Family & Fortune (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod Book 5)

by Tracy Ellen

  I waited patiently while she gnawed on a fingernail and made up her mind. “I don’t think I’m in any danger, and I appreciate you helping us out. Umm, the other guy works here like me.” She motioned to her black uniform. “I don’t have my white apron on yet, but I’m a maid and he’s in the buffet kitchen. Anyway, we’ve sort of been going out, but after spending my last days off at his place, I was done. He never wants to go out and have fun. I got sick of doing nothing but watching movies or playing Dishonored on Xbox. He whines a lot, too. I’m not really into him, you know?”

  Sincere light brown eyes surrounded by stubby lashes met mine, and I nodded with a little laugh. “Sure, I know how that goes. We’ve all gone out with men we regret.”

  She relaxed and smiled more naturally, showing crooked front teeth. “I should have waited until after our shift to break it off, but I never thought he’d get so mad.” She gestured towards the swinging staff door behind us. “We got into a big fight, both of us yelling and cursin’. Next thing I know, he raises a fist like he’s gonna punch my lights out.” Remembering, her eyes widened in disbelief. “He’s never done nothin’ like that before, and at first, it about scared me to death. I’m no dummy to stand around and let a dude punch me, so I started runnin’.” She rubbed her shoulder and embarrassedly admitted, “I’m such a klutz, I tripped over my own two feet and crashed into the wall and fell. It hurt and then I got so mad, I started to cry. Pee Wee, that’s my ex-boyfriend’s name,” she laughed and shrugged at my raised brows, “he came over to help me up. I was so freaked out, I yelled at him to leave me the hell alone. I was about to punch his lights out,” her lips tightened in anger, “and that’s when Mr. Koch appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t ask me nothin’, just threw Pee Wee up against the wall. I was afraid he was gonna strangle him.” She shuddered. “That weird look on his face was something I can’t even describe.” Beaming a smile at me, she finished, “I was never so happy to see another person as when I saw you standing there.”

  I touched her uninjured shoulder. “I’m glad I was here. Does Mr. Koch work at the Bellagio?”

  “No, ma’am, he does not,” Melody replied firmly, “but he acts like he owns the place. He works for a high roller named Mr. Vincent Girdelli, although some folks call him Big Daddy G. He spends so much money at the casino, they’re comped for everything. Mr. Koch’s always creepin’ round the halls.” She hugged herself. “I moved here from a small town over in Oklahoma to earn some money for school and haven’t worked here real long, but all the girls warned me away from him. I’ve heard he’s into some fucked…” She suddenly recalled where we were and blushed at her gaffe. “Oh, excuse me, ma’am, what I meant to say was he’s into some far out stuff.”

  In my boots, our eyes were level, which made her around 5’4’’. Up close, Melody looked even younger than eighteen. Wearing no makeup, she had an appealingly plain face with the tanned, healthy glow and wiry build of an outdoorsy girl. But her easy, down home way of talking and practical attitude lent her a maturity her physical stature lacked.

  I smiled wryly. “No problem. And it’s Anabel, not ma’am.” I called over to Anna. “Hey, what did you say were the name of the suites we’re staying in?”

  “The Bellagio Suites in the spa tower,” Anna answered promptly.

  “Melody, my full name is Anabel Axelrod. I’m registered with Luke Drake. Can you find out our suite number? Since we’re not reporting this incident to the hotel, I want you to be able to find me if you run into any more trouble from either of those men, alright? I’m here until Wednesday afternoon.”

  “I can do that, thank you, and you can call me Melly,” she replied in a grateful rush, as she got out her phone. “Pee Wee was a jerk, but I’m not worried he’ll bother me. That Mr. Koch is somethin’ else and I don’t know what to think about him.”

  “You’re smart to trust your instincts.” Seeing her phone, I mentally smacked myself. “Here’s my cell number, too, so you can reach me anytime.”

  I rattled off the number while she keyed it into her contacts. It wasn’t necessary, since Melly could reach me, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to get her number as well. I reached inside my purse for my phone, but didn’t feel its familiar shape in the designated pocket. Searching through the main compartment, I gave up after a second when Melly looked up from her phone and started talking again.

