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Vegas, Lies, and Murder

Page 5

by Sibel Hodge


  The man dressed as Frank Sinatra looked over and smiled at Suzy. She glanced around to see who else was looking before throwing the vibrator in her bag with a growling sound. I think a little bit of steam escaped from her ears, too. She glared at me, scraped her chair back, stood up, and flounced out of the restaurant in a huff.

  ‘Ooops,’ I said. ‘I was only trying to help.’

  Without Suzy there, we ended up having a good laugh, which probably sounds really horrible, but her permanent bad mood was starting to annoy everyone. After our meal, Bonnie put a bowl of fortune cookies on our table.

  ‘Oooh, cool.’ Tia picked one up, unwrapped it, and cracked it open. She pulled out the fortune and read it aloud. ‘It says, “You will marry your lover”!’ She gave Hacker a shy smile.

  Mum cracked hers open. ‘It says, “Serious trouble will bypass you”.’ She glanced at Dad, who’d opened his. ‘What does yours say?’

  ‘“Your shoes will make you happy today”.’ Dad glanced down at his flip-flops with a curious look.

  I broke mine apart. ‘It says, “Your problem just got bigger”.’ I stared at it. ‘What the hell kind of fortune is that?’

  Chapter 5

  I stood in front of the mirror, twisting around, trying to get a good view of my wedding dress, smoothing it down over my skin. The only stupid mirror in our room was a miniscule twenty-five centimetres squared, and it was up high on the wall in the bathroom, so I couldn’t see everything. My hair was all done, and for once, the curly chestnut waves didn’t look as if I’d stuck my finger in a light socket. They were sleek and glossy rather than frizzy and uncontrollable, courtesy of a Brazilian blow-dry I’d had a week before. I thought Brazilians were only for the lady-garden department, so I’d been a tad worried when I’d booked it, but the treatment had tamed down my hair fabulously. My makeup was understated but brought out my eyes and full lips.

  ‘Does my dress look all right?’ I worriedly asked Tia, Mum, and Suzy.

  Mum’s hands clasped in front of her mouth as she blinked back tears. ‘It looks perfect.’

  ‘Dad’s dress looked amazing on you, but this one looks super fab, too,’ Tia said.

  ‘It does look very… pretty,’ Suzy said.

  What? A compliment from Suzy? Wow! She must’ve been at it with the vibrator last night. She almost cracked a smile, although maybe she was just passing wind.

  Tears sprang into my own eyes. ‘Do you think Brad will like it?’

  ‘He’ll love it.’ Mum poured champagne into glasses. ‘Here, let’s have a toast.’

  We clinked glasses, and I tried to fight the butterflies in my stomach. This was it. There was no going back. I’d dithered around for so long with a commitment phobia, but now I was really sure Brad and I were meant to be together. Nothing was going to stop us. We were really going to tie the knot in less than an hour!

  The phone rang then, and Mum picked it up. It was the receptionist, telling us the limo was waiting to whisk us off to the Chapel of Love.

  Tia’s phone signalled a text as we walked down the corridor. ‘It’s from Hacker. He says they’re already there.’

  We got into the limo, and Mum held my hand, looking at me with a proud smile on her face.

  ‘Is that a plastic volcano?’ Suzy stared out of the window at a hotel whizzing by. ‘How disgustingly tacky.’

  We pulled up outside the quaint little chapel that I’d only seen photos of online, and there was Elvis, hovering at the outer door. He had big sideburns, a ginormous wobbly black quiff, and a tight white sequinned jumpsuit. Apart from the fact that the Chapel of Love and this particular Elvis had rave reviews for their wedding packages, Elvis was actually the younger brother of Tyler Wilde, a soldier who used to be in the SAS with Brad and Hacker. After they’d all been flown out to handle a secret mission in Iraq, they’d arrived to find a shortage of weapons and equipment due to government cutbacks. During a recon, enemy snipers ambushed their unit. They should’ve been able to fight their way out, but because they didn’t have the right equipment, they were compromised. Tyler had died as a result, and because Brad was in command of their unit, he’d felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and responsibility. Brad had kept in touch with Elvis over the years and had also met their sister, Dana, at Tyler’s funeral. A performer and impersonator for many years, Elvis had taken advantage of the fact that his dad was American—his dual nationality meant it was easy for him to move from the UK to Vegas so he could get into the themed-wedding business. He was now considered one of the best in town, and because of their history together, Brad felt honoured to have Tyler’s brother marry us.

