The Gamble and the Grave (Veronica Barry Book 4)

by Sophia Martin

  “It would please me very much,” Eric said. Veronica smiled, enjoying his accent as she always did. “I could do it after work tomorrow, if you like.”

  “Tomorrow isn’t good for me,” Veronica said.

  “So, it’s for Wednesday, then.”

  “Wednesday sounds good,” Veronica agreed. “We could meet at Penny Coffee. When are you off work?”

  “The usual is 5 o’clock, but I have nothing very important to do Wednesday. I could be there, perhaps at four thirty?”

  “Perfect,” Veronica said.

  “I will call if something delays me,” Eric promised.

  “Excellent. See you then.”

  Veronica ended the call and took in a deep breath. Khalilah at four, and Eric at four-thirty. It was perfect.

  Harry had begun running with a pack of three other dogs: the German shepherd, the pit, and a golden retriever. Veronica made her way to a bench and sat down, feeling pleased with herself. She watched the dogs for only five minutes or so when her cell went off. Her first thought was that either Khalilah or Eric was canceling on her, but the screen on the phone read “Miguel.”

  “Hello,” she answered.

  “Veronica,” Miguel said, his voice tense.

  “Yes. Is everything okay, Miguel?”

  “I thought I would just back off about this deed thing,” Miguel said. “Just until the cops figure out the whole grave thing. But Veronica, my mother—she’s planning to draw up a new deed and register it.”

  “How can she do that?”

  “My father never registered the deed in my name. The Land Registry’s still got his name on the deed they have on file. With her power of attorney, my mother can add her own name to that deed—I heard her talking to some lawyer about it on the phone. She’s going to see this lawyer about a ‘quick claim deed.’ Veronica, if she gets her name on the house’s deed she’ll be able to sell it.”

  Veronica grimaced. “I’m sorry, Miguel. I just haven’t gotten anything useful about it.”

  “I know, but I was thinking… Ariana spoke to you before, when she was worried about her remains, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, her remains have been disturbed again. Maybe you can contact her if we go to the cemetery. Or maybe back at the jail. Or some other place.”

  “Maybe…”

  “And she—she must watch over us, don’t you think? She must know what’s been going on. Maybe she can tell you where my deed is.”

  Veronica sighed. “I guess we can try.”

  ~~~

  Veronica refused to leave the dog park right away. Harry didn’t get to play with other dogs every day, and she wasn’t going to cut his stay short. But she agreed to meet Miguel at the Holy Cross Cemetery an hour and a half later.

  They walked briskly through the graveyard. Veronica noticed some of the same shimmers as last time, but still none approached. She was grateful—she certainly felt like she had enough ghostly stuff to handle, between Miguel’s situation and the visions having to do with Simeon. Add to that worry over Melanie and her plan to fix Eric up with Khalilah, and her dance card was full.

  The area around Ariana’s grave was marked off with crime scene tape, but there was no one around. Monday, in the late afternoon, was not a busy time for this cemetery—and probably not for many others, for that matter. Veronica ducked under the tape and Miguel followed.

  She knelt at the foot of the hole in the ground. Thinking of the times she’d tried to elicit a vision investigating the murder of Ivy Landis that summer and when she was helping Khalilah last spring, she began breathing deeply and evenly. She closed her eyes and lowered her palms to the cold, dry grass at the edge of the grave.

  ~~~

  At first, there were just colors: white, gold and dark brown. A splash of tan. Then they cleared up, focusing into walls with polished dark brown wood paneling, a white marble floor, and gold trimmed glass doors that led to clothing stores beyond. Veronica thought she was in a mall, but she couldn’t make sense of the ringing noises she heard. She looked ahead: she was walking toward a hotel counter with four separate computers and clerks manning them. The place was nice; everything was clean. In fact, a janitor ran an industrial floor cleaner to the side. The sound of the cleaner joined the bells and high pitched alarms, droning into her ears as the rest of the scene resolved itself. The janitor, who was a young white man with blond hair, met Veronica’s gaze and smiled, giving her a little nod.