  “There, I’ve got you in my contacts.” She grinned shyly. “The Bellagio Suites are cleaned twice a day and I have the early evening shift. Maybe I’ll even be your maid.”

  “That would be great, but please look up the suite number anyway, in case you aren’t. It would make me feel better that you know where I’m staying.”

  “I will, I promise, Anabel.”

  “Are you starting a shift now?”

  “Yes, I just wasted my weekend on Pee Wee, so I’ll be here the next five nights.”

  I smiled and nodded, inexplicably reluctant to let the younger girl out of my sight, even though Anna was tapping her foot and I knew Luke was waiting. “Do you have any girlfriends working here you trust?”

  “I guess a couple. Why?”

  “Why don’t you tell them what happened, too?” I smiled and shrugged. “Maybe I’m a little over the top, but that Kyle Koch is definitely a dangerous dude.”

  She didn’t hesitate to agree, but laughed a little. “You’re kind of scaring me.”

  “I don’t want to scare you, but I’m okay with that if it means you look over your shoulder.”

  “I will,” she replied. “You know, for a second there, I thought you knew Mr. Koch already.”

  Surprised, I asked, “No, I’ve never seen him before. Why did you think that?”

  “At the end, before he left, when he called you Anabel?” She shrugged a shoulder. “I thought he must know you.”

  “Now you’ve scared me,” I muttered, struck dumb to realize she was correct and that he had said my name. I ran the sequence of events through my mind again. “He must have overheard me tell you my name.”

  “Yeah, that must be it.” She thanked me again and we said our goodbyes.

  Melly started to limp away and then she turned around and impulsively hugged me.

  “I hope your Vegas vacation is wonderful, Anabel.” She stood back and winked. “Break the bank.”

  I smiled and patted her arm. “You stay frosty, Melly. Avoid the whiny guys you can beat up. They’ll never be worthy of you.”

  Laughing, we parted ways.

  Shaking off my unsettledness at Kyle Koch knowing my name, I rationalized it didn’t matter since it was only my first name anyway. I apologized to Anna for making her wait, quickly explaining the situation as she took my arm and led the way to the Chairman’s Lounge.

  When I was done, Anna swung me to a stop and shouted, “We haven’t even been here an hour, Junior!” A group of Japanese people stopped taking pictures and turned our way, eight pairs of eyebrows raised. Anna blushed and sent them a friendly wave, and then she lowered her voice to a hiss, “Here I couldn’t stop peeing while I’m practically having a miscarriage from the silent but deadly farts of the woman in the next stall, and you’re out fighting with freakin’ spider man!”

  “Oh, mommy be nice. I only broke up a fight, I wasn’t in one. I couldn’t just leave poor Melody.” I laughed and shook her arm. “Besides, what would you do if you saw Kyle the Cock choking the life out of Pee Wee Herman from twenty feet away?” I smiled at the hesitation in her eyes. “That’s right, my chocolate chipmunk, you’d yell at them so loud their ear drums would burst.”

  Anna tried to hide her smile, but I saw it as she bowed repeatedly and weaved us around the chattering, smiling Japanese. “Oh, alright. I know you had to help Melody, but why do these things always have to happen to you? It’s like you have some damned neon sign lit up over your head lately that attracts scary bad guys.”

  “I don’t know why, either, but perhaps you meant to say a bug zapper over my head? It’s not like the b
ad guys, and let’s not be gender biased here, Anna, or bad girls get to fly away without having their wings clipped,” I added in irritation, “if they get to walk away at all.”

  “True, but I’m your best friend and I worry. That’s what best friends do, Junior.” Her tone was haughty, but at least she’d let up on yanking my arm out of its socket. “Call me strange, but I get a little worried when my friend, who is shorter than most eleven-year olds, takes on full-grown men in dark hallways the day before my wedding!”

  Laughing, I nudged her shoulder with mine. “Ah, now I get it. You’re worried shorty here might ruin your wedding pictures with a fat lip or a black eye, is that it, Anna?”

  “Precisely,” she replied, sticking her nose in the air as we walked. “Why else would I care if you get your butt kicked?” She laughed a little. “Okay, as long as it’s over and done with, I’ll shut up.”

