“We could travel for a while. We should enjoy life while we’re young. He could find something else, another business, another hotel maybe.”
“Dianne, get involved in this hotel. Your hotel. I guarantee it will make Jay very happy.”
“Jay is happy. It’s me who isn’t.” With her fork, Dianne shooed a yellow jacket away.
They finished their meal in silence.
When the plates were cleared away, Dianne excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. With wry amusement, Kasey watched as the eyes of half the male diners followed her progress across the patio and into the restaurant. Dianne, wearing a lightweight miniskirt and blouse in pale aqua, seemed to exude a combination of style and sex.
Kasey focused on the lake. Like something from the pages of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, the U.S. Dixie cruised majestically over the bright-blue water with banners waving, the faint sounds of a calliope drifting in the breeze. As Kasey stared absently at the paddle wheeler, her thoughts shifted to Ansel Doyle.
Twice in two days his name had come up. Doyle, a big-time gaming mogul with a vast interest in casinos throughout Nevada, Vegas in particular, had a reputation for getting what he wanted. He also had a reputation for purchasing family-owned operations, turning them into something cold and impersonal, often neglecting the business once it began to go downhill, which was usually the case with his northern Nevada properties. Generous offer or not, if Kasey knew anything at all about Jay King, Ansel Doyle would be the last person he would sell out to.
Dianne returned. “I ordered Irish coffee for both of us.”
“Shouldn’t we be getting back?”
“Relax. Look, it was my idea to hire you. Jay can do without his super sleuth for a couple of hours.” She lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply. “By the way, have there been any more threatening letters?”
“Jay’s the one you should ask.”
“Jay is too closemouthed about his affairs. What little information I get I pick up from snatches of conversation at dinner meetings with the top brass and business associates. I would have never known about the offer to buy the club if Doyle hadn’t brought it up at dinner awhile back.”
“Maybe Jay doesn’t think you’re interested.”
“Actually, I’m not, but I’m beginning to realize that showing an interest is the only way we can converse.” Dianne’s voice quieted, she looked down into her coffee, “We haven’t been alone much lately…for conversation or anything else.”
Kasey sipped her coffee. It tasted bitter.
Dianne looked directly into Kasey’s eyes. “Do you know how long it’s been since my husband has approached me with genuine desire in his eyes? Do you? Months. Oh, we fuck— he’ll oblige me whenever I make the first move. But I’m talking desire. Pure, sexual desire. The kind that brought us together. Not to sound conceited, but I could have just about any man I want. Any of these men.” She twirled her finger to indicate the surrounding tables. “I see desire in their eyes when they look at me. They want me.” She leaned forward. “So what’s with my handsome, virile husband?”
“Dianne, I…”
Dianne laughed softly. “I’ve embarrassed you. Oh boy, times have changed. We used to be able to talk about anything. Sex in particular. Remember?”
How could Kasey forget? Before Dianne and Jay were married, Dianne, not one to be shy or modest, had told Kasey and the other cocktail waitresses everything about her affair with Jay. In vivid detail she described their lovemaking until the women were fanning flushed faces with their drink trays and, little by little, falling in love with Jay King.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much to share with you in that department,” Kasey said with a slight grin. “My social life is somewhat stalled.”
“I know one or two men who could change that.”
Kasey raised her hands, palms toward Dianne as though warding off a curse, “Please, no—”
“Okay. But you don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Is this a personal recommendation?”
Dianne merely smiled.
“Dianne, you’ve cheated on Jay?”
“Cheated is such an ugly word. I like to think of it as marriage enhancement. I’m careful. I’m discreet. And I’m sure Jay is, too.”
“You two have—what?—an open marriage?”
Dianne smiled again. “Let’s just say we’re both open-minded.”
She was lying, Kasey told herself Jay had more scruples than that. Uncomfortable with the subject, Kasey changed it.
