Beautiful Girls

by Gary S. Griffin

“Sure, I mean, well, it’s not like that.”

  Romeo smiled and said, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

  He was drawing some odd conclusions, but I stayed silent as I wanted his help.

  Then, he said, “So, what can I get you and your beautiful new friend?”

  “Mel wants me to surprise her.”

  “Oh, I can help with that.”

  I asked, “Do you have any special house cocktails?”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “What do you suggest then?”

  Romeo answered a question with a question. “How about a Cosmo?”

  “I think Mel wants something more interesting. Be creative.”

  “OK, I’ve got just the thing.”

  “Cool. I’ll take a vodka tonic.”

  “Coming right up.”

  Romeo went to the far end of the bar to make our drinks. While I waited I turned and scanned the terrace for any sign of Rob; no luck. Mel came back and danced a few steps to the techno music in the background before she sat down. I shocked Mel when I told her our bartender’s name. She smiled and nodded.

  Romeo returned with a red fruity cocktail and my clear drink, placed them in front of us, looked at Mel and said, “This is Sex in the City.”

  “Oh, neat.” She then looked at me and said, “This is special.”

  Romeo said, “That will be fifteen for the lady’s drink and ten bucks for the vodka tonic.”

  I put forty dollars on the bar.

  As Romeo picked up the two bills and walked to the cash register, Mel and I said “Cheers” to each other and had our first sips.

  Mel whispered, “Wow, that’s good, but strong,” and winked at me.

  She took another sip, put down her glass as Romeo laid the change on the bar, and said, “Romeo, we’re looking for something and wondered if you could help us.”

  He smiled, “Sure, what is it, sweetheart?”

  She began, “Well, we’re looking for a clue…”

  Within a minute, Romeo made the time-out sign with his hands and stopped my newfound friend before she could complete our story.

  “That didn’t take long.”

  I said, “What didn’t take long?”

  “You guys.”

  Mel said, “You were expecting us?”

  Romeo pointed at me and said, “I was expecting him. You’re Garrett, right?”

  I nodded and said, “Yes, but how…?”

  Romeo continued, “You’re playing a game and I have the next clue.”

  I grabbed Mel’s thigh under the bar to stop her from speaking. While she looked at me, I said, “That’s right, it’s a game, like Hide and Seek.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told.”

  “Who told you, Romeo?”

  “I was told you would guess who.”

  Mel watched our dialogue and took another sip of her drink.

  I said, “An older white guy, with white hair. He’s lean with an unhappy expression most of the time. His name is Rob Nealy. Am I correct?”

  “Sonavabitch. I didn’t think you’d show.”

  I asked, “When was he here?”

  “Last night, early in the evening. He asked me if I’d be working tonight. I told him yes. He then asked me to hold this.”

  Romeo reached under the bar and brought the fourth clue into view. It was an envelope, like the first clue, with my name written on the front in blue ink.

  Romeo continued, “He gave me twenty bucks to hold it for you.”

  Mel gushed, “This is amazing, Stevie.”

  I said, “That’s the third clue we’ve found tonight.”

  Romeo said, “I’ll give it to you, but he wanted me to be sure you’re Garrett. Can you show me your driver’s license?”

  I did as he asked, and as he handed me the envelope he said, “Wow, you’re a long way from home.”

  I asked, “Did Rob say anything else to you?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Was he drinking?”

  “Yes, vodka, neat.”

  I remembered the empty bottles of that spirit in the mountain cabin above Tucson. It was Rob.

  “Was he drunk?”

  “No, not really. He had two drinks while he was here. He spoke fine and he seemed really focused.”

  I said, “He is.”

  Not knowing what else to ask, I said, “Thanks for your help.”

  “Yesh, thanksh,” slurred Mel.

  I looked at her and said, “Are you okay?”

  “I da know, Stevie, my eyes are getting bwurry.”

  I saw that she had drunk over half her drink.

