Ian and I exchanged a glance, but neither of us said anything.
After we assured Andrew that we'd be doing our best to find out what happened to Charlene, and said goodbye to him, Ian turned to me.
“Is that what I sound like whenever I fall for someone?”
I shrugged. “Afraid so. Actually, you're worse.”
Ian made a face. “I can't help it. Besides, love makes the world go round.”
“And money can't buy happiness, and things happen for a reason.”
Ian looked at me and creased his eyebrows together. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No,” I said with a sigh. “I just don't know what to say. I don't believe in fate—not really. But this whole thing between Andrew and Charlene, maybe he has a point. Maybe things happen for a reason, and maybe we owe it to him, and to Charlene, to investigate what happened.”
Ian nodded. “I wonder who the primary on this case is.”
I made a face. “With my luck, it’ll be Ryan,” I said, referring to my boyfriend, Detective Ryan Dmitriou.
Ryan had been the primary on the last case we'd investigated, and it had been a bit awkward butting heads with him as we interviewed the same suspects over and over again. Ryan didn't approve of private investigators “meddling” in open cases, and I didn't approve of being told not to do my job. Ryan was my first serious boyfriend in a long time, and I didn't want to mess things up.
“Maybe it’ll be Elwood,” Ian said hopefully.
Detective Elwood was a short, chubby man whom we'd run into on many of our previous investigations—while I'd hated running into him in the past, at this stage, he seemed like a preferable alternative to Ryan.
“We'll have to go to the station and find out what we can about this case at some point,” I said. “But in the meantime I should look up everyone on my private investigator's database.”
“I'll grab my laptop, and try to find out if there’s anything on social media. Oh, and I got this cool new thing,” Ian said, pulling what looked like a button from his pocket. “We can use this when we investigate this case.”
He handed the button-looking thing over to me, and I turned it around in my hand. It was about half an inch in diameter, and while one side looked like a button, there was something thick and black attached to the other side. “What is it?”
“It's a high-tech recording device,” Ian said proudly. “It's tiny, but it's got high-res video and audio capacity.”
I looked at the thing in wonder. “It's basically a video camera?”
Ian nodded. “It records everything, and then it transmits all of that to the cloud using the Wi-Fi on my phone. I could record hours and hours of video using this. I'm sure it'll be useful for us.”
I couldn't stop gaping. “This must have cost a fortune!”
Ian shrugged modestly. “I've been doing some careful budgeting like my parents keep telling me to. And because I haven't met any interesting, beautiful women these last few weeks, I was able to save up some money and buy it. Plus, I told my lawyer I was going to do a course on coding, and I needed money for that, so he let me have a bit more from my trust fund.”
I glanced at Ian inquisitively. “But won’t he ask you if you learned any coding at all?”
Ian laughed. “The lawyer looks like he's eighty. He’s got no idea about coding. I've already taught myself a couple of coding languages for free, using those online coding schools. It’s not worth paying to learn coding basics anymore. This nifty camera is much more useful.”
Reality settled heavily on my chest. “You know we can't use surreptitious recordings if things go to court.”
Ian’s eyes crinkled and he nonchalantly tossed his head off to one side. “That's okay. I'm sure this device’ll come in handy at some time or the other. Like, let’s say we went to talk to the roommate, and she said something, and then we go to talk to the brother. We could play him a recording if we need to.”
I wasn't entirely convinced, but I didn't want Ian to regret his purchase. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
Ian got his laptop, and the next two hours passed in silence. Ian looked up everyone online, Snowflake dozed on top of the fridge, and I traipsed through the labyrinth of my private investigator's database.
At the end of the two hours, we both stopped working, and filled each other in on what we'd found out.
“Charlene Nelson lived just a few miles north of us,” I told Ian. “Her two roommates are Victoria Harris, and Mary Miller. Her brother, Brad Nelson, owns a laundromat in Charleston Heights. His partner is Chris Ellington, and they’re business partners—for some reason, I thought they were romantic partners.”