*
At 5:00, Dianne dropped Kasey at the hotel. Minutes later, in the executive office, Jay’s secretary told her to go right in.
Jay was reclining in his chair, feet crossed on his desk top, reading from a file. He wore rimless reading glasses, which Kasey thought gave him a studious yet provocative look. He didn’t hear her enter.
“Sorry it took so long,” she said.
He quickly dropped his feet to the floor and began to rise.
“No, don’t get up.”
He settled back down, glanced at his watch. “You’re back early, considering.” He smiled, removed the glasses. “Lunch with Dianne is usually an all-day affair. Sit.”
She sat in a ball-and-claw, pub-back chair of oxblood leather that faced the desk. “Anything?”
He shook his head. “No sign of our Miss Ramos anywhere in the hotel. CSI dusted the scene and naturally found no prints since housekeeping employees are required to wear gloves. Police are waiting for her at her house.”
“Does she have a family?”
“Single. Lives with her sister’s family.”
“Where’s Brad?”
“I sent him home. I knew you’d be back. There wasn’t enough for the three of us to do. The police are handling the room burglary. If it was the maid who was going through the rooms all along, then at least we know it’s over. Like most thieves, she got greedy and went for it when she came across a bankroll large enough to make a hit and run worthwhile.”
“I hope you’re right. About her being the one.”
“But you don’t think I am?”
“No. It’s too pat. There’s something going on here, Jay, and it’s anything but pat. We can’t overlook the threats. Has anything happened lately to warrant threats?”
He swiveled around, gazed out the window. Moments later, he turned back. “A couple months ago, Yanick spotted Dan Carne in the club. He had him tossed out.”
“Dan Carne. A reputed mobster, convicted mostly for sports-fixing, but has a hand in just about everything from loan-sharking to slot-cheating.”
“You know him?”
“I had the pleasure once.” Several years ago, while on a job, Kasey had witnessed the arrest of a Black Book member who by merely entering the casino and playing the slots violated the state law. Nevada’s infamous Black Book presently consisted of approximately two-dozen people lawfully excluded from casinos due to unsavory gaming backgrounds and or alleged mob connections. Dan Carne had been with him at the time. “I hear the Gaming Control Board is considering Carne for a spot in the state’s Black Book.”
“Can’t be too soon for me. He raised hell when we gave him the boot. Said we couldn’t keep him out.” Jay rubbed his chin. “You may have hit on something, Kasey. It’s certainly worth looking into.”
“Dianne told me Ansel Doyle made an offer on the club. She said you turned it down.”
“That’s right.”
“Could there be anything there?”
“Ansel has made offers on dozens of casinos over the years. I’m sure he’s been turned down a time or two.”
“Was it an earnest offer?”
“Yeah, it was. Which made no difference since I don’t plan to sell the club at any price.”
Kasey wondered if the recent incidents in the hotel might have something to do with the gaming mogul’s interest in the property. Doyle had a reputation for less-than-ethical business tactics. Nothing illegal, nothing to jeopardize hi
s gaming license. However, if he could slow down or interrupt business, or in some way tarnish the good name of the club, the loss of revenue to the King family could be devastating.
On the desk top Jay lifted a large ivory paperweight shaped like a stacked pair of dice, took the envelope beneath it, and handed it to Kasey.
Inside, a single sheet of hotel notepaper read: Working for King’s Club could be hazardous to your health. She turned over the envelope. It was addressed to Howard Cummings, Jay’s right-hand man.
Kasey looked up at Jay quizzically.
“Howard thinks whoever mailed this to him also tried to run him off the road last night at the lookout point on Windy Hill. He banged up his rear fender and blew a tire, yet managed to stop before he careened over the edge. He was pretty shook up afterward and damn mad. Figured it was a drunk or some kids driving recklessly. That is, until this afternoon when he received that.” Jay pointed at the note. “Now, of course he’s having second thoughts.”
“Did he get a good look at the car?”
“Nope.”
“Did you fill him in on what’s going on?”