  Elvis had a beaming smile and a sweaty forehead. ‘Well, hello there, lil’ lady,’ he said in a very impressive Elvis impersonation. ‘I’m very pleased to finally meet you. Brad’s told me a lot about you over the years. But let’s talk and reminisce later. Right now, your “Big Hunk o’ Love” is ready to take you to the “Promised Land” and love you tender.’

  I grinned at his cheesy references to Elvis songs. This was going to be such a laugh. ‘Thank you. It’s a privilege to meet you, too.’

  He led us into a small waiting room that had a doorway in front. I could hear an Elvis song coming from behind the door that I guessed led to the actual chapel.

  ‘OK, ladies. Let’s not make a “Lonely Man” of your groom any longer. I’m going to check out the final arrangements inside. Then I’ll come back out, and my lovely assistant, Priscilla, will open up the doors. I’ll escort you to Brad with your trail of beautiful bridesmaids behind you while singing “Burning Love”. Feel free to dance up the aisle with me, if you like, or sing along.’ He winked at me.

  Mum and Tia grinned. Suzy stared at Elvis as if he were nuts.

  ‘You ready?’ Elvis asked.

  ‘Hell, yeah!’ I said.

  ‘It’s “Now or Never”, then, baby.’ He curled his lip up and down, Elvis style, and disappeared through the door.

  I glanced at Mum. The butterflies were ‘Rock-a-Hula’-ing inside me with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. A couple of minutes passed, and I shuffled from foot to foot, imagining Brad standing on the other side, looking super sexy in his suit.

  Mrs Amber Beckett. Mrs Amber Beckett. Yep, I definitely liked the sound of that. I’d even been practising my signature.

  Another couple of minutes passed.

  ‘What are they doing in there?’ Mum whispered.

  ‘They’d better hurry up before Amber changes her mind,’ Suzy said.

  ‘I’m not going to change my mind.’

  ‘With your on-again off-again relationship, I’m surprised it’s got this far to be—’

  A loud, sharp noise, like a crack, interrupted Suzy. Then a woman screamed behind the chapel doors. A man’s voice yelled ‘Argh! My foot!’, and I heard people running.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I burst through the doors, picking up the bottom of my dress, with the others hot on my heels.

  The chapel was empty, but the screams were coming from behind a wooden doorway off to the left. I shouldered the door open and found myself in an office. A blonde woman, who I presumed to be Priscilla, had her hands pressed to her cheeks, eyes bugging out, looking down at Elvis, who was rolling on the floor by a metal desk, clutching his foot and howling in agony.

  Brad and Hacker were nowhere to be seen.

  ‘What happening?’ I cried. ‘Where’s Brad?’

  Priscilla pointed to another doorway but seemed too shocked to speak. I burst through the door and outside into the sunshine. It opened up into a car park at the rear of the building. Brad, Hacker, and Dad were chasing after a car that was speeding out of the lot. I ran behind them then tripped on the hem of my dress, landing in a crumpled heap on the tarmac.

  By the time I got up, the car had gone, and Brad, Hacker, and Dad were rushing back towards me.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I cried.

  ‘Some guys just came in and shot Elvis in the foot.’ Brad shook his head, w
rapping an arm protectively around me and staring down the road.

  ‘What the…?’ I shrieked as Brad hurried us back inside. ‘What do you mean, SHOT?’

  Chapter 6

  Brad pulled open the door, and we were back in the small office, taking in the awful scene. Elvis was still on the floor, tears of pain streaming down his face, mixing in with the sweat.

  ‘Just hold still. I have to look at it,’ Suzy said. ‘I’m a doctor.’

  ‘You’re a psychiatrist,’ I said. ‘I think his problem’s at the other end. What the hell just happened?’

  She flashed me a glare and kneeled on the floor. She put Elvis’s loafer-covered foot in her lap and undid the laces.

  ‘Ouch! Ouch!’ Elvis yelped.

  ‘We need to call the police,’ Mum said, eyes wide.

  ‘No, no… ouch… no police!’ Elvis shrieked.

  ‘Did you see what happened?’ Brad asked Priscilla, whose face was a waxy shade of white.

  ‘Er… well… um… the… men… those… they… um…’ she managed to get out in between breaths.