“I've seen a lot of pictures of Brad with Chris on social media,” Ian said. “I thought for sure they were together. But who knows, maybe they're just very good friends who went into business together? Or maybe they’re both business partners and romantic partners.”
I pressed my lips together thoughtfully. “We'll find out soon enough. The laundromat they own is called Sunset Laundry and the owners are listed as Brad Nelson, Chris Ellington, and the Brad and Chris Corporation. I looked up Charlene's roommates. One of them works in retail, and the other works as a waitress. They haven't been in any legal trouble before, and neither has Charlene.”
“I looked up Charlene on social media. I saw lots of photos of her at girls’ nights out, but nothing of her with men. I'm assuming she was single, and she liked to have the odd night out.”
“What about Brad and Chris?”
Ian shrugged “There are a couple of photos of them at a dinner, and they checked into lunch together. Nothing conclusive either way about whether they were business or romantic partners.”
“Charlene's been working at the Treasury for the last two years. When she first came to Vegas, she was working as a waitress, but she must’ve gotten her documents in order quickly. She got a job in a Fremont Street casino, before getting into the Treasury. There wasn't anything else particularly interesting about her.”
“Do you want me to look up the roommates on social media?”
“No, I'm not sure we'll find anything useful. Most people are careful about their privacy these days, and they try not to share anything incriminating. We'll go have a chat with them, and then if they seem suspect, we can do some more research on them.”
“I guess we’re heading off to the police station now?”
I sighed. “We may as well. And who knows, maybe you're right—maybe this is Elwood's case.”
“At least we’ll learn more about how she was killed,” Ian said, “It’s the first step toward finding out who the killer is. Who would want to kill a cocktail waitress?”
Chapter 4
Ian and I were just about to put away our computers and get ready to head over to the precinct when there was a loud, urgent knock on my door.
We exchanged a glance, wordlessly wondering who it might be this time.
“Maybe it's Nanna,” Ian suggested.
But something in the urgency of that knock had me worried, and I rushed over to the door and flung it open.
“Stone!”
My heart soared, and my eyes widened.
This was the first time I'd seen Stone in broad daylight; since those two dark-suited men had shown up, I'd only ever run into Stone under cover of the night. And those times, he'd been dressed in all black, all the better to blend into the background.
Before Stone had gone undercover, his usual uniform had been dark jeans, dress shoes, and a crisp white shirt. Today, he was wearing Bermuda shorts, a loud-print Hawaiian shirt, and a baseball cap. His dark eyes glimmered from under the cap, and I felt myself warmed by the strength of his presence. It was almost like things had gone back to normal—other than that horrible shirt, which I would never have imagined him wearing.
I stepped aside, and Stone walked in.
“Thanks for the text,” Stone said. “I’m looking forward to seeing him.”
“You mean Tariq?�
� Ian said. He was grinning, his face lit up with delight at seeing Stone again. “I’ll go get him! But I haven’t seen you in ages—it's good to know you’ve been safe, man.”
Stone and Ian did a strange handshake-fist-pump thing, and then Stone turned to look at me. I was hovering near the closed door, wondering what to do.
Before I could say anything, there was another knock on the door, this one quieter and less rushed.
I opened it to let Tariq inside.
Stone and Tariq stared at each other for a few long seconds.
Finally, Tariq smiled, and they embraced in a manly hug. When they pulled apart and looked at each other, the similarities between the two men were glaringly obvious—they were both tall, both handsome in their own ways, and both men of few words.
Stone said, “Everything good?”
Tariq nodded somberly. “Here in one piece. You?”
Stone grimaced. “Surviving. You got all the details from Johnson?”
“Yes. We are on track?”
“Everything’s going smoothly. I'll let you know once all the arrangements are made for the trip to DC.”
