A wide smile crossed Nemo’s lips. “I am. But once the money is in Gene and Howard’s hands, they’ll be running the family business. Gene’s always had a hand in it. Howard is just now seeing its value.” He winked at her. “Maybe then I’ll rest in peace. I’ve earned it, don’t you think?”
“You deserve to rot in hell!” screamed Lenny.
“Lenny,” Emma said to the disturbed ghost, “why don’t you come back later. I’ve got this.”
Lenny wasn’t so sure, so Emma added, “See if you can find Granny. Tell her we’ve found the money and let her know this will be over soon.” She gave Lenny a knowing nod, hoping the slightly dim-witted ghost picked up on it.
“No need,” said Granny, materializing next to Phil. “I’m right here.”
“Granny,” Emma said with relief. “Glad you’re here. Nemo wants me to be his communicator with his sons. He tells me Laura isn’t working out.” She turned her head away from Nemo and looked at Granny, giving her a slow wink, hoping to convey she had a plan. Granny, unlike Lenny, was sharp as a tack and could hold her tongue when needed. “I’ve asked him to tell us where Dolly is so we can make the exchange.”
“But—” Lenny started. Before he could spill the beans about them already knowing about Dolan Springs, Granny scooted over to him.
“I know you’re upset, Lenny. But let Emma handle this. She’s dealt with snakes in the spirit world before.” Granny gave Nemo the stink eye, which only made him laugh.
“You really need better help, Emma,” the old hood said. “Stick with me and my boys and you’ll be able to do amazing things with amazing people. Much more exciting than that little cable show you have and this relic of a sidekick.”
Granny crossed her arms and growled at Nemo.
“What’s going on, Emma?” asked Phil.
“Nemo just offered me a job,” she said, not taking her eyes off the ghost. “And offended Granny.”
“And,” Nemo continued, “you’ll meet men more worthy of your beauty and talents.”
“And he just offended you,” she said to Phil.
Phil stepped forward and pointed at himself with the hand not holding the shovel. “Me?”
“Well, both you and Quinn,” she answered with a small smile. Quinn straightened up and stood shoulder to shoulder with Phil.
Granny fumed at Nemo. “Both of those men are honest and decent and dignified. Something you know nothing about.”
“Simmer down, Granny,” Emma said. “They’re big boys, they can take it.”
“If you’re through posturing, Nemo,” Emma told the ghost, “let’s get back to business. The money in exchange for Laura and Dolly and they must be unharmed. Just tell us where.”
“Call Gene,” Nemo finally said after a few seconds’ thought. “He’ll set up the meeting.”
“I have his number.”
“Not his office,” said the ghost. “Call his cell.”
Emma pulled her phone out of her pocket. As Nemo gave her the number, she punched in the digits to save for later. Done, she looked at Nemo. “And what if he doesn’t believe we’ve had this little chat? Maybe he’ll think it’s a setup.”
A slow, oily smile leaked out of Nemo’s face. “You are so smart, Emma. Always thinking of everything.” Nemo paused, then said, “Tell Gene you want waffles for dinner.”
“Waffles for dinner?”
“That’s what I said.” And Nemo disappeared.
• CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX •
“WAFFLES for dinner?” Phil swiped an arm across this sweaty forehead. Even though the sun was still low, it was growing warmer in the desert. “What in the hell was that about?”
“Some sort of code,” Emma explained. “Probably a family joke. I’m supposed to say it to Gene Garby so he’ll know I’ve spoken to Nemo.”
Emma looked around. Besides Granny and Lenny, she spotted another ghost standing several yards off from them. The spirit was difficult to make out at first in the growing light, then slowly it came into focus. It was the ghost of an old man with long hair and a beard; he was dressed in dirty old work clothes.
“Who do you suppose that is?” asked Granny.
“I’m betting that’s Jasper Jenkins, Granny. The man who lived in this shack many years ago. We were told he once worked on the Boulder Dam.” Emma gave the ghost a friendly wave. Phil and Quinn looked off in the same direction but saw nothing, something they were used to.
