Zombie Cash Run in Las Vegas: A Lighthearted Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 12)

by A. R. Winters

  A chill ran down my spine. Kyle really seemed to believe that he had a great life, and a great job.

  I knew that Brenna had been telling the truth. Kyle hadn't written that first book he'd published–he'd somehow stolen it from her father.

  Ian said, "Didn't Jake tell us that his father died when they were little? That he was eight, and Brenna was eleven?"

  I nodded. "Jake wouldn't remember if his father had been writing anything, but Brenna might've."

  Carol said, "Even if this is true, Kyle might not have anything to do with Brenna's death at all."

  There was an undercurrent of hesitation in her voice, and I knew that all of us were thinking the same thing.

  If Kyle had been really desperate about protecting his reputation and his career, there was no way he'd admit to having stolen his bestseller. If he was so desperate to protect his reputation, what lengths would he go to?

  Chapter 31

  Ian and I were shocked by Carol's revelations, but I had a hard time believing that Kyle, the nice, helpful man who had insisted that Dave hired us to investigate Brenna's murder, could have been involved in something that actually led to her death.

  "Carol might not have been telling us the truth herself," Ian said. "She hates Kyle, and she might have even made the whole thing up. And who knows, maybe Kyle and Brenna's relationship wasn't professional? Maybe it was romantic, and Carol hid that from us. What if she was actually the one involved in Brenna's death?"

  "You’re right. We can't rule that possibility out."

  "Carol could’ve driven or flown down to Vegas that day, snuck in through the back entrance, and then headed back to LA. No one would have known, and no one would even suspect her."

  "I should have asked for her alibi. But I can always call and ask."

  "Maybe you don't need to ask," Ian said. "Didn’t she mention that she works most days at the Blue Lagoon Café? You could just call up the manager, and check if she had a shift that day."

  I nodded. "And perhaps we should tell Dave all this."

  "I'm not sure Dave needs to know yet, but maybe you should tell Ryan?"

  I scrunched up my mouth and nose in a lighthearted grimace, but I knew that Ian was right.

  By the time we landed and got back to our apartments, it was past midnight. I didn't want to wake Ryan by calling him, so instead, I sent him a text asking him to give me a call the next morning.

  The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of my phone ringing. The caller ID showed that it was Ryan, and I answered groggily. "What time is it?"

  "It's six," he said. "Is everything okay?"

  I groaned. "Yeah, it's all fine. How are you?"

  "Busy," Ryan said. "In addition to this case, I've now been put on a missing person’s case. I think I'm going to spend most of today talking to people related to the missing person’s case issue, instead of investing Brenna’s murder."

  I yawned loudly and stretched. "I had a busy day yesterday. And I found out something interesting–it might not be true, though. Apparently, Kyle Chandlers didn't write the first book he published. He stole it from Brenna's dad. His ex-girlfriend, Carol, claims that Brenna tried to talk to Kyle about that. They worked together on another reality TV show about nine months ago, Ready, Aim, Cook."

  "We'll look into that," Ryan said. "But right now, our main suspect is Bruce. We think he might not be telling the whole truth about his relationship with Brenna. We haven't arrested him, but we’re keeping an eye on him."

  "Maybe I should go talk to him again."

  "Please don't. The more you talk to suspects, the more the case gets muddled for us. Pretty soon, you’ll officially have crossed the line into obstructing a police investigation."

  I scowled, but I didn't say anything. It was my job to investigate, and if I let things slide by, then I wouldn't be doing my job properly. I wasn't really obstructing an investigation; there was no law against people talking to other people. It's not like I was tampering with a crime scene, or trying to obtain evidence that I didn't have access to.

  But I didn't say any of that. Instead, I said, "I can't promise that. You know it's my job to talk to people."

  Ryan said lightly, "Sometimes, I wish you had a different job."

  "Well, I don't. I like being a PI."

  I heard the smile in his voice. "We’ll just have to work around it. How did you find out about Kyle and Brenna? That’s an odd rumor.”