“I will go back to Ian's apartment now,” Tariq said. “I have to get used to laying low again.”
And with that, he disappeared.
Stone stared after the man, even after the door to my apartment was closed shut.
I was suddenly nervous.
This was it! This was Stone's only way to clear his name, and I didn't want anything to go wrong.
I wanted him to be safe, I wanted him to be able to come out of hiding, and I wanted everything to go back to normal. But something about Stone’s pensiveness, the lack of his usual lightheartedness, made me unsure.
“I'm glad you and Tariq met each other again,” I said uncertainly, hoping that Stone would volunteer some information about their plans.
But Stone only looked at me, and a corner of his mouth twitched upwards, as though he knew I was fishing for information.
“You need to be careful,” Stone said. “I know for a fact that Eli has wind of Tariq's presence. He doesn't know the man's staying with Ian though, and with any luck he'll never find out.”
Stone's words sent a shiver down my spine. I'd met Eli once, and given what I’d learned of his past, I knew that the man was ruthless, and dangerous. “I'll be careful.”
“You're not working on any cases now, are you?”
Ian and I exchanged a glance. Even Ian could sense the danger that we were in, and for once, Ian didn't seem all that excited about our upcoming investigation.
I took a deep breath, and looked into Stone's dark, jet black eyes. “We've just accepted a murder investigation. A cocktail waitress, Charlene Nelson, was killed a few days back.”
Stone nodded, and watched me steadily. I could see the concern in his eyes, and I fully expected him to tell me to drop the case.
“I read about it in the papers,” Stone said. “Bad business.”
I shifted from one foot to another. “I'm sure it'll be fine.”
This time, Stone’s eyes danced with amusement. “When has a murder investigation ever not turned dangerous for you?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “It's part of the job, I guess.”
“And I'll be right here to help her,” Ian chimed in enthusiastically. “We're going to stick together.”
Stone turned to look at Ian, and nodded seriously. “You do that.” And then he turned back to me. “You need to wrap up this case quickly. I'll help you as much as I can.”
Gratitude surged through my veins, and I smiled at him.
All over again, I remembered why Stone and I had become such good friends, and why I’d found myself falling for him. You couldn't help but like a man who supported you as much as he could. Stone didn't like me getting into dangerous situations, but his response to that was to force me to take Krav Maga classes and learn how to shoot a gun. He never discouraged me from accepting clients, or told me that I'd be better off pursuing a career at the casino.
“You don't have to,” I said. “You're already in trouble. I want you to stay safe and get this whole thing sorted out.”
Stone's eyes locked on to mine. “I'm always safe,” he said softly. “I don't want you worrying about me.”
He took a few steps forward, and gave me a quick hug. For a few seconds, I leaned against Stone’s broad chest, and savored the warmth of his strong arms wrapped around me. I couldn't help but worry about him, but his presence always made me feel so safe and protected.
Before I knew it, Stone had stepped back, and he ran one finger lightly along my jaw. Sparks danced wherever his skin touched mine.
“I'll keep an eye on you,” he said seriously. “Everything will be fine.”
He walked out the door, and out of view, but I believed him.
Everything would be fine.
Chapter 5
Ian and I couldn't help but feel slightly nervous as we headed over to the precinct.
It was almost lunchtime, and the Vegas sun blazed down as we drove over slowly. I checked my rearview mirror every few seconds, trying to see if there was a car tailing me—but I couldn't see anyone.
“I feel like we should stop this investigation into Charlene’s death,” Ian said, sounding as nervous as I felt.
“No, what you said earlier was right—focusing on a case will help keep us busy. And it’ll make us look like we’re leading normal lives. If Eli or his men decide to tail us, they'll see that we’re busy with work—not sitting around at home all day doing nothing.”
“Speaking of sitting around, do you think Tariq really will be safe in my apartment?”
