Following Sonya’s directions, she made a right turn out of the airport complex onto Tropicana, and drove east until she encountered the northbound ramp for I-515. The Interstate carried her most of the way to her destination. At 3:45am, she pulled into the parking lot of the Bonanza Garden Apartments and shut off the engine with a sigh of relief. After retrieving her carry-on bag from the back of the car, she paused to ensure the vehicle was locked before looking around her.
“We’re in Building 103, on the second floor,” Sonya had told her over the telephone. “Unit E. Turn right at the top of the stairs, and follow the outside corridor all the way to the end.”
Millie could see a light in the window of one of the buildings a couple of hundred yards ahead, and started walking in that direction. Verifying that she had found the correct building, she climbed the flight of stairs, turned right, and rang the doorbell to Unit E. A muffled shriek of metal on metal announced the sliding of a deadbolt. The door opened a crack, held in place by a security chain. “It’s Millie,” she called through the opening. “Colin’s sister.”
The door closed momentarily, then opened wide. “Come inside, quickly.” Sonya’s voice trembled. “I think the building is being watched.” She took Millie by the hand, pulling her through the doorway with surprising strength. Slamming the door shut, she slid the security chain and deadbolt back into place. At last, she turned to Millie with a tremulous smile. “Thank you. I don’t know how to thank you? I didn’t know who else to call. I didn’t really believe you’d come. I…” She blushed, put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, where are my manners? You must be tired. Come and sit down.” Sonya led the way into the living room, and gestured in the direction of the sofa.
Millie settled back against the stiff cushions and observed Sonya, who had perched on the edge of a matching chair across the small living room. Her sister-in-law looked older than her nineteen years. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was haggard. Her eyes were restless, darting back and forth between her guest, the front door, and her hands, which she clasped and unclasped spasmodically in her lap. Under other circumstances, Millie thought, Sonya would be attractive. Her raven-black hair fell below her shoulders, and her dark eyes and full lips gave her appearance a touch of the exotic. She was enveloped in an oversized bathrobe that enhanced the aura of vulnerability surrounding her.
Millie leaned forward with a smile of encouragement, trying to put the younger woman at ease. “Tell me about you and Colin.”
“I moved to Las Vegas in January 1982?” Sonya began, her sing-song voice betraying her youth and nervousness. “I grew up in Victorville. That’s in California? Between here and Los Angeles? My grandparents own a small restaurant - a diner, really - near the Roy Rogers Museum. Most of their business comes from tourists who stop for a bite of lunch on their way to or from Las Vegas. Roy Rogers and his wife, Dale Evans, used to drop by the museum almost every day. Sometimes, they would come into the diner to chat with the tourists and sign autographs.”
She raised her head, alert. “I think I just heard the baby. I’d better check on her. I’ll be right back.” Sonya sprang from her seat and disappeared through an open archway in the wall across from the sofa.
While she waited for her sister-in-law to return, Millie let her eyes wander over the room, taking in the upholstered sofa and matching chair, the rectangular walnut-veneered coffee table and matching lamp table, the bare walls, and the faded, tufted carpeting. The tables were chipped and scuffed, the upholstery threadbare, and the walls in need of painting. A well-worn path across the carpet led from the front door to the archway. To Sonya’s credit, the sparsely furnished living room was clean and tidy.
After a few minutes, Sonya returned, a baby cradled in her arms. “Would you mind holding Sarita while I warm her bottle?” she asked Millie. “It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Millie reached out her arms to receive her niece. She looked down at the baby’s face, and her heart melted. “She’s the image of Colin at this age,” she said, “except for her eyes and the color of her hair. In those, she takes after you. What did you say is her name?”
“We decided to name her ‘Sara’ after Colin’s mother, and ‘Rita’ after my Gran. ‘Sarita’ for short.”
Millie crooned a wordless melody from her own childhood, while she rocked the baby. When Sonya returned, carrying a baby bottle and a small flannel towel, she offered them to Millie. “Would you like to feed her?”