  “Thank you, it is.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “The ass explosion in that bathroom put me in a bad mood. No lie, I think I’m poisoned. The smell has coated the back of my throat.

  “Oh stop, your throat is fine.” I laughed. “What you need is an ice cold glass of apple juice.”

  She grabbed my elbow and pulled me through the crowd. “Apple juice sounds amazing. Come on, let’s hurry up. I’m dying of thirst.”

  Reg and Luke were the only ones left of our party waiting for us in the Chairman’s Lounge. Seeing us approach, the men stood up from their leather chairs.

  Out of the side of my mouth, I suggested, “Since it is over and done with, let’s not worry our men with the pesky details. Think of the wedding. We wouldn’t want them searching the Bellagio for a blonde dude in a black suit and beating up the wrong guy.”

  Reg called out, “What took you so long? We were just about ready to come searching for you two.”

  “See how they are?” I nodded knowingly at Anna.

  She giggled, and then immediately launched into her horror story of being trapped in the desecrated throne room. She ended with, “Be glad you didn’t come searching for us. Think of all the men eating the chili at Reg’s Christmas poker party. No lie, this smell was a hundred times worse than that, wasn’t it, Junior?”

  Smiling up at my boyfriend, I clasped his proffered hand. “I cannot lie; it was an ass disaster of epic proportions.”

  Jazy wasn’t the only psychic in the family. I had no idea how prophetic those words would be.

  Chapter XIV

  “Beautiful People” by Marilyn Manson

  Sunday 12/30

  4:35 PM

  We scored Anna her apple juice and then walked for what seemed like miles to the elevators for the spa tower.

  Luke and I held hands, strolling behind the wedding couple. I unashamedly confess to playing tourist. My head was constantly in rotation, checking out everyone and everything we passed along the way.

  Despite plenty of evidence to the contrary from the movies I’ve seen, whenever I’ve imagined the Las Vegas Strip, I stubbornly envisioned nothing but opulence and glamour.

  I pictured hotels crammed wall-to-wall with The Beautiful People. They were synonymous in my mind with those people who had nothing better to do in life than drink and shake dice. People like Eurotrash, trust fund jetsetters, and wily celebrities who capitalized on bizarre attributes to become rich and infamous, such as having a gargantuan ass or the inability to stay sober.

  I have an unexplainable soft spot for Eurotrash. I couldn’t name one, but the title invokes fashionable people who are heroin-skinny and one Gauloises away from needing a forcible shower. They’re able to pull off wearing skin-tight leather pants. They flaunt the gaping space the size of a softball between their upper thighs. I think I’ve already mentioned my legs are proportioned nicely, but you could shoot me up all day with the big H and they’d still never achieve that Eurotrash gap. It must be a Continental thing, or maybe they all had rickets as children.

  As Luke steered me around all obstacles, I also kept my eyes peeled for the beautiful prostitutes that lurked on every corner and showgirls running around in bedazzled g-strings wearing glitzy headpieces with feathers sticking up five feet in the air.

  So far, the opulence was spot on, but the glam was a vast disappointment. The people in the crowded halls were a big, fat disappointment. Unless Las Vegas hookers wore a disguise of sweatshirts, jeans, and fanny packs, the people were no different than in the casinos back home.

  All of our suites were located in the spa tower, so we rode up the elevator to Reg’s suite first.

  As Anna described, the Executive Parlor suite was an incredible space. Henry and Crookie were already playing a game of eight ball with Jazy and Tre when we arrived. Ash was blasting away on a video game in the media room. Two staff were on their way out after setting the large dining table with crystal and silver for my brother and Eric George’s last supper as single men.

  Anna stopped to converse with the staff over some details. Reg offered Luke a celebratory shot at the bar, and I quickly used the powder room.

  Afterwards, I signaled Luke we’d leave in a minute and pulled my brother aside into the only space in the suite with no people; the bedroom.

  A luxurious bed draped in amber satin linens beckoned between two enormous floor-to-ceiling picture windows. But since I was in the room with my brother, I resisted its lure.