  "It is a rumor," I admitted. "But Ian and I will try to find out if it's true. We'll talk to Kyle later today."

  "I don't want you bothering him at his hotel room. The police need to talk to him too, and I don't want you getting his back up."

  "You can't just asked me not to go to his hotel room. We've sort of made an appointment."

  "Then cancel it."

  "What if he wants to come by to talk to us?"

  "I can't do anything about that, but I'd like you to talk to me before you have a chat with Kyle. If this rumor about him and Brenna is true, he could be dangerous. I don't want you getting into trouble."

  I rolled my eyes, but before I could say anything, Ryan said, "And the same goes for Bruce. I can't stop you from talking to him, but I’m pretty sure he’s dangerous. If you do go to talk to him, let me know where you're going."

  "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "But I don't want you worrying about me. You know I can take care of myself."

  "I know," Ryan said. "But that doesn't stop me from worrying."

  Ian and I had a quick breakfast in my apartment–croissants that Ian had purchased from a bakery earlier in the morning, and mugs of steaming hot instant coffee.

  We discussed the case, and then I called the manager of the Blue Lagoon Café, and introduced myself. He confirmed that on the day of Brenna's death, Carol had been working at the café, and she hadn't taken any extra days off recently.

  I wasn't sure whether I felt relieved or disappointment when I hung up the phone.

  I filled Ian in on what I'd learned, and he said, "So Carol was probably telling us the truth about Kyle and Brenna. We’ve still got no way of proving it."

  "I think we should talk to Jake," I said. "He was young when his father died, but he might know something. At the very least, he might know if his father had tried to publish any books."

  As soon as we finished our breakfasts, Ian and I headed over to Jake's house again.

  Jake was home, and he seemed surprised to see us again.

  "I thought the cops had found someone," he said. "That Detective Ryan told me that someone named Bruce might’ve been blackmailing Brenna. He asked me if I'd ever heard Brenna mention him–but I hadn't."

  "It's true that the cameraman might have had something to do with it, but we don't know that. We're here because we'd like to ask you about your father."

  Jake's eyes widened slightly. "Dad? To be honest, I don't remember much about him. Just a few bits and pieces. And I'm not sure what it's got to do with Brenna."

  "I never asked what your father did."

  "He was a lab assistant at the local high school. He liked science, but he wasn't a very careeristic person. He just like messing about with science, and telling us funny stories about what could happen if science experiments went wrong."

  "Do you know if he actually wrote any of those stories down? Like, if he ever tried to publish a book?"

  Jake frowned. "You know, Brenna asked me the same thing a while back. If I remembered anything about Dad publishing a book. But I didn't."

  "Did Brenna say anything else?"

  Jake nodded. "She told me that dad had written an entire novel. And that the manuscript had gone missing."

  My heart pounded loudly. So this really was the missing piece. "Why did she suddenly remember that after all these years?"

  "Our Aunt Sally, Dad’s sister, lives in the UK. She came to visit us about a year or so ago, and I think she was the one who mentioned it. And then Brenna said that she thought she remembered Dad having written something
, but we didn't know for sure. I think Brenna may have even made a few phone calls to the neighbors. Brenna liked reading, and I think she liked the idea of a dad being a writer. He passed away so long ago, she's got more memories of him, but I think she was trying to hold onto something."

  "But still, chances are that your dad did actually write a book. And it was never published."

  Jake nodded. "I'm still not sure what this has got to do with Brenna's death."

  I took a deep breath. "I'm not sure either," I forced myself to say. I didn't want to accuse Kyle unjustly, or speculate about what might have happened. "But we're looking into all kinds of possibilities."

  Chapter 32

  As Ian and I headed home, I wasn't sure what to do about our meeting with Kyle.

  I didn't like having to stay out of the way for police investigations, and I called Ryan to ask him if it would be okay to have a quick chat with Kyle. But my call went straight to voicemail, and I decided that it would probably be better to avoid going to Kyle's hotel room.