  “What happened? Do you usually have problems with alcohol?”

  “No, not this quick-we.”

  I looked for Romeo. He had disappeared. When I turned back to Mel she said, “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Mel, let’s get out of here.”

  “Yesh, pwease.”

  I put the envelope in my back pocket and helped Mel off her bar stool. She practically fell into my arms. I helped her stand. I had my arm around her waist and she leaned into me. I spotted the elevator and headed that way.

  She said, “I can walk, I’m just feelin’ drunk.”

  The elevator came up to our floor. The doors opened and unloaded new partiers. We entered and rode down to the main floor. We exited and I saw a hallway that led to the hotel. I steered Mel to the lobby as I thought it would be best way to get a taxi.

  ***

  Once inside Caesar’s Palace, I had Mel sit on a sofa. I noticed her eyes were really dilated; that wasn’t normal from one drink. No wonder she had blurry vision.

  “Whah happened, Stevie?”

  “I don’t know. Did you take any prescriptions today?”

  “No.”

  I thought back to my rooftop conversation with the bartender.

  “I think you’ve been drugged.”

  “By who?”

  “My guess is Romeo, in your drink.”

  I felt horrible that I had contributed to this by not setting Romeo clear about my relationship with Mel.

  “What?”

  “We’ll never be able to prove it.”

  “Oh, God, I betcha he put a roofy in my drink! That happened to Harmony at The Bank.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I wasn’t with her but she said she got really horny and her eyes got blurry and her words got slurry. It didn’t last long; two or three hours. She was OK the next day.”

  “There’s a store over there. Stay here and I’ll get some water. Are you hungry?”

  “I guess. Get me a chocolate bar.”

  I did and Mel slowly drank the water and ate the candy. About twenty minutes later, she started to feel better, but her sight was still blurry. She was also leaning on me, but was able to stay awake.

  “We should get you home, Mel. My guess is you’re out of danger, but you might crash and fall asleep at any moment.”

  “Oh, Stevie, I’m sorry I messed up our hunt.”

  “It’s getting late anyway, and I’ve had a long day, too.”

  It was a few minutes before midnight.

  I asked, “Do you think you can stand?”

  “With your help.”

  “OK, let’s get a taxi and we’ll have him take us back to Liquid.”

  She said, “You’re coming with me. I could never drive home like this.”

  “I will. Tell me where you live, now, because you look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

  “I live in Henderson, in the Avalon Condos. It’s about thirty minutes from here. We need to take I-15 south. It not hard to find, but I can’t see…”

  “Hold on Mel. I’ll ask the front desk for directions. I’m sure someone there can help us. Don’t move again.”

  The first desk clerk pointed me to the other desk clerk who lived in Henderson, too. She wrote out simple directions to Mel’s condo. When I returned to Mel she sat with her eyes closed and she looked asleep. I sat next to
her and placed my right hand on her left thigh. My touch woke her.

  “You OK, Mel?”

  She put her hand on top of mine. She said, “I’m doing OK, but everything is still blurry.”

  “Just stay close to me and we’ll get out of here.”

  We stood and began our walk to the entrance.

  “I must look awful.”

  “No, you look very good for a woman whose been drugged.”

  She smiled, kissed me on the cheek and said, “Edie’s a lucky girl.”

  Clue Four

  Saturday, October 23, 2004

  I hailed a cab and in seconds we were on our way back to Liquid. I had the cabbie take us right to the Mustang. Mel directed me to her Honda to get the remote control that opened the security gate at her condo.

  The Honda was in the far end of the lot and sat by itself. Mel gave me her keys and I grabbed the remote device from her sun visor and returned to the Mustang.

  Mel had reclined her seat a bit and said, “Stevie, open the fourth clue and read it. We can talk about it on the ride to Henderson. It might keep me awake.”

  “OK, why not?”

  The letter held the now familiar two pieces of paper. The excerpt from the Bible was the next verses from 1 Samuel, Chapter 25.