“Mr. Jenkins,” Phil said, saluting the ghost he couldn’t see. “Hello.” Quinn followed suit and waved in the same direction.
“We’ve come in peace, Mr. Jenkins,” Emma told the ghost. “We’re taking something that belongs to someone else, but not disturbing your home. I hope that’s all right.”
The ghost gave them a single solemn nod, then disappeared.
“He’s gone now,” Emma told the men. “Let’s get the box to the Jeep and cool off, especially you Phil. Neither of you brought hats.”
“Yeah,” Phil said. “I miss my cowboy hat. Didn’t think I’d need it in Vegas.” He laughed. “Who knew I’d end up digging around in the desert.” Pulling off a glove, he retrieved a handkerchief from a pocket and swiped it over his bald head. “Can’t imagine what it’s like out here in the middle of the day and it’s not even June. Much hotter than the high desert at home, I’m sure.”
“I also brought a small case of water,” said Quinn as he lifted the box for transport to the Jeep.
“You need a hand with that?” Phil offered.
“Nah, it’s not that heavy, just bulky. But grab my shovel and get the hatch, will ya?”
The three of them, along with Granny and Lenny, made their way around the shack back to the Jeep, where Quinn stashed the metal box in the back. He took off his own gloves, grabbed bottles of water, and passed them around. After taking a big drink, Phil doused his handkerchief with water and mopped his head, face, and neck. Quinn grabbed a small towel from the backpack and did the same.
“You even bought a towel?” Phil asked. “I’m impressed.”
“It’s a hand towel I grabbed from the hotel. You just never know. I have a couple of others here, too, if you want one.” He handed one to Phil.
Emma smiled to herself as she watched the two interact, knowing Phil was making a huge effort to put aside his natural instinct to compete with Quinn for the female of the species.
After stashing the equipment in the back of the Jeep with the box, Quinn asked, “Now what? Call Gene and set up a meeting? Or head to Dolan Springs?”
Not wanting to say too much in front of Lenny, Emma turned to him. “Lenny, why don’t you rest and recharge. We might need you later.”
“But I need to help Doll.”
“And you did by showing us where the money is,” Emma assured him. “Right now we need to think about our next move. Why don’t you try to connect back with me later? Or why don’t you try to connect with Dolly and keep her company?”
“I’ve tried,” Lenny said with frustration. “I just can’t seem to locate her like Granny can. I only seem to find you and Doll’s house.”
Emma wasn’t surprised. She’d learned long ago that most ghosts never develop keen instincts like Granny. As much as they try, they are very limited to who they can contact and where they show up. It’s another reason why ghosts tend to haunt specific places. Sometimes they choose to remain in one place; other times it’s their individual limitations that keep them bound to certain people and locations. Emma had a theory that it was relative to their intelligence when they were alive. Not education, but raw intelligence and the ability to think and concentrate. Lenny seemed well intentioned but definitely not overly bright, which surprised Emma, considering Milo’s considerable intelligence. Nemo, on the other hand, was very smart and quick. Although just a baby ghost, he managed to make contact with her almost at will. Emma reminded herself to be careful about that.
“Why don’t you go back to Dolly’s, then,” she suggested to Lenny, “and keep Milo
and Tracy company. Milo’s your son and needs comforting. I’m sure with some effort the two of you can communicate. Wouldn’t you like that?”
Lenny nodded. “Yes. I would. I’d like to ask his forgiveness.” He looked at Emma with deep sadness. “Do you think he can forgive me for everything?”
“Milo is a very kind and open-minded man,” Emma said with an encouraging smile. “I think he will.”
As soon as Lenny was gone, Emma turned to Granny. “Nemo seems adept already at being a spirit. I’m worried about him popping up when we’re making our plans and overhearing.”
“He has caught on quickly,” Granny agreed. “But he doesn’t seem to be able to control how long he stays. He uses up a lot of his energy quickly with all his gabbing and posturing.”
Emma laughed. “He is quite a blowhard, isn’t he?”
“Back at the house, he’ll pop in, fade, pop in, fade. It takes him several tries before he sticks it. I think that’s one of the reasons Laura is having so much trouble communicating. He sticks it better with you. I think that’s because your energy is strong and keeps him grounded longer.”