“No. I thought I’d run it by you first.”
“Were there witnesses to last night’s incident?”
“No. Which is why he didn’t bother to report it to the police.”
Cummings could have made up the story and even sent himself the warning. “Tell him he should be careful, but don’t go into a lot of detail just yet. Just say you’ve been getting threats, too.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He inhaled deeply, rubbed the back of his neck. “Kasey, you might as well go on home. I have a few things to finish up here, then I think I’ll head out. I haven’t been home at a decent hour in weeks.”
“Dianne will be glad to see you.”
“Surprised is more like it.” He looked down, shuffled some papers on his desk. “Is there someone waiting for you? A special guy?” He looked up. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for keeping you away from, well, whomever.”
“There’s no one.”
She was almost to the door when he stopped her.
He wrote something on a pad, tore it off, and handed it to her. “It’s the number for my private line here in the office. You should have it in case, well, you know, in case something should come up. You already have my home number and the car phone, yes?”
“Yes.”
In the elevator Kasey hit the button for the lower level. She had an idea, wanted to check it out. Inez Ramos and Paula Volger worked the same floor. It was possible they were friends.
In the Esmeralda Lounge she found Paula sitting on the end stool, her back to the door. When Kasey took the stool next to her, Paula swiveled around quickly.
“Christ, Inez, where the hell have you be—” Her words were cut off abruptly at the sight of Kasey. “Oh, I thought you was someone else.”
“Inez Ramos? Is she meeting you here?”
Paula turned back to her beer. “Maybe.”
“She’s late, isn’t she?”
Paula faced her again. “Look, I know what’s been going around. I hear things. I just want you to know, you and anybody else who’s interested, that Inez Ramos is just about the most upright person in this whole stinkin’ place. If something’s missing, Inez had nothin’ to do with it.”
“Where is she then?”
Paula slid off the stool, grabbed her purse.
Kasey held her arm. “Paula, talk to me. I want to help. I’m not the cops.”
“Just what are you?”
“My name is Kasey Atwood. Right now I’m with the hotel. That’s all I can say.”
“Same thing. Look, Inez is my best friend. She—hey, I don’t want to talk about her until I know exactly what’s goin’ on.”
Kasey nodded. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Paula tapped a pile of complimentary drink tickets in front of her. “You want somethin’, I’ll buy.” Paula gestured to the barkeep.
“I’ll have what she’s drinking,” Kasey said to the bartender who, Kasey recalled, liked to give freebies to his friends.
He placed two Coors in front of them and a glass for Kasey, took two drink tokes, and moved away.
“A considerable amount of money is missing from one of the rooms Inez was assigned to. Her housekeeping cart was found in the supply room hours before her shift was over. She’s nowhere in the hotel. If what you say about her is true, then it’s possible she may be in danger. When was the last time you talked with her?”
“This morning.”
“Did she say anything? Anything that might explain what’s happened or where she is?”
Paula looked away; her fingers scratched on the bottle’s label. “Well, she has been acting weird lately. I figured it was a guy. Inez is shy, trustin’. She’s not too smart where men are concerned. We met in here last night. She was all dreamy and distracted, like people get when they’re falling hard for someone. She seemed okay in wardrobe this morning; but when I saw her on the floor a little later, she was bummed out about somethin’.”
“You don’t know who it is she’s seeing?”
“I don’t even know for sure if she is seeing anyone.”
“Is she having financial problems?”
“Inez? Naw. She lives with her sister’s family. They love having her there. She minds the kids for ‘em. Five of them. Inez leads a real low-maintenance existence. She’s pretty content with what she’s got, not at all materialistic. No way. That’s why she’d never risk her job by stealing. There’s nothing she’d want that bad. ‘Cept maybe a good, lovin’ man.”
“What if someone else put her up to it?”
“You mean…?”
“She wouldn’t be the first gullible woman to be influenced by a lover.”
