Deadly Disco in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 6)

by AR Winters

  “That was interesting,” said Ian. “We learned that Amelia probably was sleeping with Josh after all.”

  “Maybe Chloe was just being jealous.”

  Ian said, “She didn’t seem like the jealous type.”

  I nodded. “I guess we’ll find out when we see Amelia. And we’ll need to ask David about him dissolving his partnership with Josh.”

  I found the address of the restaurant Amelia was working at, and Ian and I drove off, wondering if we’d learn anything new from Amelia. I had to remind myself that Amelia might’ve been the one who killed Josh, but that was hard to believe, given that the door to Josh’s office had been wiped clean of all prints other than Amelia’s. Which meant that whoever had killed Josh had wiped the prints, and Amelia had walked in afterwards.

  When I explained this to Ian, he said, “But maybe this is all part of her plan, so people don’t think she killed him.”

  “That sounds a bit far-fetched,” I told him, pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant. “But we’ll soon find out.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The Thai Lantern was a restaurant that catered to the well-heeled Vegas locals who lived north of the Strip. There were quite a few newer suburbs here, and I supposed that everyone needed a place to eat. Unlike most cheap Thai food places that seemed to subsist by providing delivery services, the Thai Lantern was stylish and elegant. Inside, there were large tables with white tablecloths, set with small vases of flowers. A shimmering chandelier hung overhead. The place was mostly empty when we walked in, and Amelia stood behind a small hostess stand.

  Amelia was medium height, with bluish-black hair cut into a sharp bob and dark eyes that watched us carefully. She wore a white silky top, and her makeup was neutral and immaculate.

  “Welcome to Thai Lantern,” she said smoothly as we walked up to her. “Would you like a table for two?”

  “No, thanks,” said Ian. “Although the food does look good. But we’re not here to eat.”

  Amelia looked at us, puzzled. “You know you’ve walked into a restaurant, right?”

  “We’re here looking into Josh Cadogan’s death,” I explained. “I know you used to be his assistant, right?”

  Amelia paled and nodded. “I hate thinking about it,” she said. “You know, when I walked in…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes focused on a point behind our heads. She gulped. “It was so horrible. I thought he’d fainted, or gotten sick, or something.” She sniffed and focused her glance on me again. “I’m sorry, are you with the LVMPD?”

  I shook my head no and explained that Ian and I were investigating privately for Josh’s ex-wife.

  “Ah, Mary,” said Amelia. “She asked me what I thought, too. But I told her, if the police think it was an accident, it must’ve been an accident.”

  “You found the body,” I said. “Did you manage to have a look at his cell phone?”

  Amelia shook her head. “I didn’t notice it. The police told me later that they’d found it lying on his desk.”

  “Was there anything else odd about the room? Did you notice anything when you walked in?”

  Amelia shook her head. “I was just so shocked by the sight of Josh’s body, just lying there. I didn’t notice anything else.”

  An elderly couple walked into the restaurant. The woman was short, with fluffy cheeks, and wore a bright pink Queen Elizabeth-style suit; the man was tall and hunched over and wore a white shirt with brown dress pants.

  Amelia excused herself, and we waited as she greeted the couple and seated them at a table by the window.

  “Where were we?” she asked when she came back. “Right, the room. No, nothing unusual.”

  I nodded. “And you came in through the back entrance, right?”

  She nodded again. “I know what you’re about to ask. I can’t think of how an outsider would get into the club, unless Josh let them in.”

  “But there were no calls or messages on his phone, other than the text he sent you.”

  “So,” Amelia said slowly, “either he was alone when he died, or David had come in. Or someone had texted him, and that person deleted the phone records.”

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Wow,” she said. “That’s horrible, that someone could be so cold-blooded. Josh was such a great guy.” Her eyes misted up, and she pinched her inner eye corners, drawing the tears away.

  “You sound really upset by his death,” I said gently. When Amelia nodded wordlessly, I said, “What was the relationship between the two of you like? Was he a good boss?”

  “He was so nice,” said Amelia. “Just such a great person. And a great boss, too. I couldn’t imagine working for anyone other than him.”

  But now here she was. I said, “And did you two have any other kind of relationship? Apart from boss-employee?”

  She looked at me coldly, her dark eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Josh liked women,” I said. “It’s surprising that you two didn’t have a relationship.”

  “Well, we didn’t,” Amelia snapped.

  “Did he ever hit on you?” I asked. “Try to seduce you in any way?”

  Amelia looked away and shook her head.

  “Because,” I went on, “Chloe was pretty sure you two had something.”