  ‘Why don’t you sit down? You look a bit peaky.’ Mum guided her to a chair behind the desk. ‘Put your head between your legs. It will help you breathe.’ She pushed Priscilla’s head down gently. ‘Take some deep, slow breaths.’

  ‘Elvis, tell me what happened,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you want us to call the police? What’s going on?’ What I really wanted to ask was what on earth had ruined the wedding day I’d been dreaming about for months, but maybe that was a tad unsympathetic under the circumstances.

  Suzy pulled off Elvis’s shoe and gently wound his sock down. We all peered at it, expecting blood and gore and maybe a little bit of bone poking out, but it was just a small gash.

  ‘Ouch!’ he whimpered as Suzy examined it closely.

  ‘You’re lucky they were such a bad shot. It’s just a scratch,’ she said.

  ‘But look at my shoe! Look at it!’ Elvis squinted at his loafer on the floor. The toe section had been shot clean off. ‘It’s got a hole in it!’

  Suzy delved in her bag for some antiseptic wipes and started cleaning off the itty-bitty wound.

  I glanced at the shoe, which must’ve been a size ten, and then his foot, which was probably a size eight. ‘Do you always wear shoes two sizes too big?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He sniffed, wiping his eyes. ‘Elvis had big feet. I have to be authentic.’

  ‘Well, it looks like that just saved your arse,’ Brad said.

  ‘It’s his foot, not his arse,’ Suzy said.

  ‘It’s a metaphor,’ I said to her. ‘So, what happened?’ I asked Elvis again, a bit more impatiently this time.

  ‘These men came in while I was just doing one last check of the sound system in the office here.’ He jerked his head towards a large technical-looking box of equipment. ‘They were… ouch!’ Elvis shot a look at Suzy, who was now using a second wipe.

  ‘Don’t be such a wimp,’ Suzy said. ‘I’ve had worse paper cuts than that.’

  ‘Please spit it out, and tell us why some people shot up my wedding!’

  ‘They were after my sister, Dana. They wanted to know where she was.’

  ‘Was she supposed to be here?’ Dad asked. ‘Does she help you with the weddings?’

  ‘No. She works at a club called Polesque. That’s where those men were from. But she’s been living with me.’

  ‘Well, why would they try and shoot you just because they were looking for your sister?’ I asked. ‘And why don’t you want us to call the police?’

  ‘No police! They said she…’ He glanced around the room at us, biting his lip, a look of uncertainty on his face.

  ‘You need to tell us what happened,’ Brad said. ‘If you or Dana are in trouble, we can help you. What did they want with her?’

  ‘They said she stole something from them, and they wanted it back. I can’t report this in case… you know, in case she’s done something she’ll get in trouble for. I need to find out what’s going on first.’

  There was a loud thump as Priscilla slumped off the chair in a faint and hit the floor behind us.

  Tia pulled the chair away from her, and Mum put a cushion under her head.

  ‘I’ve got a fan in my bag.’ Suzy was a regular Girl Guide. She had everything in there. If there were a nuclear apocalypse, Suzy would be totally prepared.

  Tia rummaged in Suzy’s enormous bag, pulled out a Chinese-style fan, and began wafting it in Priscilla’s face.

  ‘What did she steal?’ Hacker asked.

  ‘I don’t know!’ Elvis ventured a look at his foot. He must have seen that it was indeed just a small gash because he sat up as Suzy gently pressed a tissue to it.

  ‘It must’ve been pretty important for them to shoot you,’ I said.

  Suzy took a roll of plaster from her bag and taped it over the folded tissue. She pulled up his sock carefully so it wouldn’t dislodge the makeshift dressing, furrowing her eyebrows in a concerned frown. Suzy being sympathetic was a whole new sight to me. If I hadn’t been so confused and stressed and frustrated, I might’ve said something sarcastic.

  ‘Wha… what happened?’ Priscilla came to, and Mum sat her up.

  ‘You fainted, dear. Are you OK?’

  Tia rushed to the water cooler and filled a plastic cup then kneeled down next to her and handed her the glass. ‘Here. This might help.’

  ‘Believe me, I don’t know what they want Dana for or why they shot me.’ Elvis touched his foot gingerly. ‘She’s just a dancer at the club. She hasn’t got a bad bone in her body. And I can’t believe she’d steal something from them. I…’ He rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I’m as confused as you are. I need to phone her—make sure she’s OK.’