“Yeah, well—listen, I think we’ve talked enough about Inez.”
“Can I ask you something else? This doesn’t concern Inez.”
“Guess I can’t stop you from askin’.”
“Paula, will you tell me what happened to you in the parking garage on Monday?”
“You ain’t gonna let up, are you?”
“I don’t like to see women abused.”
“Me, neither.” She paused, then said, “Hell, there’s no denying I was plastered. Only it wasn’t like that wormy bastard said. Look, there’s something creepy about that guy. If anyone’s got something to hide, it’s that one. This afternoon I saw him coming—” Paula abruptly stopped talking. She stared straight ahead, her mouth open.
Kasey followed her gaze. At the opposite end of the room, a uniformed guard stood in the other doorway, backlit by the lights in the corridor. He seemed to be looking their way. It was too dim for Kasey to see the man’s face clearly, but his size and shape were familiar.
“Is that him?” Kasey asked.
Paula slid off the stool.
“Paula? Paula, don’t go.”
Paula rushed from the bar. Kasey turned back, looking for the guard. He was gone.
Back in her office, Kasey found a message to call Peggy Randall. Peggy was Kasey’s rock, and vice versa. Kasey, Peggy, and Dianne had worked together ten years ago. For Peggy, the beautiful daughter of an Irish mother and a black father, the job at the club had been short-lived under the Walker and Smart reign of sexual harassment. At the time, Peggy had little or no will to fight yet another form of inane prejudice; today, given the same situation, she would not have caved in so easily. Between Dianne and Peggy, Kasey had been the friend in the middle—a neutral point of a triangle. Over the years as Dianne and Kasey drifted apart, Peggy and Kasey had become best friends.
Peggy was engaged to Artie Brown. Artie, an intermittent boarder at the Atwood house, spent the majority of his time with Peggy at her condo in Reno. But because their relationship was anything but tranquil, Artie maintained a room in the boardinghouse. When Peggy threw him out, which was once or twice a month, he had a place to crash until they made up and she let him back.
Kasey could guess what Peggy wanted. Both Peggy and Artie held night classes at the Y. Artie taught Tae-Kwon-Do to children and Peggy taught self-defense for women, a class that Kasey helped with when needed.
She made the call.
“Kasey, I’m so glad you got back to me in time,” Peggy said. “Sweetie, say you’ll give me a hand tonight with the class.”
“I’ll give you hand. And a foot and the other foot and—”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver. 7:30? We’ll get a bite afterwards?’’
“Sounds good.”
They said goodbye. It was 6:30. Enough time for her to go home, change clothes, and return to town.
In the lobby, across from the reception area, Kasey saw Jay talking with a security guard. At the same time, at the side entrance, she saw a police car pull up, then another. Jay looked around, spotted her, gestured for her to join him; then he intercepted the two policemen entering the hotel. As she approached, she heard one of them say, “Basement. Homicide.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Who found the body?” Det. Loweman asked the guard.
In a far corner of the basement, behind the yellow crime-scene tape, Frank Loweman stood with Jay and Kasey. The detective had arrived as the area was being secured.
“A maintenance man,” the security guard said. “Says he saw one of the dishwashers hightailing it outta here like Satan himself was on his backside; and since it’s an unauthorized area, he was curious, came back here to see what the guy was running away from. That’s what he found.” The guard nodded toward the dead woman in the tan housekeeping uniform lying spread-eagled on the concrete floor. Her head was twisted at an odd angle against a blood-splattered tin duct.
“Where is he?”
“The maintenance man or the dishwasher?”
“Whoever we got. Preferably both.”
The guard called to a man in brown work clothes. The man hurried over.
“You found the body?” Loweman asked the maintenance man.
“Yes, sir. Name’s Bill Hogan.”
“And you saw a guy running from here, Mr. Hogan?”
“Yes, sir. His name is Ruiz. He works in the main kitchen. I believe your men have him upstairs in the holding room.”
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