  She was walking in heels, Veronica realized. She teetered a bit as her left heel slipped on the newly shined floor, and it was a relief to reach the counter, where she leaned for balance.

  “Hello,” the clerk nearest her said as he moved from his computer to greet her. “Will you be staying with us again?”

  She smiled at him. “Yep. Just got paid.”

  “Excellent news.”

  Veronica pulled the purse that hung from her shoulder to rest on the counter and opened it.

  “Will it be cash, as usual?”

  “You bet,” Veronica said. She recognized the voice that came from her, though she’d never heard it when the woman who spoke was alive. Ariana.

  She pulled a small change purse out of the bag and unzipped it, tugging a large wad of bills from it. Veronica was shocked to see that every bill in the thick wad was a hundred.

  Ariana peeled off five, which hardly made a dent, and handed them to the clerk. “Should cover the first seven nights, right? You should keep the change.”

  The clerk inclined his head. “We always appreciate your paying in advance, Ma’am.”

  Ariana smirked at him and spun away from the counter, but as she tried to walk away her heel slipped again. The janitor abandoned the cleaner and lunged, catching her elbow.

  “Aw, thanks, Wyatt,” Ariana said, grasping the man’s arm to regain her balance. “You’re my hero.”

  “Sure,” he answered, grinning at her. He leaned in and whispered. “Gives me a chance to touch you again. You want to go out later?”

  “I’d love to. You can help me pick a table.” A table? The sounds suddenly made more sense.

  “I get off at one,” Wyatt said.

  “Perfect. Just enough time for a shower and a nap. I feel beat, but this money’s burning a hole in my pocket, you know what I’m saying?”

  “I sure do.”