Emma pulled out her phone again and texted Milo.
“Who are you texting?” asked Phil. While Emma and Granny talked, he and Quinn had taken a seat on the edge of the Jeep’s open hatch, drunk their water, and tried to keep up with Emma’s half of the conversation.
“Milo. I just sent Lenny back to Dolly’s to try to connect with him. I want Milo to know that so he’ll try to make the contact. A little father-son bonding wouldn’t hurt either of them, and it’ll keep Lenny out of our hair.”
“As well as keep Milo out of things?” asked Quinn.
She kept typing. “Yes, at least for the time being. I’m also letting Milo know we have the money and are trying to make the exchange.”
“When you’re done gabbing on that contraption,” Granny said to Emma, “let me know what I can do.”
Emma finished her text to Milo and turned to the ghost. “Continue to watch Dolly and Laura. If anything happens, find me. The three of us need to make a plan.”
“Okay,” Granny said, “but I’m staying away from Laura. She started babbling to me last night. I’m worried she might blow my cover.”
“Use your best judgment, but stay close and let me know if you learn anything important. I’m hoping we can set up the exchange early today and get this over with.”
“Gotcha.” Granny disappeared.
“And what about us?” asked Quinn. “What are our marching orders?”
Emma started for the passenger door. “I say we head back to that casino. I need to use the ladies’ room, and I’m not about to squat in the desert with a modern facility so close by.”
• • •
BY THE TIME Emma came out of the ladies’ room, she was ready to face whatever was thrown her way. She’d freshened up, even applying a little lipstick. As soon as they arrived at the casino, all three of them had ducked into the public restrooms, agreeing to meet afterward in the twenty-four-hour restaurant. Phil and Quinn were already seated when she came out. Mugs of hot coffee and glasses of orange juice were already on the table.
“Did you order my omelet?” she asked Phil as soon as she was seated.
“They didn’t have a veggie one,” he reported, “so I ordered you an omelet with tomatoes and mushrooms and no cheese. Sound good? And I asked for fruit instead of hash browns.”
“Perfect. I’m starving.” She took a sip of her juice. Before she could take another, the food was served and they fell upon it like a pack of hungry wolves, not stopping to talk until they were half done.
Quinn spoke first. “When I mentioned grabbing breakfast when we got here, I was afraid you’d toss me another protein bar.” He cut another bite of his steak and eggs before pointing his fork at Emma. “If you had, I might have dumped you and driven off.”
“Not without me you wouldn’t have,” added Phil, taking a bite of his ham steak. Emma eyed Phil’s plate. “I know, I know,” he said after swallowing. “Ham and whole real eggs.” He jerked his chin at Quinn. “What can I say, he’s a bad influence.” He cut another piece of ham. “My cholesterol and sodium are spiking with every delicious bite.”
Quinn laughed. “I may eat what I like, but I don’t have a woman who cares enough about me to bitch about it. Eating sprouts and tofu is a small price to pay, I’d say.”
“She has yet to shove tofu down my throat,” answered Phil, sawing off another big bite of the grilled ham.
“Not that you know of,” said Emma, giving Phil a sly look as she took a bite of toast. She was very pleased. Not only was Phil becoming more relaxed around Quinn, but they seemed to be forming a genuine friendship.
After a few more bites, Phil pushed aside his plate. “Quinn and I were talking. What’s to stop Nemo from double-crossing you and killing off Dolly and Laura anyway? You should make sure they are at the exchange.”
“I was wondering that myself,” Emma said, looking down at her half-eaten omelet.
“Since we all know about the Garbys and Frankie,” Quinn pointed out, “we’re also sitting targets. The Garbys aren’t going to let any of us walk away, knowing what we know.”
With her fork, Emma played with a small pile of chopped tomatoes. “It’s a major concern.” She looked up at the men. “But the Garbys don’t know we know about them. Or about Frankie. As far as Detective Garby knows, we’re concerned about Dolly and claim to have met Lenny Speidel’s ghost. There’s no way he or his brother can know we’re on to them being Nemo’s sons or involved in this.” She took a drink of coffee before continuing. “They can’t talk to Nemo directly, and it sounds like Laura isn’t being much help. Nemo knows what we know, but he can’t convey that to his sons and their hired goons.”