“Very much.” Millie lifted the baby, allowing Sonya to place the towel on her lap. Accepting the proffered bottle, she teased the nipple into Sarita’s mouth. Once the infant began to suckle, she encouraged Sonya to continue her story.
“I graduated from high school with a B+ average. Decent enough grades, but not scholarship material,” Sonya said as she resumed her seat. “I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life trapped in Victorville, working in a restaurant kitchen or waiting tables in my grandparents’ diner. I wanted to continue my education. I had saved up enough to cover tuition and books at Victor Valley Community College. I hoped to continue living at home, but my grandparents wouldn’t hear of it. Gran said I would have to ‘pull my own weight’ if I wanted to live with them. Work full-time in the diner, she meant. I know she and Grandpa hoped I’d take over running the business one day so they could retire.”
“So, what did you do?”
Sonya shrugged. “What could I do? I went to work in the diner. Then, one evening, I saw an ad on TV for a trade school. One that trained students for a career in the gaming industry. I sent away for the brochures and an application form. The package I received included a fistful of reviews from satisfied graduates, who described how they had earned piles of money as dealers and croupiers in the Las Vegas casinos. I took all of my savings out of the bank, packed my bags, and caught a Greyhound bus to Vegas. I figured I’d go to school during the day, and wait tables in the evenings to cover my room and board.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t long before I realized I didn’t have what it takes. I was clumsy with the shuffles and deals, and I couldn’t get the hang of the patter. Dealers have to keep up a running conversation with the players. Entertain them, so they don’t walk away from the table if they’re losing. If players are having a good time, they bet more, and tip more. I couldn’t deal, keep track of all the bets, and chat up the gamblers all at the same time. I quit school and found work as a cocktail waitress instead. That’s how I met Colin.”
She paused as Millie lifted Sarita from her lap, rubbed her back to elicit a quiet burp, and teased the nipple back into her tiny mouth. Once the infant had resumed feeding, Sonya picked up the thread of her story. “I had just started working the evening shift at the Gold Dragon Casino downtown. Colin was a member of their security team. His job was to switch out the cash boxes hourly, and to bring fresh racks of gambling chips to the tables whenever the pit boss called for them. We both worked the same shift, and would run into each other on the floor from time to time. But we never said more than a few words to each other. One night, after my shift, I was harassed by a drunken tourist as I was walking to my car in the casino’s parking garage. Colin happened to be passing by, and he rescued me. After that, he would wait for me at the end of the shift, and escort me to my car. One thing let to another. I moved in with him last April, and we were married six months later.”
“I didn’t trap him, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Sonya said, anticipating Millie’s disapproval. “We were in love. We would have married eventually. It just happened sooner than we’d planned on.” The baby had fallen asleep in Millie’s arms, and Sonya reached out for her daughter. “I’ll lay her in her crib, and put on a pot of coffee. I think we could both use some.”
Millie followed Sonya out of the living room and watched from the bedroom doorway. The young mother placed Sarita on her back in the crib, planted a tender kiss on the baby’s forehead, and tip-toed out of the room. She led the way into the kitchen, and invi
ted Millie to make herself comfortable at the table while the coffee was perking. Sonya opened the refrigerator and peered inside with a frown. “I’m afraid we’re out of cream. I haven’t been able to shop for groceries. Colin took our car, and the grocery store is too far away to walk. Besides, there’s no one I can trust to stay with Sarita.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Millie offered. “As soon as the supermarket opens, you can take my rental car and stock up on food. There are some phone calls I need to make, including to the Las Vegas police. I want to find out why they believe Colin is involved in the casino robbery.”
As Sonya was leaving the apartment, Millie placed a long-distance call to Dick in Stowe, to tell him where she was, and to report the little information she had obtained from the Lawrenceville students. The cold, impersonal tone of his parting words, ‘do what you have to do,’ sent a chill of foreboding through her. Millie replaced the receiver on its cradle and hugged herself for warmth. She had let Dick down. Disappointed him. Millie hoped she would be able to repair the damage after this nightmare was over. After Artie was safe and Colin was safe.
