Blackjack Magic Murder

by Claire Kane

  “Well, my friend,” Cathy leaned down to be eye-level, “it means I have much more clout. The new manager and I are this close.” She crossed her fingers.

  “Okay, are you offering me a job?” Lacey’s raised her nicely-plucked eyebrows.

  Tilting her head, Cathy said, “I can’t, but I can probably convince Sally, the new manager, to.” She gave a little squeal, then quickly added, “There’s the perfect opportunity right now for you to get a new foothold with the station. Sally can’t think of anyone who’d fit the task, but I think you’d be perfect. Judging by the way you solved the case of those murdered models, I’m sure she’d love to take you on. Plus, she owes me a favor for something I won’t mention.”

  “Really?” Lacey said intrigued. “What is it?”

  “I said I wouldn’t mention it.”

  “Not the favor. The job.”

  A horn honked. Lacey glanced in her rearview mirror to see a car behind her, trying unsuccessfully to edge past. The woman at the wheel looked like a tea kettle about to shoot her lid off in irritation. Lacey obliged by pulling back into her space and Cathy followed.

  Pressing her bright red fingertips together, Cathy said, “Okay. The job. You’d be flying to Vegas, on an all-expenses-paid trip to investigate the magicians Zigmund and Ross!”

  Lacey paused, then smiled. “When do I leave?”

  TWO

  “We’re going to Vegas?”

  Lacey smiled at the old woman seated in a wheelchair before her and nodded. “That’s right, Nainai. Can you believe it? This could be my chance to convince my former employer to hire me back.”

  “You lost your job?”

  “Yes, Nainai,” Lacey said, nearly huffing. This was something that she and her grandmother had discussed a few times before, but Lacey quickly snapped on her patient, loving face. “It’s a long story, but my old boss wasn’t someone you’d want me to work for. Trust me.”

  “No need to explain,” Nainai said, pointing. “I trust you. Integrity has always been your greatest virtue. But this trip might mean I need another lucky cat.” She glanced at the ceramic cat statue with its upraised paw. Chinese folklore said such cats would bring fortune and wealth into their little abode.

  “One is good enough for now,” Lacey said, knowing how superstitious her grandmother could be. She smiled at the thought of escaping a late winter in Seattle to fly to one of the most famous places on Earth. A place where it would be warm.

  “I’m going to need some new shoes,” Nainai said, “and a new dress. I’ve got to have something to show those dancing girls how it’s done.”

  Lacey laughed and hugged her mother’s mother. “I’ll make sure of it, Grandmother.” Despite her meager income, she felt okay not counting the cost.

  “Don’t call me that, Lacey. Every time you do, you make me think you’re in trouble.”

  “We’ll get you a dress and some shoes, Nainai. We’ve still got a couple days before we fly. I’m sure we can find you something by then.” Her grandmother smiled and nodded, then closed her eyes to rest; she was doing more and more of that lately, it seemed.

  Lacey sat on the black leather couch and picked up a folder off a cushion. She opened it and flipped through what Cathy had prepared for her trip. They were news reports and photos about the mysterious death of Zigmund and Ross’s assistant Chanel Lockhart. She was found in her apartment, still in her blue sequined leotard, a bottle of empty sleeping pills at her bedside. The autopsy proved she had O.D.’d, but Lockhart’s best friend and roommate, Ginger Rose, made a most unusual statement: “Black magic is to blame!”

  Once, Lacey would have rolled her eyes at that. Even having been through what she had with the supernatural, she was still leery of quacks and superstitious hacks. Yet, she had seen things that had made her blood run cold and led her to believe that even if many people were only pretending to work in “dark arts,” that not all of them were fakes.

  Affixed to the article was a green sticky note with Cathy’s loopy handwriting: Ginger’s Ph. # 702-555-1535. CALL HER. Lacey programmed the number into her iPhone’s contacts. Grateful for the contact, Lacey knew there was someone else she’d also need to call.

  I’m going to need you for this one, too, Victor, she thought. I know you said you’re on another short assignment for Heaven, but once you get done, at least try to meet me at the airport, okay? You know how well I deal with demons.

  Victor didn’t answer immediately or directly, but Lacey felt a warm sense of acknowledgement. Whatever it was she was heading into by going to Vegas, at least she wouldn’t be alone.