  The drapes were pulled off to the sides of the windows, and I was captivated by the panoramic views of the setting desert sun. In the far distance, rolling mountains were black silhouettes below the soft peach and pink skies streaked with lavender gray clouds. Below me and stretching out for miles, Las Vegas was rolled out in a colorful carpet of lights.

  I whistled soundlessly. “The baron really came through, didn’t he?”

  Reg nodded. “You should check out the john I was just in.”

  Walking over to a small desk, I replied over my shoulder, “Gee thanks, but I’ll pass.”

  He chuckled and sat on the plush white sectional sofa lining one wall, idly spinning a red silk throw pillow in his hands. “I’m getting curious to finally meet this baron, aren’t you? Do you think NanaBel is considering marrying him?”

  “I can’t wait to meet the baron, but as for their marriage?” Shrugging, I laughed grimly as I opened my purse. “If I’ve learned one thing these past months, there’s nothing logical or predictable about love.”

  The baron had something important going on this past weekend in London, so he and NanaBel were due to arrive late this evening. My grandmother wasn’t going out rockin’ with us girls tonight, so the plan was to meet them for brunch in the morning.

  Reg threw the pillow aside and stretched his arms out on the sofa’s back. “Okay, now that we have the small talk out of the way, I suppose you dragged me in here to get all big sisterly on me? It’s the eve of my marriage, and you probably want to tell me what a great brother I’ve been and what a fine husband and father I’ll make.” He made a loud buzzer noise. “Sorry, but Mac and Jazy beat you to it.” He waved an arm expansively, his bright blue eyes dancing. “But, in the interest of fairness, I can listen to it all again.” He nodded regally. “You may proceed.”

  “Hasn’t anything I’ve ever taught you by shining example penetrated that thick skull? If you would have stuck with only Mac, I might have believed you. Now get over here and look at these heads.”

  Taking an envelope from my purse, I extracted photos of the unidentified man and three boys from Crazy’s sex pictures. I laid them neatly across the desk. When it popped in my head this morning that Reg might be of help since he knew everybody in Minnesota, I’d made copies of the photos and doctored them up.

  Reg grumbled I was a rotten excuse of a sister, but he got up and came over to stand beside me.

  I kept my hand over the photos. “Do not tell anybody about this. Swear?”

  He perked up. Reg loves secrets, and even better, he can keep one. “I swear.”

  I removed my hand. “Do you recogn
ize anyone?”

  He glanced down, and then his eyes flashed up to my face. “What the hell, Junior?” He pointed to the straining, red face of the man head that was vaguely familiar to me. “That’s Rick Burgess. Why do you have such a weird fucking picture of just his head?”

  I laughed at his incredulity. “Who’s Rick Burgess again?”

  “He was Faribault’s city administrator for over ten years until a few months ago. He quit and moved out of town.”

  “Huh, still doesn’t ring a bell. Why did he quit?”

  “Fuck if I know.” He shrugged. “Usual reasons, I guess, but I’ve never really heard why. It’s too bad because he did a great job.” Forgetting the other head shots, he started pacing a little. “The new guy the city council appointed is an arrogant asshole. He doesn’t know half the shit about running a city that Burgess did.” Reg snorted out a breath, “And man, does it shows in his decisions.”

  Operating a construction business, Reg interacted regularly with bureaucracies. If you’re ever curious to see the male equivalency of female hysterics in action, get a man to talk about politics. But I warn you, it’s only fun the first time. After that, I’d rather squirt ketchup all over my nude body and talk to a Grizzly. The last thing I wanted was Reg ranting and raving about local city politics, unless it was pertinent to whatever Crazy was doing with these men.

  I tapped the desk to get him focused. “What about any of these other heads?”

  He stopped pacing and bent to examine the three younger guys.

  His finger hovered over a photo and then he picked it up, humming indecisively. “I can’t be positive because I’ve never seen the kid smile so huge, but it could be Wade Patterson’s son.”

  Surprised, I peered closer to detect any family resemblance, but got nothing. I looked up at my brother. “How old is he?”

  Reg eyed me strangely. “I’d say maybe fifteen or sixteen. I don’t remember his name, but he works at Lampert Lumber. What’s this all about?”