  So once we got back to my apartment, I called Kyle, and said that we wouldn't be able to come over today.

  "That's a shame," Kyle said. "I was looking forward to talking to you two. Have you learned anything new?"

  "We have," I said. "But the police don't want us talking to you before–" I stopped myself just in time, preventing myself from saying before they've talked to you first.

  "Are you and Ian busy?" Kyle said. "Is that why you can't come over?"

  "Kyle's kitten, Snowflake, isn't feeling all that well," I fibbed. "We thought we should stay home with her."

  "I can come by your place," Kyle said. "It won't be a problem for me–I don't have much to do today. What's your address?"

  I reeled off my address, telling myself that Ryan had said that if Kyle wanted to come and see us, that would be okay.

  "I'll head over there now," Kyle said. "It's really close to where I'm staying, and then maybe afterward I'll head over to visit one of my friends who’s staying near Lake Las Vegas."

  I hung up and shrugged at Ian. "Ryan didn't say not to talk to him at all."

  "But he did say to let him know if you’ll be talking to Bruce or Kyle."

  I nodded, and sent off a quick text to Ryan to let him know that Kyle was coming over to my apartment.

  Ian brought Snowflake over, along with one of her toys, a wind-up mouse that she enjoyed chasing. We watched her play, and we chatted about how cute she was for a few minutes. I didn't think that Kyle would be convinced that Snowflake wasn't feeling well, but by the time he came over, Snowflake had tired herself out, and gone to have a nap on top of the fridge.

  Kyle showed up wearing jeans and a dark blazer, which looked like overkill for a day out in Vegas. But he was also carrying a box of chocolate cupcakes, so I could ignore his fashion faux pas.

  “These showed up this morning,” Kyle said. “They were delivered to my room, and I didn’t want to eat them all alone.”

  Ian and I grinned, and Ian said, “That’s nice of you. Everyone keeps telling their kids to be share, but as adults they forget to.”

  "I really am glad you came," I said, taking the cupcakes out of the box and placing them on a plate. "Would you like some coffee?"

  "I'm trying to switch from coffee to tea. You don't have any tea, do you?"

  "Nanna gave me some Earl Grey tea bags as a gift," I said. "Why don't I make us each a mug, and then we can have a chat?"

  A few minutes later, we were all sitting around the coffee table, helping ourselves to the cupcakes.

  “Who sent you these cupcakes?” Ian said, as he placed one on his plate. “They look delicious!”

  “They’re actually from one of my exes, Carol,” said Kyle, taking a big bite of his cupcake. “It was a nice surprise, she sent a note with it saying she hoped I got everything I deserved. It’s nice when one of your exes finally moves on and wishes you well.”

  My heart lurched, and I locked eyes with Ian. I hadn’t taken a bit of my cupcake yet, and I wasn’t sure I would. What was Carol up to?

  I placed my plate on the coffee table and sipped my tea instead, and I noticed that Ian did the same. As Kyle munched on his cupcake and sipped on his tea, the three of us chatted about Hollywood gossip, and Kyle regaled us with tales of Hollywood divas, and stars throwing tantrums.

  "Why didn't that cooking reality show work out?" Ian said.

  Kyle had finished his first cupcake by now, and was halfway through his second.

  Ian and I sipped on our teas, and took tiny mouse nibbles from our cupcakes. I thought my cupcake tasted delicious—but I was a little worried that Carol, the woman who hated Kyle, was the one who’d sent them over.

  "Sometimes you can't predict things like that." Kyle took a thoughtful sip of his tea. "That show wouldn't have been too bad. But I think it wasn't competitive enough–every reality TV show has a formula these days. You need some people that viewers love to hate, and I think there weren't enough mean contestants on the show."

  "And what about Brenna?" I said. "Why do you think she didn't make it past the first round of the show?"