  She chuckled warmly. “Wyatt Williams. Always a pleasure.” She took more care as she walked toward the elevators, leaving him behind as he watched her go.

  ~~~

  Veronica opened her eyes and raised her hands from the earth.

  “What did you see? You did see something, right?”

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to look at where Miguel stood a few feet off. “I did, but I don’t think it helps us with the deed.”

  Miguel groaned and sat down all at once, as if his legs had given out from under him. Then he raised his eyes and gazed at her. “What did you see?”

  Veronica shrugged. “It was a memory of Ariana’s. So I think you were right. She’s around, and I’m guessing the grave robbery got her attention.”

  “Was it something to do with that?”

  “I don’t know. If it was, I don’t know how it’s connected.” Veronica described what the vision showed her.

  “A big wad of money?”

  “Yeah, and I don’t think it was the first time. The guy behind the counter knew her on sight, and he made it sound like she always paid in advance, with cash.”

  Miguel ran both hands into his long, curling hair. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It might not be bad. I mean, I’m pretty sure she was in a casino,” Veronica said. “The sounds… and then that comment about the guy helping her ‘pick a table.’”

  “You think she won that money?”

  “Maybe. It would explain having a big wad of cash, wouldn’t it? She could have been gambling and cashed in her chips.”

  Miguel nodded. “I like the sound of that better than t
he alternative that came to my mind.”

  “Prostitution?”

  Miguel shot Veronica an alarmed look. “Well, I was thinking stripping, but thanks for that suggestion.”

  She grimaced. “Sorry.” She toyed with the edge of her jacket sleeve. “But you know, Miguel, strippers don’t usually get paid in hundreds, I don’t think.”

  He scowled at the ground.

  “Anyway, the real question is why Ariana sent me that vision. It must have been important to her somehow.”

  “Right,” he agreed after a pause. “But how?”

  “Well, there’s the guy she was going to go out with. Wyatt Williams. I mean, it’s not much, but I bet there aren’t that many people named ‘Wyatt Williams’ out there. And if I’m right about it being a casino…”

  “That just narrows it down to the entire state of Nevada.”

  “Could have been an Indian reservation in California, too.”

  Miguel turned his scowl on Veronica.

  She held up her palms. “Hey, don’t kill the messenger.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “This is like a needle in a haystack. Is it always like this?”

  Veronica gave him a pained smile. “Kind of.”

  “Why not just show you what she really wants you to know: the person who stole her body, and where they’re hiding it?”

  Veronica shrugged. “It doesn’t work like that for them.”

  “Them?”

  “The spirits. I think they send me images and things… that have to do with emotion, a lot of the time. I mean, when I met Ariana’s spirit in the jail, she was very direct. But then, she’d been waiting there a long time to tell someone what she told me. Now, I’m guessing this grave robbery took her off guard. She’s confused. I think a lot of the time they’re confused when they try to communicate with me. They don’t—they don’t understand reality the same way anymore, and they try to show me what’s important, but a lot of things are important to them, for a lot of different reasons.”

  Miguel’s face was glum. “It’s so hard, realizing I didn’t know her at all anymore.”

  Veronica looked down at her hands, then her eyes flicked back up. “You know, come to think of it, it’d be kind of weird for a prostitute to get paid all in hundreds, too.”

  He shook his head. “Look, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better—”

  “No, seriously. All I saw were hundreds. Don’t you think there’d be a mix of bills? Some fifties, some twenties?”

  “I’m really not sure I want to think about it.”

  Veronica wrinkled her brow but didn’t voice any more thoughts on the subject. Which didn’t stop her thinking about it. It did seem strange to her that Ariana had only hundreds. Even if she cashed in chips, it seemed strange. The wad had to have held at least fifty bills. Probably twice that many, although Veronica could hardly wrap her head around carrying ten thousand dollars around in cash. Winning ten thousand dollars was in a league higher than any Veronica had ever played—though she’d never actually been to a casino anyway. But she had driven by them and the bright billboards often advertised ten thousand dollar prizes as the pinnacle of what one could win, if one really hit the jackpot. Wouldn’t Ariana have said something about her big win to Wyatt Williams? She treated the money as a more regular payday. She was excited about it, anxious to go out and enjoy it, but she wasn’t acting like someone who’d just hit a major jackpot.

  Besides, if Veronica ever won a large number of chips at a casino—or a small number of highly valuable chips—she imagined she’d prefer some sort of check or something. It didn’t make sense that a casino would pay such a large amount in cash.

  Chapter 6

  After she and Miguel parted, Veronica drove to Melanie’s house. She let herself in and found her friend lying on her side on the couch, watching TV. It was The Thad Bayer Show.

  “Mellie!” Veronica exclaimed in surprise. Melanie turned to look at Veronica.

  “What?”

  “The Thad Bayer Show? Don’t tell me you’re going all ‘Think Thad’ on me.” Veronica crossed the room and sat on an armchair next to Melanie.

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “No. It’s like watching a car accident. I’ve been feeling queasy since I put the show on.” She grabbed the remote and switched the TV off. “It can’t be good for my blood pressure. It’s like, ‘What disgusting, vile thing will come out of this guy’s mouth next?’ You know?”