  Meanwhile, one of Nabal’s servants went to Abigail and told her, “David sent messengers from the wilderness to greet our master, but he screamed insults at them. These men have been very good to us, and we never suffered any harm from them. Nothing was stolen from us the whole time they were with us. In fact, day and night they were like a wall of protection to us and the sheep. You need to know this and figure out what to do, for there is going to be trouble for our master and his whole family. He’s so ill-tempered that no one can even talk to him!”

  The clue read:

  David,

  You think you’re doing well. We’ve only just begun. The next clue’s details are in the devil’s den. But, if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the cocina.

  Nabal

  “God, these Bible verses and the clues are so weird, aren’t they, Stevie?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That verse about David and his men being a wall of protection. That’s what you are to me. I’m one of your sheep. Where would I be without you, with those wolves at Pure on a Friday night?”

  “I got you into that mess, Mel.”

  “It’s not your fault. Stuff like this happens in Vegas. You’re getting me out of trouble now. You know what to do. Thank you.”

  “Well, you’re welcome. What about this clue? What does he mean by the devil’s den and the hot cocina?”

  “Umm…I’m not sure. But, cocina is Spanish for kitchen. Let me think.”

  “Sure.”

  I started the Mustang, drove out of the lot and headed south on Las Vegas Boulevard. Minutes passed. I turned right onto West Tropicana Avenue and was nearing the on ramp to I-15 South.

  I thought Mel was asleep, but then she shouted, “Stop, Stevie, pull over, don’t get on the freeway!”

  “Why?”

  “I know where the next clue is!”

  “Hold on!”

  I continued straight over top the Las Vegas Freeway and turned right at the next light onto Dean Martin Drive and pulled into an In and Out Burger parking lot. I parked the car and turned off the engine.

  I looked at Mel and said, “OK, where is the next clue?”

  “I should have thought of it earlier. It’s got to be Diablo’s. That’s Spanish for the devil. It’s my favorite Mexican restaurant on the Strip.”

  “I passed it a few minutes ago. It’s just south of Liquid.”

  “That’s right, you did pass it. Too bad I’m not thinking or seeing straight. Turn around and head back there.”

  I said, “You want to go there now?”

  “Yes, well, what time is it?”

  “12:30.”

  “Diablo’s is open until two.”

  “Mel, you can’t go in there; you just said you can’t see.”

  “I’ll wait in the car. You go and look in the kitchen. I bet the clue is near the grill or stove. Rob wrote about it being hot in the cocina.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She answered, “What else can it be? It’s got to be Diablo’s. Let’s check it out before we go all the way to Henderson.”

  I was reluctant. She was drugged. I was tired. Mel sensed my anxiety.

  “Look, Stevie, we’ll leave after Diablo’s. Where are we?”

  “We’re in the parking lot of In and Out Burger.”

  “Diablo’s is less than a mile from here. I promise we’ll go after you find the clue. We can sleep at my place.”

  I smiled. She must have sensed my chagrin because she said, “I have a pull out bed. You can save some money on a room.”

  “OK, OK, let’s check out Diablo’s.”

  I started the car and worked my way back to The Strip. Five minutes later we were stopped at the traffic light in front of Diablo’s. It’s a two-story, modern-looking, brightly lit restaurant, with open-aired windows and doorways on both floors. The Mexican cantina was right in front of the Monte Carlo Casino. I turned left and drove into the casino’s parking garage. My temporarily blinded assistant stayed in the Mustang. I turned off the engine and pulled the keys out of the ignition. She said she’d sleep and made me promise to wake her when I got back. I agreed. I got out of the car and Mel locked the doors behind me.

  Diablo’s was still doing business at twenty minutes before one on that Saturday morning. Most of the hangers-on were at the bar. A table or two were finishing their very late dinners. I entered through the open doorway and wondered how I’d get into the restaurant’s kitchen. I mingled around the bar and looked for a waitress serving the remaining tables. The bar offered a wide variety of frozen Margaritas and it was the drink of choice for the crowd.