  Kyle blinked at me. "Brenna?"

  I nodded. "She was on that show."

  Kyle smiled apologetically. "I wasn't present at all the shootings. I'm afraid I can't remember her."

  "She went up to you on the set," I said persistently. "You two had a chat."

  Kyle shook his head. “I still don't remember her."

  His denial was getting annoying.

  "We were told she went to your house in The Hills that night. That you two had a chat standing outside your door."

  The color drained out of Kyle's face, and he slowly put his mug of tea down on the coffee table.

  His gaze was hard to read, and he pressed his lips together and stared at me. Finally, he said, "Now that you mention it, I remember what happened. She did stop by my house. I'd forgotten it was the same girl on this show, Brenna."

  I didn't believe him. Ian and I exchanged a glance, and I could tell that Ian was thinking the same thing–something had happened between Kyle and Brenna, and he was trying his best to hide it.

  "Well," I said slowly, "it's a good thing you're starting to remember now. Do you remember why she wanted to talk to you?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  "Let me jog your memory," Ian said. "Brenna's dad had written a book. Brenna said that you stole the manuscript, and published it under your name after her dad had died."

  A red flush was beginning to creep up Kyle's cheeks.

  "Yes," he said slowly. "I remember that now. I don't know why she was accusing me of things like that. That's absolute slander! I could've sued her."

  "And yet you didn't."

  Kyle shrugged. "I wanted to move past it. I thought she was just a very disturbed young woman, and I wanted her to leave me alone."

  "And yet she didn't," I said. "She followed you. She thought she'd hear back from Carol, but when she didn't, she followed you on to the set of your next show. She got selected somehow, and she was determined to track you down. If she couldn’t do it through a show, she would have stalked you at your house, or in LA."

  Kyle pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Some people are just… deranged."

  "And some people are thieves."

  I looked at him steadily, but Kyle refused to meet my gaze. "We have proof that you stole Brenna's dad's manuscript. We went and talked to Jake, and he said that Brenna had found a copy of the old manuscript. There are witnesses–you really did steal that manuscript."

  It was a stab in the dark, but suddenly, Kyle's eyes flashed with anger, and he glared at me. "That's not true! I wrote the damn thing myself, and I deserve every bit of success that I've got."

  "But you can't deny the proof," I went on. I realized he hadn't denied the bit about a manuscript existing. "You can't deny the truth. The original manuscript is still out there, and so are the people who saw Brenna's dad writing it, like her aunt, and a c
ouple of the neighbors. Brenna wasn't going to let you get away with this, now that she was old enough to have learned the truth, and to have talked to people who remembered him writing the book. She was going to hunt you down, and she was going to make you admit the truth."

  Kyle stood up shakily. "I don't have to sit here and listen to this abuse."

  Ian and I rose along with him.

  “No, you don’t,” I agreed. “But now that we know, the cops are going to find out, and everyone will know soon enough.”

  Something glimmered in Kyle’s eyes. “The cops don’t know yet?”

  I stared back at him. “No. but they will, as soon as I have a chat with them.”

  “I’d better make sure you don’t talk to them, then.”

  “How would y—”

  Kyle reached inside his jacket, and pulled out a small but deadly-looking gun.

  I stared at the barrel. “You’re not—you’re kidding, right?”

  “No,” said Kyle. “The mistake was not doing this sooner.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

  Ian and I took small steps backward ‘til we were pressed against the sofa. My heart raced wildly, and my breath came in short spurts.

  Kyle laughed.

  His face changed from that of a charming, mild-mannered man to that of an angry maniac. “What’s not to understand? I’m going to do whatever I need, to get you out of my way.”

  “You can’t kill us!”

  “That’s what I thought about Brenna. But it worked out. I don’t see why I shouldn’t just get rid of you two.”

  “No!” I said quickly. “Don’t shoot!”

  “Why not?”

  I had to think fast. “The apartment will be a mess. Ballistics will have an easy time tracking you down.”