High Stakes and Hazelnut Cupcakes in Las Vegas

by A. R. Winters

  “Yes.”

  “He’s in a meeting—he should be out in five minutes.”

  I pulled out a chair opposite Elwood’s desk and sat down, smiling brightly. “That’s okay, we can wait. And we can chat with you while we wait.”

  Elwood didn’t seem too thrilled by the prospect of talking to us for five entire minutes, and once again, his eyes slid over to the box that Ian was holding. “I’m kind of busy.”

  “Ian has something for you—he baked a big batch of hazelnut cupcakes, and they’re delicious!”

  Elwood looked at us in surprise and reached forward for the box.

  He glanced around furtively, made sure no one was watching him, and opened the box to extract a single cupcake. Quickly, he closed the box again and hid it in one of his desk drawers.

  “I’m not keen on sharing cupcakes,” he said before he bit into the cupcake and made a face that conveyed his pure joy at discovering its delicious, sweet, chocolatey-nutty flavors.

  “I can sympathize with you there,” I said. “I don’t like sharing cupcakes either.”

  But Elwood was clearly not listening to a word I was saying, and I gave him a few minutes to finish gobbling up the yummy cupcake.

  Finally, after he’d finished eating and had brushed the crumbs off his face, Elwood looked at me again. “I guess I am glad you stopped by today, after all.”

  I nodded seriously. “I know how much a good cupcake can improve your day.”

  Elwood narrowed his eyes and looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds. “I met an interesting man yesterday. Eli Cohen.”

  “Oh?” I feigned surprise, even though I knew all about Eli’s visit. “What happened?”

  “It turns out,” said Elwood slowly, “this Eli person used to work for the CIA. He says he used to work with your friend Stone, and now he’s trying to track him down.”

  I made sure to put on my best poker face. “That’s interesting.”

  “Of course, I haven’t got a clue as to where Stone is these days. I haven’t seen him for a while—have you?”

  “I’m in the dark,” I said. “What else did this Eli person say?”

  “Not much. Just asked if I might know any of Stone’s associates or friends. I mentioned you, of course.”

  I nodded. “Eli came by to my apartment, asking about Stone. I told him the same thing you did—that I didn’t know where Stone is.”

  Elwood looked at me seriously. “You know, I’ve never liked Stone. Something about that man seems off. I’ve told you this before.”

  “Yes. But I don’t believe that. I think Stone’s a good person.”

  Elwood shook his head. “I’m not so sure. I think the man’s trouble.”

  I shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

  Eli shook his head again. “That’s not what I meant. I’m worried about you—I don’t want you to get into some kind of trouble.”

  I looked at Elwood and smiled, feeling an unexpected rush of goodwill towards him.

  “You don’t need to worry about me,” I said gently. “You know I can take care of myself.”

  Elwood nodded. “Of course, I’m just telling you what I think. If the CIA is after Stone, that’s not a good sign.”

  “Eli isn’t with the CIA anymore. He just used to be.”

  “Still…”

  I spotted Ryan out of the corner of my eye and waved to him before turning to Elwood again. “I appreciate your concern, and I’m glad you told me that Eli came to visit you. But you don’t need to worry about me, really.”

  Elwood nodded and went back to his paperwork, and Ian and I headed over to Ryan’s desk.

  Ryan said hello to Ian and then turned to me with a smile. “I sense this isn’t a romantic meeting.”

  I shook my head sadly. “We were hoping…”

  For a moment, words failed me. I pulled the envelope out of my bag and placed it on Ryan’s desk. “You need to wear gloves to touch this.”

  Ryan stared at me somberly. “What’s going on?”

  I didn’t quite know where to start.

  “Someone sent Tiffany a threatening message,” said Ian, sensing my hesitation. “We were hoping you could run fingerprint analysis on it.”

  Ryan fished in his drawer, found a pair of gloves that he pulled on, and picked up the envelope. He took a few long seconds to read through the note and stare at the photograph, and then he turned to look at me. “This is serious.”