  “Don’t give him the ratings bump, Mel.”

  “Oh, I don’t think my little bump is going to make a difference either way with Thad Bayer. That’s why I watched—I wanted to try to understand why this old friend of mine from a job I had a long time ago likes him. I mean, she’s a woman, and a teacher now, and she’s a Thaddie. And she’s not alone—he’s so hugely popular. I looked it up. Did you know 80% of Republicans have a positive view of him? So I thought, okay, maybe I’m wrong and he’s not as bad as I thought.”

  “You’re not a Republican, Mel.”

  “No, but it’s not like I think all Republicans suck. Or even that 80% of Republicans suck. So I just thought I’d give the guy a chance. Maybe all I ever heard was the bad stuff he said…”

  “…and the rest of the time he’s all sunshine and roses?”

  “I don’t know,” Melanie sighed. “Chalk it up to pregnancy insanity. Or better yet, bed rest insanity. I always kind of thought bed rest sounded like it wouldn’t be so bad. You get to lie around and get caught up on your reading and TV watching. Let me tell you. It is bad.” She shifted against the cushions with a grimace. “I never realized lying around all day hurt. Did you know it hurt? I mean, the aches in my back and hips are starting to make me come unglued.”

  “Poor Mellie.”

  “Anyway, I’ve given this guy a chance now, and you know what I realized?”

  “No, do tell.”

  “He’s worse than I imagined! The stuff he says! You haven’t even heard about half of it. And he’s so confident, he’s telling people with every breath that he knows the truth! That the only way they’ll know the truth is if they listen to him.”

  “The truth about what?”

  “Oh, why society is going to hell, and what we should all be doing about it, and why the liberals are all evil lying bastards, and how wrong it is to blame the rich for the problems of the poor and that workers aren’t exploited, they’re just lazy, and women—oh my god, V. The man hates women, unless they’re silent in church and staying at home with a working husband who makes enough that they’ll never need welfare.”

  Veronica smiled. Melanie gestured to the laptop that sat on the coffee table before her.

  “And I googled some of the supposed ‘facts’ he was throwing around, and I think he made up at least two thirds of them. I mean, made them up, like, whole-cloth. And the rest are all based on questionable studies and surveys and stuff that have come out of conservative organizations and the like. So now I think maybe 80% of Republicans do suck. They’re all awful people with bad ideas. And it’s all Thad Bayer’s fault!”

  Veronica’s smile widened. “I’m guessing that 80% isn’t really a reliable number either, though. You know, if Thad can make up facts for his show, I’m sure he can influence the polls in his favor, too.”

  Melanie scowled. “You’re right. He’s an evil mastermind.”

  Veronica chuckled. “So I take it things have been a little slow around here.”

  Melanie sighed and rested her head on her cushion. “So slow.”

  “Is Angie taking good care of you?”

  “Oh, yeah. She’s been a doll. Although if I have to eat another plate of macaroni and cheese—Angie-style…”

  “Not so good?”

  “We’re not talking about gourmet baked macaroni and cheese here, V. This is instant and she doesn’t really pay much attention to the directions, so sometimes it’s runny, other times it’s powdery…”

  Veronica grimaced. “Okay, how about I order us a pizza for dinn
er?”

  “Would you?”

  “Sure. Let me call Daniel. He can come over and join us. Hey, if you want something take-out, instead, I bet he’d pick it up.”

  “That would be amazing. I mean, I’ve only been laid up since Saturday and I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t get some real food here. Oh my god, do you think he’d get us something from Joe’s Crab Shack?”

  “Let me call him and ask.”

  Later, Veronica sat back down in the armchair near Melanie’s couch and asked, “Mellie, have you ever won any money at a casino?”

  “Uh… yeah, a couple of times. But V, you can’t just come and sit down here and not give me the scoop on Joe’s Crab Shack and the likelihood of my eating some delectable crab for dinner!”

  Veronica grinned. “Daniel said he’d pick up a couple ‘Crab Daddy Feasts.’”

  Melanie sighed and sank into her cushions, beaming with pleasure. “Now you’re talking.”

  “So can I ask you about the money you won?”

  “What about it?”

  “I was wondering how likely it is that a casino would pay someone in cash. I mean, I was thinking about it, and especially for larger sums, it seems like they’d cut a check, right? It seems safer.”

  Melanie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe in a perfect world where everyone’s honest,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve heard they’ll cut checks and stuff for larger sums, it’s true, but you have to do a bunch of paperwork. For smaller sums they’d probably just do cash. See, some criminal genius realized they could use casinos for money laundering at some point in the past.”

  “How does that work?”

  “Well, you acquire some cash amount in an illegal way, right? You can’t just deposit it, especially if you’re doing this on a regular basis. So you go to a casino and use it to buy a bunch of chips. Then you gamble a little, not enough to really make a dent in your ill-gotten gains. You turn in your chips, and the casino writes you a nice, completely legal check, which as far as your bank knows, and anyone else who’s paying attention, is money you won, fair and square.”

  Veronica raised her eyebrows and whistled. “I never thought of that.”