  I saw a waitress walking away from a table to the rear of the restaurant. She disappeared through swinging doors into what had to be the kitchen.

  I immediately went that way. No one stopped me.

  The kitchen stood quiet. The grills and ovens were turned off. At the very back I heard a dishwasher running. To my right, the waitress was filling a basket with chips. The view of her head was blocked by an overhead cabinet. I continued walking to the rear. I heard voices in the distance, over the roar of the dishwasher. Through a screened door I could see four men of Mexican ancestry in white uniforms on the loading dock speaking Spanish in a loud, jovial manner. I smelled cigarette smoke.

  I turned back. The waitress had disappeared again. The kitchen was empty. I began my search. I followed Mel’s idea and looked under, on and over all the hot surfaces. I started at ground level and worked my way up the walls and appliances.

  Two minutes later, on a shelf above the largest grill, I spotted the top half of a clear, plastic disk. I wondered how Rob was able to place the disk up there and why no one had seen it. Maybe he had been here at this time of night, too. Maybe last night after he left Pure. Why hadn’t someone else spotted the disk? Then, I realized why. I barely saw it and I’m six foot one. The kitchen staff I saw outside and the waitress were all six or more inches shorter than me; they never saw the disk. Rob knew only I would see it.

  I reached around the side of the grill, grabbed the disk and put it in my back pocket. As I started out I made one last pan of the kitchen. That’s when I spotted another disk, mounted high, above the oven, stuck to the wall with glue. That’s strange, a second clue; why?

  I walked to the oven and grabbed that disk, too. I’d read them both later, with Mel. As I started a third look around the kitchen, I heard the voices nearing the back door. I stopped my search and exited through the swinging doors back into the restaurant. I guess I was in the kitchen less than five minutes, but it seemed longer. It looked like the crowd had thinned some in that short time.

  I walked right out of Diablo’s and headed back to the parking garage. Off to my le
ft, at the curb, something caught my eye. It was a white sedan parked about one hundred feet away on the far side of the Monte Carlo’s entrance drive. The driver’s window was all the way down and an older, white-haired man looked out at me. Rob Nealy. I stopped walking. We made eye contact. His left arm rested on the door. Then, he lifted his arm, pretended his hand was a gun and pointed his index finger at me. He cracked off an imaginary shot from his first digit.

  He turned his head and the car zoomed away from the curb, south on Las Vegas Boulevard.

  I started breathing again and watched the car escape. By the time I ran to the curb the white car had turned a corner and was out of sight. My luck had ended.

  Harmony

  Melody was gone! The Mustang was unlocked. Her purse was on the floor partially tucked under the passenger’s front seat. It didn’t look like a struggle had occurred. I checked the trunk; my bag was still there. The car looked untouched.

  Maybe she came after me. Maybe she walked to Diablo’s. Not really believing that, I still backtracked all the way to the Mexican restaurant. There was no sign of her in or outside the place.

  Rob’s appearance and Mel’s disappearance seemed too much of a coincidence. Still, I needed to check out other possibilities. I returned to my Mustang, exited the Monte Carlo’s parking garage and drove back to Liquid. Mel’s car was still parked there. I took the keys out of her purse and checked out the Honda. Nothing looked odd.

  I had one more place to check. I drove to the Bellagio and parked in the garage. The Mustang’s clock showed 1:31 AM. I locked the car and walked to a lounge. Melody’s sister, Harmony, was still working. The lounge was nearly empty. One table had a couple leaning close together. The woman giggled at the man’s inaudible whispers.

  Harmony stood in profile at the end of the bar. The white lighting, her pale skin, and her black hair and dress made it seem as if I was seeing her in a black and white movie. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t recall.

  She didn’t notice me until I said, “Harmony, may I speak to you, it’s important.”

  She turned her head at my use of her first name and searched her short-term memory for why I looked familiar.