  I smiled wryly. “Ian said it might be some kind of prank.”

  Ryan shook his head. “This person means business. Perhaps you could do as they suggest and stop investigating?”

  I looked at him, aghast. “I could never do that. Then I’d get a reputation as a PI who backs down on threats, and I’d never get anywhere with any investigation again.”

  Ryan shook his head again, clearly unhappy with my answer. “Maybe you could make an exception for this case. I really don’t like this photograph.”

  “So it’s not one of the crime scene photos?”

  “No, the body was discovered in the morning, and all the crime scene photos were taken then. We brought the body straight over to the morgue, so we never had a chance to take a photo at night.”

  “It was definitely the killer who took this photo,” said Ian.

  Ryan looked at us seriously and nodded. “Yes. Killers tend to be terrible people, and I especially don’t like the idea of a killer who takes a photo of his victim. Let alone a killer who sends the photo to my girlfriend.”

  “I’m sure it’s no big deal,” I said, trying to sound light-hearted.

  But deep inside, I knew that Ryan was right.

  What kind of person kept proof of their killing?

  ***

  After Ryan promised us he would try to expedite the fingerprinting of the envelope and its contents—it would still take three or four days, he said—Ian and I headed straight over to Richard’s house.

  A few seconds after we rang the doorbell, it was opened by Serena Dove.

  She raised an eyebrow at us and said, “Richard’s not home, he’s at work.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, deciding that we could stop by Richard’s office later if needed. “I just wanted to ask you if Richard went out the day before yesterday, right after we talked to him.”

  Serena shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. As soon as you stepped out, I got a call from my sister saying she wasn’t feeling well. I had to leave right away, so I wouldn’t know if Richard was home or not.”

  I narrowed my eyes involuntarily. By her own admission, Serena had dashed out right after we left, so perhaps she was the one who’d followed me until she discovered my address. “Didn’t you come back to work afterward?”

  “No, it turned out to be a false alarm, but Richard said he’d reheat a casserole for dinner, and I could take as long as I needed. So I stayed over for a few hours, and we watched a couple of old movies together.”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance.

  “Would you mind if I paid your sister a visit?” I said.

  Serena rolled her eyes. “What for?”

  “To see if you were really with her that night.”

  Serena smiled and shook her head. “I can give you her phone number, but she’s not home today. She’s gone to San Diego for the week.”

  “Okay,” I said, “I’ll just give her a call.”

  Serena reeled off a phone number and said, “Was there anything else you want to talk about?”

  I looked at her carefully—today, she was dressed in a boring beige pantsuit, her hair pulled back tightly again, her face devoid of any makeup.

  “No, that’s all,” I said. “But we’ll come back if we think of anything else.”

  “Of course,” said Serena, smiling politely. “I would expect that to be the case.”

  ***

  Ian and I headed over to Ruby’s apartment next, but although we knocked and knocked, there was no response.

  “She mu
st be at work,” said Ian, stating the obvious.

  I gave her a call as we headed back to my car, but there was no answer.

  I left a voicemail, asking her to give me a call back and let me know when she’d be back from her shift—I needed to talk to her.

  It was almost lunchtime, and Ian and I headed back to the Café Allegro, where we asked Adrian how long he’d worked on the night we came over to talk to him.

  “It was really packed,” he said. “We couldn’t close down till ten. Everyone you talked to had to work until then.”

  “And you were here the entire time?”

  Adrian nodded. “Sure, and so was everyone else.”

  Two of the waitstaff from that night were here today, and they corroborated Adrian’s story—the place had been packed till ten, and nobody had left before then.

  “It couldn’t have been Adrian or anyone who works here,” I said softly to Ian as we headed over to the counter to order sandwiches for lunch. “And I’ve got a feeling that Serena Dove is more than who she says she is.”

