s that big old house?”

  “I’m not at the house. I told you—it blew up in a big dynamite explosion.”

  “I thought you were joking! Are you all right? Should I try and delay a day?”

  “No, Ryan. I’m fine. A day won’t make a difference. Look, I’ve got to go. Good luck.”

  “Thanks. I—”

  I pressed the disconnect button before he could finish. Hearing any more wouldn’t help things. Nanna gave me a questioning look. I handed the phone back over to her. “Ryan’s going away again.”

  Nanna slowly nodded while watching my face. I knew she was trying to figure out how upset I was. “You’re not surprised, are you?”

  “No.” And I realized I wasn’t. Ryan had been destined to leave me again. I hadn’t been conscious of it, but at some level, I knew it was coming.

  “Remember what I said, Tiffany.”

  Nanna had said a great deal of things to me over the years, but she didn’t need to specify. We both knew what she meant. She was reminding me what she’d told me before: if Ryan leaves, it’s over. Of course things are never that simple, but I felt like Nanna might be right. Again.

  “Good evening, Tiffany,” said a voice in my ear.

  “Jack!” I said, delighted. It was him we had to think for the magnificent facilities. “Thank you so much, again, for everything. I didn’t think Uncle Joe’s party was ever going to happen—not after the first venue exploded.”

  “You can always count on me, Tiffany. Even if every banquet hall had been booked, I would have found somewhere else in the city for you. Don’t forget that, Tiff. I’m here for you, always.”

  I rubbed the corner of my eye. A dust mote must have gotten in it. Clearly Jack’s luxury hotel had a shoddy air filtration system. “Thank you, Jack. It means more than you could imagine to have friends like you looking out for me.”

  “Any time.” Jack surveyed the room. “Your uncle draws quite a crowd.”

  “He sure does. But after the life he’s led, it’s not surprising. You should hear some of his tales sometime.”

  “I’d like that. Maybe I’ll get him to myself for a couple of minutes.”

  I didn’t like his odds. There were dozens of people who wanted to speak to Uncle Joe.

  “Enjoy the party, Tiffany.”

  Jack left me, but I wasn’t alone for long.

  “Tiffany.”

  The deep, familiar voice had me smiling and turning to face Stone before I’d even thought about it. “Hey, Action Man.”

  He chuckled. “If I’m Action man, then you’re Action Woman. That was your rodeo. I just came along for the last bit of the ride.”

  “And you were a very welcome addition. A nice bit of extra pizazz. If it hadn’t been for you hustling us all, I’m not sure we would have got away in time.”

  Stone didn’t react to that comment. He wasn’t the sort who liked to be smothered with compliments. Or thanks.

  Instead, he changed the topic. “Are you related to all of these people?” he said as he scanned the room. Since I’d last checked, at least another couple of dozen people had arrived.

  “I have no idea how many of them I’m related to. I guess there’s a connection to all of them in some way. Unless we’ve got gatecrashers.”

  “Like me?” Stone asked.

  Nanna took his arm. “You’re never a gate crasher, Stone. You’re welcome everywhere you go.”

  “You clearly don’t know the places I go.”

  Nanna giggled. But I knew Stone wasn’t joking.

  There was a crackling as someone switched on a microphone. “Hello? Testing, one, two, three.”

  At the front of the room was a small stage, and Uncle Joe was standing in the center of it, staring at the microphone in his hand.

  “We can hear you!” Nanna shouted back at him.

  He gave her a thumbs up.

  “Family and friends,” Uncle Joe began, “And friends of family, and family of friends.” He paused, letting everyone look at his twinkling eyes for a moment. “And whoever else has snuck in here.” The audience laughed, some of them guiltily. “I want to thank you all for coming to my little get together.” Another laugh. Little, this get-together was not.

  Joe had all eyes on him, and he reveled in it. He was the anchor around which the whole afternoon and evening flowed, the magnet that drew us all first to the old house and now to the Tremonte Hotel’s second-largest banquet hall.

  Ian bobbed up beside me. Nanna was in front. Stone was on my other side. A drink had appeared, thrust into my hand for the upcoming toasts.

  It was good to be home in Las Vegas, with my family and my friends.

  Stone looked down at me. The corners of his lips twitched in the flicker of a smile. But his eyes showed there was more.

  Ryan may be leaving again, I thought. But with my family and friends, I was going to be just fine.

  Stone put an arm over my shoulder.

  Yep.

  Just fine.

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  Sneak Peak: Killer Cruise

  Chapter One

  It was with pride and barely concealed excitement that I walked down one of
the below-deck hallways of the Swan of the Seas after collecting the tools of my new trade: a smartphone and a notebook computer.

  Tucked under my arm were the two ugly blue blouses I’d been issued that made up the entirety of my uniform. Because of my unique role, which would see me scurrying back and forth across the entire ship, I was exempt from wearing dress pants or a skirt and was permitted to wear jeans.

  Having collected everything I needed for my new job, I was on my way to very my own cabin—well, mine and my mystery roommate’s.

  After an abortive attempt at being a journalist at a small town newspaper back home, I’d left Nebraska to sail the seven seas and, to quote another cliché, find myself. And I was going it alone. It was the bravest thing I’d done in my life, though sometimes I wondered if it was also the stupidest.

  I felt a tinge of pride when I got to my cabin, seeing the small plastic nameplate stuck to the wall outside filled with two printed names: A. James, who was me, and S. Williams, who was presumably my new roommate.

  “Gosh, I hope she’s nice,” I said to myself under my breath. I was feeling optimistic though; she had the same last name and first initial as my best friend. She had to be nice, right? The only worry I had was that I hadn’t yet met her; somehow, we’d missed each other during training.

  My hand hesitated. Should I knock on the door of my own room? Or should I just use the keycard and let myself in right away? I clutched the keycard in my hand as another thought occurred to me.

  What if S. Williams was a man?

  What if he was a handsome man? Wouldn’t that be an interesting way to start my new life? But I was pretty sure the cruise liner company had policies against cohabitation with members of the opposite sex. A rather outdated policy, in my opinion.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Come in! It’s open!”

  I cocked my head. That voice. It sounded like it came from a thousand miles away.