Chapter Nineteen
Millie sat at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and staring at the front-page newspaper article she had taken with her from the plane. Once again, her eyes focused on her brother’s name in the third paragraph. According to the story, the detective in charge of the Downtown Division’s Major Crimes desk was leading the investigation. Laying the article on the table next to her coffee cup, she opened the phone book and found the listing she needed. Reaching for the telephone, she called the Las Vegas Police Department and asked to speak with Detective Lieutenant Filipe Davila.
Upon learning that Davila was not expected in until noon, Millie considered her next move. Once Sonya returned with the groceries, she would head downtown to police headquarters. Consulting the phone book once again, Millie jotted down the street address, then examined the crude map on the inside front cover of the book to determine her best route. The Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department was located in City Hall, on the fringe of the downtown gambling strip, and only a couple of miles away from where she sat. Once there, Millie was confident she would be able to talk her way inside, and could foresee only two difficulties: finding a parking spot downtown, and prying the information she was seeking out of Lt. Davila.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. She stuffed the driving directions into her pocket and went to the front door, peering through the peephole before releasing the deadbolt and opening the door. Sonya was alone, one overfilled bag of groceries in each arm, two more bags and a large package of disposable diapers on the floor by her feet. She helped Sonya carry the groceries to the kitchen, and offered to make breakfast for both of them while her sister-in-law checked on the baby. Soon, the two women were seated at the kitchen table, sharing a meal of orange juice, fried eggs, toast, and coffee. As they ate, Millie continued to probe Sonya for information about Colin’s behavior prior to his disappearance.
“Did he seem tense? Or upset?” she asked. “Did you notice any change in his routine?” Sonya shifted in her seat, opened her mouth as though to speak, flushed, and remained silent. Millie leaned back and waited, an encouraging smile on her face. For several minutes, only the hum of the refrigerator’s compressor and the ticking of the wall clock broke the silence.
At last, Sonya spoke, her voice low and tremulous. “I don’t want to get him into trouble.”
“He’s already in trouble. Colin has a remarkable talent for getting into trouble. I’m trying to get him out of trouble. If you know anything - anything at all - you must tell me.”
Sonya looked down at her hands, examining her fingernails as though they belonged to someone else. “When Colin and I started dating,” she said, “I was always prettied up. I had nice clothes, my hair was always done, my nails manicured. I wasn’t planning to get married so young. But when I discovered I was pregnant, I panicked.” She looked at Millie, a tear trickling down her cheek. “I told Colin. I even offered to get an abortion. But he said he wanted the baby, and asked me to marry him.” She shook her head. “Everything was fine at first. We were both working the evening shift, and I was feeling good. No morning sickness or anything. But casino operators want their cocktail waitresses to be slim and sexy. I had to quit my job once I started to show. Colin said I shouldn’t worry. He’d be able to earn enough to support all three of us. He took on a second shift at the casino.” Sonya’s face crumpled, and she buried it in her hands.
Millie sat motionless, waiting for Sonya to regain her composure. Her patience was rewarded. Sonya took a deep breath, looked up at Millie through tear-filled eyes, and continued her story. “After the baby was born, Colin changed. He was jealous of Sarita. Of all the time I spent with her. He didn’t seem to understand the baby needed me. He expected my undivided attention whenever he was home. I was new at taking care of a baby. I had to learn to change her diapers, to prepare her bottles, to bathe her. And everything seemed to take so much time and effort. To make matters worse, Colin wasn’t interested in helping. He was too tired from working two shifts, he would tell me. In his opinion, he shouldn’t have to support us and help with the baby and the housework, too.” Sonya looked at her sister-in-law. “You must remember how it was, Millie? What it was like to take care of a baby.”
Millie felt a sharp pang as though the scab of an old wound had been ripped away. Tears welled in her eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper, and she spoke as though to herself. “Yes, I remember how it was.”