  Chapter 15

  Ian and I headed back home; we’d barely stepped out of the elevator when we noticed Carl standing outside my front door.

  “I told you he’d be back for the nannycam,” I muttered to Ian.

  “Do you want me to do anything?”

  I shook my head. “You should go get some rest, I’ll deal with Carl.”

  Carl was looking particularly smug and happy when I approached him.

  I assumed it was because he was looking forward to seeing the contents of the nannycam, and I smiled brightly in response, imagining how disappointed he’d be to see footage of Snowflake attacking the bear.

  “I thought I’d come by and surprise you,” said Carl. “I guess my timing was pretty good.”

  “I guess it was.”

  “Can I come inside?”

  I looked at Carl hesitantly.

  Under ordinary circumstances, there was no way I would allow this man to enter my apartment and be inside when I was all alone.

  But these weren’t ordinary circumstances—I’d received a threat from what appeared to be a deranged killer, and for all I knew, they might have broken into my apartment. Perhaps they were lying in wait for me, especially since, instead of giving up on the investigation, I’d continued asking questions and trying to figure things out.

  On my first case, Stone had taught me how to do a thorough walk-through of the apartment if I ever suspected that someone might be lying in wait for me. I knew that I needed to have my gun drawn, and I needed to check all the nooks and crannies of my tiny one-bedroom place.

  I looked at Carl and shrugged. “You’re welcome to come with me if you’d like, but I should warn you that I’m being stalked by a psychopath. I think someone might be lying in wait for me in my apartment.”

  Carl’s smug smile faltered a little. “You’re joking, right? I know girls don’t have a good sense of humor.”

  “I have an excellent sense of humor,” I said brightly. “I don’t know what kind of girls you’ve been hanging out with.”

  “So… you’re serious about this psychopath maybe having broken in?”

  “Of course. How long have you been standing outside?”

  “I just got here.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “So someone might have gotten in before you arrived.”

  I reached into my handbag and pulled out my gun.

  Carl’s eyes dropped to the gun, his face went pale, and his mouth made a little round O. He took a large step backward and shook his head. “Omigod, you’re serious!”

  “Of course. So, did you want to come inside with me?”

  Carl stared at me, clearly trying to put on a brave face. “Ah, actually, ah, I’d love to. But, umm, I… I actually have to be somewhere else soon.”

  I shrugged. “Your loss.”

  I pulled out my keys and was about to unlock my door, when Carl suddenly remembered why he’d come over.

  “I’d like to have that teddy bear back,” he said. “You know, the one I gave you yesterday? I got a call from the store, and apparently I purchased the wrong one. I need to go back and return it for a different bear.”

  “Sure,” I said, nodding. “I’ll check through my apartment, and then I’ll get you the bear.”

  Cal smiled again, hope returning to his eyes.

  “But if you hear any loud screams,” I added, “I need you to call 911. Or maybe even rush inside and try to save me?”

  Carl looked at me warily. “Of course. I’m not scared of any psychopaths. Of course I’d run inside and try to save you.”

  I smiled brightly, pretending to believe him, and then I unlocked my apartment door and flung it open.

  There were no new messages on the floor of my living room, and none of my furniture appeared to have been rearranged.

  From where I stood, there was absolutely no sign of anyone having broken in, let alone anyone lying in wait for me.

  There were no sounds of heavy breathing, no suspicious rustling noises.

  Nonetheless, my past experiences had taught me not to take a risk. I held the gun steady in my hands and checked through my apartment just as Stone had shown me—I walked through the living room, checked the kitchenette, and entered the bedroom.

  I hadn’t opened the curtains when I’d left, so I switched on the lights and checked under the bed. Nobody. Nobody hiding in the closet, and nobody hiding in my tiny bathroom.

  I flung open the curtains—there was no one behind them, and no one waiting on my tiny fire escape.