“But if you call Gene Garby, then he’ll know.” Quinn leaned back in his chair. “Only that Gloria Youngblood knows we know, and I doubt she’ll talk to anyone.”
“Exactly,” confirmed Emma. “If I make that call to set up the exchange, it will tip the Garbys off to what I know, especially if I give them that code phrase.”
“Sounds like we’re holding the better card hand at the moment.” Phil snatched a strawberry from Emma’s fruit bowl and popped it into his mouth. “They want the money. We want the hostages. They don’t know we have the money. And Nemo can’t tell them or give them the order to kill the women. The only fly in the ointment is if the Garbys get restless and kill them anyway because they know too much.”
Emma looked at her watch. “It’s almost seven thirty. Do you think it’s too late to storm Dolan Springs?”
“It’ll take an hour to get there,” answered Quinn. “But it couldn’t hurt to drive out there and see if we can find that mobile home.”
Emma dabbed her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m also wondering if it’s time to bring in John Foster. Nemo told me he’s not a part of this.”
Phil wasn’t so sure. “But he might have his own agenda, considering his personal connection.”
“True, but I think we’re at a point where we need help.” She looked at Quinn. He stared at her a moment, then nodded his agreement.
She turned to Phil. He sighed and said, “You might be right. We can’t go up against armed criminals with just a couple of shovels and a Taser. It would be suicide. Just be careful what you tell him.”
Emma pulled out her cell phone and Detective Foster’s card and placed the call to his cell phone. “Hi,” she said when he answered. “It’s Emma Whitecastle. I think I know where Dolly Meskiel is being held.” She listened, then said, “No, don’t call Howard Garby. I have reason to believe he’s involved. Don’t call anyone.” Pause. “Yes, that’s right. I’m asking you to trust me on this, Detective. I also know you’re related to the people who once owned the Lucky Buck Casino, so while you’re trusting me, I’ll have to trust you. Meet me, but come alone and not in a police car.” Emma told him where she was. “I’m out here following up on a tip fro
m a spirit.”
“I noticed you didn’t say we in that conversation,” said Quinn after she ended the call.
“I don’t want him to know you two are with me. I’ll initially meet him alone while you make sure he didn’t bring company. Once it’s clear, we can all get together.”
“It’s going to take him at least thirty minutes to get here, maybe longer,” Quinn noted. He caught the attention of the waitress and waved his coffee mug at her. She came over and refilled all their mugs.
Emma held her warm mug and chuckled. “This is exactly the type of cloak-and-dagger stuff Granny loves. Too bad she’s not here.”
“Can you contact her?” asked Quinn.
“I’ll try.” Emma put down her coffee, closed her eyes, and concentrated. In seconds she forgot about where she was. The coffee shop ceased to exist as she floated, at peace and carefree.
I must be tired and falling asleep, she thought, but didn’t do anything to shake herself out of it. She went from floating to standing in the middle of a street. She didn’t know how she got there. It didn’t feel like she’d been dropped. One minute she was light and airy, and the next on solid ground standing in the middle of a narrow street in the desert. In front of her was a small house. No, it wasn’t a house. It was a mobile home. An old double-wide, white with green shutters, with rust along its edges. Parked parallel to the street in front of the trailer was an old black pickup truck. Emma moved to her right to study the side of the trailer partially blocked by the tail of the truck. Near the back, she spotted a set of weathered wooden steps that led from the ground up to a door. Moving to the other side of the trailer, she took note of a silver Honda Accord parked in a carport under a canopy. Off to the left of the back of the carport was a small shed, or more of a lean-to, under which lidded garbage cans were kept. Another set of steps lead from the carport up to the mobile home. There was no sight of anyone, not driving on the street or stirring on foot. She looked around and saw no homes, mobile or otherwise nearby, except for a single structure far down the road on the left.
4 Ghost of a Gamble Page 20