I nodded rapidly as I parked the car. “I'm sure nobody saw him come in, and he won't be going out or speaking with anyone. And your apartment is safer than mine. Eli doesn’t even know that you and Stone are friends.”
We were still thinking about Stone and Tariq as we headed into the precinct, and said hello to the desk sergeant.
“We're here to see Detective Elwood,” I said hopefully. “He's not expecting us, but I'm sure he'll agree to talk to us.”
Ian and I made our way over to the open space work area where the detectives sat around at their desks, and worked on their various cases.
Detective Elwood was a short, balding man with a perpetual scowl. We found him at his desk hunched over piles of paperwork, a mug of milky coffee in front of him.
There was a time when the sight of us would make his scowl deepen, but today, when he looked up at Ian and I, a spark of hopefulness glittered in his watery gray eyes.
“Did you two stop by to give me more cupcakes?”
Ian and I glanced at each other sheepishly, and shrugged. The last few times, we'd brought some cupcakes over for Elwood—not that they were bribes or anything, but they seemed to put him in a better mood.
“Not today,” Ian said. “But I found this amazing recipe for red velvet cupcakes—actually, they’re red velvet surprise cupcakes because there's a little surprise in each of them. They’re going to be absolutely delicious!”
Elwood looked at me and Ian warily as we pulled out two chairs and sat down opposite him. “And when are you going to be making these cupcakes?”
“Tomorrow,” Ian promised. “Well, I was going to make them tomorrow. But then I met this guy, and he wants us to investigate something. So I'm going to make them as soon as I finish my investigation.”
Elwood leaned back in his chair. “And let me guess, you want me to help in your investigation. So when your investigation finishes quicker, you’ll be giving me those—what did you call them?—red velvet surprise cupcakes—sooner.”
Ian beamed at Elwood unashamedly. “Exactly! Ever since I learned how to bake, I'm really interested in baking more cupcakes. It's so much fun, and it's always nice to eat them after you're done with the baking. And, of course, share them with people you admire—like you.”
Elwood's brow cleared, and he smiled happily. “I would say you’re
trying to bribe me, but I did love those hazelnut cupcakes you brought for me the other day. I definitely can't wait to try these red velvet surprise cupcakes of yours.”
“I'm glad you feel that way,” I said quickly. “We really would appreciate your help. You've been on the force for so long, and you always have great ideas when it comes to cases.”
That last statement wasn't accurate, but I’d decided a bit of flattery might help our cause.
Elwood glanced at me suspiciously, as though he was trying to guess whether I was being sarcastic or not, but my face gave nothing away. He said, “What case do you want info on?”
“Charlene Nelson. She was killed a few days back.”
Elwood pressed his lips together, and shook his head unhappily. “That's an open case. And it's not mine.”
“But I'm sure you can tell us a few things. Whose case is it?”
Elwood raised one bushy eyebrow at me. “That boyfriend of yours.”
My eyes widened. “Ryan?”
Elwood looked at me smugly and winked. “I would've thought he'd tell you himself. Unless he doesn't know you're investigating this one?”
My brows knit together, and my stomach did strange, nauseating flip-flops. Not again!
The last time Ryan and I had worked together on the same case, it had been downright uncomfortable. Ryan hadn’t wanted me “influencing” witnesses or suspects, and I hadn’t thought our investigation could hurt the cops’. After all, there was no law against talking to a few people.
I sat there in silence for a few seconds, trying to process my feelings. Since Ryan and I had already worked together once, and worked out a few kinks, we’d hopefully do better the second time around.
When I didn't say anything, Ian said, “Maybe you could tell us what you're allowed to tell the public, and then we can go talk to Ryan. Where is he now?”
“Out on a case,” Elwood grumbled. “But he should be back soon. Why don't you just wait for him to get back?”
Ian shrugged. His nights at the casinos had taught him some basic bluffing skills. “Sure, but it would be nice if you could help us—that way, I can get started on those red velvet surprise cupcakes sooner.”
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