  I let out a huge sigh of relief, which made me realize that I’d been holding my breath this entire time.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed, breathed deeply for a few seconds, and then put my gun away. At times like this, I missed doing easy cases—surveillance, following potential cheaters, doing due diligence on prospective employees.

  I couldn’t hear anything from the hallway, even though I half-expected Carl to ask if everything was okay.

  I wondered idly what would happen if I screamed for help—would Carl run away and never bother me again?

  It seemed like a funny prank, but most likely, Mrs. Weebly would get all worried and perhaps come over to try to help me. It wasn’t worth giving Mrs. Weebly a fright in an attempt to scare Carl.

  I found the nannycam teddy bear in the sink, where Snowflake had left it. It looked quite war-weary—Snowflake had managed to rip off chunks of its fur, and one of its eyes looked a bit crooked.

  I smiled to myself and headed out to find Carl waiting for me a few doors down.

  He looked relieved to see me appear and smiled. “I hadn’t heard anything for a long time; I wondered if something might be wrong.”

  “I thought you were going to rush in and save me if you thought something was wrong.”

  “I—uh—that is, I wasn’t sure. I thought perhaps everything might be okay and you just needed some privacy.” He spotted the teddy bear and smiled happily. “There it is!”

  I handed it over to him and beamed. “Yes, there it is.”

  Carl peered at the teddy bear and his smile vanished. He looked all serious as he examined its terrible state. “What happened to this? It looks like someone attacked it.”

  “I gave it to Snowflake to play with—you know, Ian’s kitten? She didn’t seem to like it very much.”

  Carl looked at me like I’d just sprouted horns. “You gave this to a kitten to play with? Instead of keeping it in your bedroom like I asked you to?”

  I smiled and shrugged. “I thought it was a gift, and I could do whatever I wanted with it. Anyway, I hope things work out for you. You probably shouldn’t come over to my apartment too often—the psychopath might think you’re working alongside me and attack you instead.”

  Carl frowned, obviously wondering whether I was being serious or not.

  Without giving him a chance to respond, I disappeared back into my apartment, grinned to myself, and started getting dres
sed for my shift at the casino.

  Chapter 16

  After two days of surveillance and investigations, it felt like a nice change of pace to walk into the warmth and buzz of the casino pit.

  Because it was still early afternoon, the floor wasn’t too busy yet; I knew that by tonight, however, it would be packed with crowds of tourists, partyers, and a couple of locals. At the moment, most of the gamblers looked fresh-faced and energetic, happy to have gotten an early start at their games.

  The pit was as brightly lit as ever, windowless and completely detached from the rest of the world.

  There was no way to know what the weather was like or what time of day it was, and once you stepped into this realm of jingling slot machines, complimentary drinks and happy gamblers, it was impossible to remember the world outside.

  The dealer I was relieving clapped her hands out at the blackjack table, nodded at me, and let me take over.

  I introduced myself to the three gamblers sitting before me as I dealt out their cards, and found myself settling into my role as the dealer.

  Switching from dealing with PI cases to dealing cards might seem odd to some people, but I’ve always enjoyed the respite from violence and criminals.

  Often, I use my time in the pit as an opportunity to turn a case over in my mind, but today, I didn’t really want to think about April’s murder—I didn’t like the idea of someone taking photos of her and sending them to me. I especially didn’t like the idea that this person was probably someone I’d already talked to.

  On my break, I checked my messages—there was one from Ruby, saying that her shift would be over in the early morning, and she would be home by two. I could come by later in the day if I wanted.

  I sent her a quick text, saying that my shift would also end around the same time, and I could actually stop by her apartment at two in the morning, if that was okay with her.

  Next, I tried to call Serena’s sister—but my call went straight to voicemail. I left a short message introducing myself, asking if she could call me back.

  I wondered if Serena had warned her sister about me and told her not to talk to me. I wasn’t sure if I believed the story about her sister being in San Diego, but I would soon find out. I couldn’t wait till my shift was over, and I had some time to look up everyone on my private investigator’s database.