  *

  Seated alone inside a temple that looked like something straight out of ancient Greece, Victor watched as his spirit guide and former pet cat, Rao, floated back and forth in front of an old-fashioned rolling chalkboard. The small bright room smelled of Frankincense, and a chandelier of more than a thousand pieces of cut-beaded glass hung above him, shining like a sun.

  Outside, the day was glorious and beautiful, as Heavenly days always were, but there was an unusual edge of wariness in Rao’s movements. Even the fake spectacles she’d perched on her nose did little to lighten her apparent mood, despite the comic effect of making her eyes look enormous.

  “Since you’re going to Sin City,” the black-and-gold tabby said gravely, “I have some prep work for you to do ASAP,”

  Victor leaned back in his desk with his hands behind his head. “Okay, shoot. I’m listening.”

  With a whip of Rao’s paw, several books suddenly appeared and slammed down on Victor’s desk with a thud. “Whoa, what’s all this?” Victor asked, glaring.

  “Just some textbooks written by moi. Have a look.”

  Victor looked at the top one. “Being Obedient to Your Cat Spirit Guide by Professor Rao Tibbits.” His brow furrowed over it, before a smile sprang across his face. “Hey,” Victor said with excitement, “you kept your last name I gave you in mortality.”

  The cat waved the comment away. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited. You still can’t call me Ms. Tibbits. For today, it’s simply Professor. Got it?”

  “Got it, Professor,” Victor conceded, still smiling. One at a time, he read the rest of the titles. The Art of Meditation, Fighting Black Magic For Dummies, and lastly—The Guardian Angel’s Edition of Touring Las Vegas Without Totally Screwing Things Up. Victor had to hold back a laugh. “I must say, Professor, these are some interesting choices.”

  “Don’t question my methods. I got tenure off that last one. You wouldn’t believe how many angels have gone on assignment to Las Vegas only to make whopping big mistakes.”

  “That won’t be me.” Victor crossed his arms confidently.

  “That, dear pupil, is what you think now. Pride is an easy sin to fall into because it often sneaks in under the best of intentions. Read my books. Be obedient. Then things are less likely to go afoul. Now, are you ready to practice a little meditation?”

  Victor opened his mouth, but was too slow.

  “Sit back, straighten your spine, and relax.” Rao teleported beside him and snapped a yardstick across his hands.

  “What the...? What was that for?”

  “A trick I learned from the nuns. Now do as I say.”

  *

  “Is this what an airplane is like, dear?” Nainai asked as Lacey carefully levered her out of her wheelchair at the end of the jetway, and through the main cabin door.

  “It’s just like the other ones you’ve flown on, Nainai. In fact, this isn’t even the largest or nicest you’ve used. Do you remember when we flew you here from Tokyo?” A flight attendant stepped forward, offering to help Lacey maneuver her grandmother into the first class seats KZTB had popped for. Lacey had insisted on them as a condition of taking the job, since she wasn’t about to leave Nainai home alone, and squeezing the old woman into a coach-class seat would have been a nightmare. Besides, it wasn’t every day she got to fly first class.

  “When have I ever been on an airplane?�
�� Nainai said. “I thought I could trust you to be honest. You know your mother raised you to be that way, Lacey.”

  Lacey sighed, and, with the flight attendant, eased Nainai down into the cushioned seat. “Yes, Nainai. She did. And I just told you, you flew here from Tokyo.”

  “So when are you going to be honest with that hot, hunky man of yours? Why, if I were even forty-years younger, I’d chase him myself. Let them call me a cougar.”

  Shock flashed in the flight attendant’s eyes for a moment, then a controlled smile flitted across her face. Lacey felt her face flush at her grandma’s usual forwardness, but played it off with a sincere giggle. Victor was, in fact, doing a mid-air backfloat halfway down the cabin. He caught Lacey’s eye, and blew a kiss. She blushed, grateful he’d be along for this trip. Cathy hadn’t given her all that many details, but knowing her luck, things might go south. If the last few months had proven anything, it was that it was supremely helpful to have an ex-boyfriend around who could walk through walls and read minds. “We’re fine, Nainai. Now here, let me help you with your seatbelt.”