“Well, then, you can understand. We began to quarrel more and more frequently. Our arguments upset the baby, who wouldn’t stop crying. This made Colin even more angry. I was happy to see him out the door every day, and dreaded his return. Then, about three weeks ago, he seemed to relax. He became the old Colin. The man I fell in love with. He told me things were looking up. He said he was expecting a promotion and a raise, and would be able to cut back to one shift. A few days later, he disappeared.”
“Why did you wait so long to contact me?”
“I was afraid to.” Sonya admitted. “I knew you had given him money in the past. One day, when we were down to our last few dollars, I asked him about contacting you. For a loan, I mean. Just to tide us over. He blew up at me. Told me to mind my own business. Told me he was perfectly able to take care of us without your interference. He said I should never, ever try to go to you behind his back, or I’d be sorry.” Her eyes welled with tears. “I wish I had called you sooner. Maybe Colin wouldn’t be in such big trouble now if I had.”
Chapter Twenty
It was not yet 11:00am when Millie parked her car in the lot across the street from City Hall. She had been too restless to sit around the apartment all morning making pointless conversation with Sonya. Instead, after showering and dressing with her usual care, she left the apartment and drove downtown. The casino where Colin worked was only a few blocks away from City Hall. She decided to walk over, to see what she could learn about her brother’s activities prior to his disappearance. By the time she returned to City Hall, Davila should be in his office.
The Gold Dragon Casino/Hotel was the largest and most opulent of the downtown casinos, Sonya had told Millie, filling an entire city block from Fremont on the north to Bridger on the south. The main entrance was located on Casino Center Boulevard, midway between Fremont and Bridger. A secondary entrance on South 1st Street faced the hotel’s self-parking garage. Millie pushed through a glass entrance door at the corner of Fremont and Casino Center, and walked into a wall of sound. Having visited the Resorts Casino in Atlantic City on occasion, she was familiar with the non-stop clinks and bells emanating from slot machines. But she had never seen or heard anything on this scale. There were hundreds of slot machines. They marched in long rows, the breaks between the banks of machines staggered so that it was impossible to traverse the room in a direct line. Slot machines also lined the perimeter of the casino with only an occasional break i
n their ranks for a cocktail bar, and defined the passageway to the buffet restaurant at the far end of the room. The lights and sounds reflected off the mirrored ceiling, amplifying the cacophony generated by the one-armed bandits.
Millie wove through the maze to the center of the room, which was fitted out with long rows of semi-circular blackjack tables arranged in a racetrack pattern, the dealers and pit-bosses in the center. At this hour, only half of the tables were manned and ready, and just one-third of those were in use. A metallic click-click sound caught Millie’s attention, and she looked around to identify its source. The dealer at one of the tables stood with raised hand as a circulating cocktail waitress headed in his direction. While Millie watched, he placed a mechanical clicker on the table next to his tray of gambling chips and waited, his eyes darting back and forth across the table and around the room, as the waitress took drink orders from the four gamblers who were seated before him. Catching Millie’s eye, he gestured toward an empty seat in a silent invitation for her to join the table. She responded with a slight smile and a shake of the head, and strolled away.
She circled the blackjack pits two or three times, soaking in the rhythm of the play, the actions of the dealers, and the subtle alertness of the pit-bosses. Security teams circulated in pairs in a random pattern that Millie soon realized was carefully scripted. She moved aside to allow a cart laden with gambling chips to pass, an armed and uniformed security guard walking on either side of it. As the cart reached one of the blackjack tables, the dealer stepped back. One of the guards removed a cash box from a shelf under the table, verified its lock was intact, and swapped it out for a box from the cart. The second guard delivered a tray filled with color-sorted stacks of gambling chips. The dealer counted the chips and signed a chit to acknowledge delivery, before handing the receipt to the pit boss for his signature. The entire process took no more than a couple of minutes.
The Gold Dragon Caper_A Damien Dickens Mystery Page 10