  Dad helped him to his feet. Elvis’s legs and hands shook violently.

  ‘You’re in shock. Sit down again,’ Suzy ordered. She was back to being her usual brusque self again. I knew Sympathetic Suzy wouldn’t rear her head for long.

  Elvis slumped back to the floor. ‘I need my phone! I need to call her!’

  ‘Is this it?’ Hacker picked up a mobile from the desk.

  ‘Yeah.’ He took it from Hacker and punched in numbers with a quivering hand. Then he dropped it. ‘Sorry. I’m “All Shook Up”.’

  ‘Here, let me.’ Brad picked it up. ‘What’s her number?’

  Brad dialled as Elvis called out numbers. Brad handed the phone to him and Elvis pressed it to his ear.

  I looked at Brad. He looked at me. Part of me wanted to burst into tears. How could our wedding day be ruined by a sweaty Elvis and some thugs with a gun? It couldn’t be happening. I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips to my lids. No, it wasn’t happening. I’d just had far too many sinful strips the night before, and I was suffering from an alcohol-induced nightmare. That was it. Oh, wait a sec—I’d only actually had one due to Mr Grumpy keeping a close eye on our table. OK, so I’d been transported to a parallel universe, or I was in the Twilight Zone or something. I opened my eyes and looked around me, hoping that things had magically transported back to normal again.

  Nope, everything was just the same. Elvis was shot on the floor, and Brad was staring at me with concern, which meant this was really real. Shit!

  I rubbed at a throbbing that had started in my temples and inhaled a deep breath. Brad put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. I tried to raise a smile but I couldn’t muster one up.

  ‘Dana’s not answering,’ Elvis said, his voice laced with panic. ‘I’ve got to find her. I need to make sure those maniacs don’t shoot her, too.’ He put his hands on the desk and pulled himself up before anyone could stop him. He glanced at Brad and me. ‘I’m sorry, but the wedding’s off.’

  ‘Uh-oh.’ Tia glanced at me. ‘What are we going to do?’

  I sighed. I think a little tear did slip out at that point.

  ‘Elvis, you’re OK, aren’t you?’ Tia turned to me. ‘Why don’t you just find somewhere else to get married?’


  Brad put an arm around me and pulled me in close. His sexy, musky aftershave teased my nostrils. Right about then, we should’ve been man and wife, celebrating with happy smiles on our faces. But Tia was right. We still had another seven days in Vegas. The marriage license was all sorted. And there were hundreds of wedding chapels to choose from. We’d just have to postpone it a day or two until we found another venue.

  ‘Oh no. You won’t be able to get anyone else to marry you this week.’ Elvis shook his head. ‘The whole of Vegas is fully booked. There’s a wedding convention on. We’re trying to get in the record books for performing the largest number of weddings in one week.’

  ‘Double uh-oh,’ Tia said.

  I could think of a few more words to use, other than ‘double uh-oh’, but they weren’t pretty.

  ‘There must be somewhere we can get married,’ Brad said. ‘This is Vegas, wedding capital of the world.’

  ‘No. Sorry. We’ve been jam-packed ages in advance. I’m going to have to cancel my own bookings now until I find out what’s going on and make sure Dana’s safe, and I hate letting people down.’

  I ran a hand through my hair, no longer caring if I ruined it. ‘I don’t believe it.’ I felt like fainting then, too—either that or kicking someone. Possibly Elvis.

  ‘Are you sure you should go looking for your sister?’ Suzy asked, her usually expressionless face scrunched into a worried frown. ‘It could be dangerous. These men have got guns! They could shoot you again.’

  ‘Exactly. So, I have to find her before they do something to her, too.’ He wiped his wet cheeks. ‘Sorry about this, folks.’ He hit redial on his phone and listened to it ringing persistently before his sister’s voicemail kicked in again. He left a frantic message and hung up.

  Thunk! Priscilla hit the deck again. Out cold. Mum fanned her with fast sweeping motions.

  ‘Do you want us to call someone for you?’ Brad asked. ‘I know you don’t have any other family here, but is there a friend I can call or something?’

  ‘No.’ Elvis waved a hand around, his knees shaking. ‘There’s no one to call. I just… just have to find her.’ He picked up his car keys. Dropped them. Picked them up. Dropped them.

 

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