  Not quite three hours later, Lacey spotted Las Vegas through her window. The city was a neon crown resting on the dark, velvet blanket of the Nevada desert, its casinos and a single, massive tower not unlike Seattle’s Space Needle rising into the night. A thrill went through her; she’d seen Vegas plenty of times on TV and in the movies, but she’d never actually had the chance to go.

  She pictured herself walking the internationally-renowned Las Vegas Strip, dining on exotic food and drink, and luxuriating in the world-class amenities the town’s resorts had to offer. She could practically smell the steamy, lavender water of a spa after a lucky streak on the casino floor. She pictured herself sitting with high rollers and movie stars. “Why, yes, Mister Pitt,” she imagined herself saying, “I’m here alone. No, I don’t have any plans for the evening. The divorce with Angelina is final, yes?”

  Nainai would shop to her heart’s content in the palatial expanse of the Forum Shops, or the Fashion Show Mall, using Lacey’s luck at the tables to fund the whole affair. Then they’d both eat themselves sick at buffets fit for kings, and wind down by catching a good show or three. Most importantly, she’d dig in and find out exactly what KZTB was looking for, reminding them of just what a good thing they’d let go by not bringing her back right away. She’d smile and accept their apology, and consider part time work with them, as she built her business into something Nainai could point to and say, “That’s my granddaughter’s firm.”

  Yes, Vegas was bound to be more than a little exciting. How could it not be?

  She felt a presence nearby, and flicked her eyes to the side to find Victor drifting beside her, brow deeply furrowed in a scowl. “So this is Vegas, huh?” His voice was wary. “You really sure you want to come here, Lace?”

  “Yes, why not?”

  Victor moved his shoulders like he had an icky feeling, and his face twisted. But what Lacey mostly noticed was how her guardian angel sure had a nice build under his light blue T-shirt. God didn’t need to upgrade that to perfection. Too bad he wasn’t compatible… or alive… enough. “They don’t call it ‘Sin City’ for nothing,” he said with disgust.

  You’re already seeing things that I can’t, aren’t you? Speaking to Victor mentally, Lacey turned her dark-brown eyes toward her window, and peered critically out at the city. Victor didn’t answer.

  What Lacey didn’t know was there was plenty to see aboard the plane. One demon clung to a balding man’s shoulders, hunching over him as if starving. Victor sensed it was his gambling addiction. The man literally had slot machines dancing the Conga through his mind.

  Demons of addiction paid no attention to Victor. They rode their afflicted like a parasite sucking blood, never wanting to let go. There were quite a few of them aboard, in one form or another. A blond forty-something woman downed yet another alcoholic beverage, her demon stroking her head in drunken pleasure. The demon at the very back of the plane was the most repulsive of all, in Victor’s mind. The creature actually looked like a pimp… if pimps came in black vaporous forms from Hell. Maybe it was the giant clock around his neck, or the purple hat.

  Victor shook his head. Weird. “Just tell me you’ll spend most of your time at the buffets or the Celine Dion concerts. Wait… never mind.”

  What? Lacey asked, blinking.

  “Gluttony…” He lifted an iridescent finger. “And I just don’t care for Celine Dion’s music.”

  Lacey tilted her head and blinked more. I think I’ll look into her prices, she teased.

  “Nah, you don’t have the money for that,” he said matter-of-factly. Lacey gave him another disapproving stare, so he added, “I mean, you have free tickets to those lion-taming, Liberace-dressing magicians, anyway. And that’s actually something I wouldn’t mind seeing.”

  Glad to know this trip is all about you, Lacey smirked. “Tigers,” she said aloud. Nainai gave her a sly, sidelong glance and a wink. Her grandmother was surprisingly comfortable with the fact that Lacey was still in contact with her dead ex-boyfriend.

  “Excuse me?” Victor asked.

  “Tigers,” she repeated. “They’re not lions. And only one of them is white. It’s a new act trying to break in on old territory. I guess the guys figured that using one white and one regular tiger would somehow be ‘new and different.’”

  “Whatever,” Victor replied, scanning the cabin with a scowl. “The one cat I deal with is enough.” He glanced at the ceiling, thinking of his spirit guide. “And yes, Rao, I know you heard that. No snark.”

  Lacey laughed, but Victor sighed. “I’m going to be on edge this entire trip, but I think you’ll need me here more than you ever needed me in Seattle.”

  Lacey frowned, only partially serious. “If I haven’t yet proven that I can take care of myself, then I don’t think I ever will. Either way, I’m still a big girl, and I’m smart enough to stay out of too much trouble.”

  Victor gave her a suffering look.

  “Okay, so I’m also smart enough to recognize the value of a little supernatural assistance. If you weren’t so sweet, honest, and hot, Victor,” Lacey said matter-of-factly, “I would’ve told you to just stay in Heaven. But I’ll let you follow me around doing my bidding.”

  Victor rolled his eyes, but laughed all the same. “Well, just know that I’ll be the best watchdog you’ve ever had. And be glad you can’t see what I can see.” He shuddered slightly, but none of the dark spirits on the flight seemed to care. “Anyway, we’ll be landing soon. I’ll be glad when we’re headed back. Even if it weren’t for the dark ones on this flight, look how dead this place is.”

  Lacey looked out the window again and sighed. “Victor,” she said, her eyes scanning the glittering lights amidst the night sky, “maybe you just forgot what living is like. Do what you want, but Nainai and I are going to have ourselves a ball.”

  THREE

  Lacey’s “ball” was supposed to start with a limousine, not a taxi that reeked of alcoholic puke. She nearly retched, herself, upon entering and Nainai looked ready to faint. Still, not wasting any time, Lacey helped her grandmother inside and sat. She told the cabby their destination, then quickly dialed Ginger Rose’s phone. She pinched her nose, as the phone rang, to survive the nuclear stench.

  Nainai rolled down her window. “Help! Hellllp!”

  Braving the wait with a forced smile was more than she could muster, even if she’d learned in her line of work that smiling always helped a voice sound happier. Certainly, the acidic odor would permanently scar her teeth.

  Thankfully, Ginger answered on the third ring. “Hello, is this Lacey Link?” She had a thick, Russian accent.

  Lacey gagged a yes in response. Nainai was now leaning out the window, panting.

  “You sound poisoned, comrade.”

  Lacey’s eyes started burning, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying really hard to focus. “N-no, I’m not poisoned.” She choked out, “And this is Gi
nger... Rose?”

  “Yes, your company called and told me to expect to hear from you,” she said. “Your area code is the same as theirs, so I just presumed. You do not sound anything like I expected...”

  Lacey ignored that last comment. “Great! So you know I’m on assignment, looking into the details of your roommate’s”—gag!—“sudden death.”

  A silent beat passed. Fresh air pouring in from Nainai’s window helped ease the assault on her nose. Cursing her stupidity, Lacey rolled hers down as quickly as she could before adding with a more professional tone, “I want to give you my condolences and see if there’s anything I can do to help solve the case.”

  “Yes,” Ginger said languidly. “That would be good. Meet me tonight at The Flamingo. Is right across street from Bellagio. Take route known as ‘The Deuce,’ and be there at nine-thirty sharp. Have spoonful of ginger before you come. Not me, the root. Will help much with your ailment. Do svidaniya.”

  Lacey nodded and hung up wordlessly.

  Upon arriving at her destination, Lacey paid the cabby as fast as she could, and jumped out before the receipt had even printed. She gently hauled her grandmother out while the cabby, who smelled almost as bad as the inside of his car, walked around to the trunk and popped out their luggage. Lacey pulled the bags out, and hurried away the best she could, ignoring the driver’s scowl at her lack of a tip.

  Victor appeared, walking beside her, looking pained. “I wish I could help you with your luggage, babe,” he said.

  Lacey waved it off, grateful to be able to breathe again. Then she looked up at the motel and groaned. Cathy had been strangely hesitant to give her details other than talking up the fact that the motel was “right on the Strip,” which she seemed very excited about. When Lacey had pressed for a name, Cathy had deflected the question by giving her an address, a nervous wink, and a comment about it being “a surprise.”

  “Besides,” Cathy had said when Lacey first accepted the small job, “it’s Vegas! I’d give my right arm to trade you places, if I didn’t have work here to do. You’ll be fine. And it’s on us, so you won’t even have to worry about the expense.” The woman had laughed nervously and the conversation ended shortly thereafter.