  “Chloe’s an idiot,” said Amelia, not bothering to hide her impatience. “I can’t believe that woman’s jealous of me. Josh slept with a lot of women—everyone knew that—but the two of us never had an affair. He didn’t believe in relationships with employees, I guess.”

  I nodded. “But Chloe was pretty sure—”

  “Crazy ex-girlfriend,” said Amelia, laughing shortly. “Maybe she got so used to seeing him with other women that she just assumed he’d sleep with me as well.”

  “But he never did?” asked Ian. “Because you’re really pretty.”

  Amelia looked at Ian in surprise. I could tell that she’d been about to snap at us again, but his compliment threw her off. “Thank you,” she said, sounding as surprised as she looked. “But, no, there was nothing between us. Absolutely nothing.”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked, trying to change the subject. We’d asked her about Josh so many times, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d started to feel a little hostile towards us.

  Amelia shook her head. “I’m off men for a while. I had a bad breakup before I moved out here, so…”

  “But you moved out here three years ago,” Ian said. “Aren’t you over that by now?”

  Amelia smiled. “Yeah, I guess you could say I am. But I’m not about to rush into another relationship now, you know?”

  Ian nodded. “I know. Relationships are hard. Look at me—I’m a really nice guy. Everyone tells me that, but I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone soon,” Amelia assured him.

  I asked Amelia if Josh had seemed any different in the days before he’d died, but she shook her head. “He seemed about the same,” she said sadly.

  “And what about his relationship with David?” I asked.

  She looked at me, surprised. “They’ve always been great friends. Why?”

  I said, “Well, Chloe told us that David didn’t approve of Josh’s idea about investing in Taylor’s concierge business.”

  Amelia nodded. “Well, that much is true. I heard them arguing about it. Josh wasn’t happy that David wasn’t being more supportive of his son.” She looked from me to Ian. “Why? Do you think it was a big deal?”

  I shrugged. “Not necessarily. Was it?”

  Amelia shook her head. “I didn’t think so at the time. It would’ve been just another business disagreement, except Josh was upset David didn’t believe in Taylor. But it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “And what about any other business disagreements?” I asked. “I heard David wanted to dissolve the partnership, at one time.”

  “That was a while ago,” said Amelia. “I didn’t think they’d had any serious disagree
ments recently. Other than about investing in Taylor’s concierge business.”

  “Have you met Taylor?” Ian asked suddenly.

  Amelia nodded. “A couple of times. He came in sometimes to help maintain our websites. That’s what he used to do for pocket money when he was a kid. He liked working on his dad’s businesses.”

  “It’s no wonder he wants to start a business now,” I mused. “He got it from his dad. What did you think of Taylor?”

  Amelia shrugged. “He seemed like a regular kid, really. Just more motivated. Wanted to be a ‘thirty under thirty’ type, you know? Get lots of success as soon as possible. Really enthusiastic. Hard-working. He never complained when David or Josh would ask him to add something to the websites.”

  I gulped, thinking back to the boy we’d seen at Mary’s house. Taylor was clearly a shell of his former self—there was absolutely no enthusiasm or spark in the young man we’d seen.

  “When was the last time you saw Taylor?” Ian asked.

  “At the funeral,” said Amelia. “He was really upset. Poor kid.”

  I nodded. “I hate to ask this, but what were you doing when you got the text from Josh?”

  Amelia sighed. “I was at home. I was going to cook up some lunch, when I got the text.”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance. Amelia had no alibi. But then again, she didn’t seem to have any reason to kill Josh.

  If anything, it seemed like we needed to have another chat with David.

  Chapter Twelve

  We gave David a buzz to check that he was awake, and then Ian and I drove over to Deadly Disco again. David had said he’d meet us there, and we called him again once we were standing at the side entrance.

  David opened the door and ushered us in. Something seemed different when we stepped inside, and I put my finger on it within a few seconds. “It’s so quiet!”

  David nodded. “Night and day, you might say. You wanna have a look at the dance floor?”

  Ian and I were curious to see what the dance area looked like in the daytime, so we headed over. It was pitch dark. Silent. Creepy.

  “I can’t believe you work here,” I said, backing out quickly and getting to the safety of the employees’ office area. “It’s like a graveyard.”

  “Josh said the quiet helped him think,” said David sadly. “But I don’t think I’ll come here during the day again.”

  “No wonder Amelia quit,” Ian said. “Seeing the dead body and having to deal with this kind of creepy quiet?”

  We headed into David’s office, and I looked around. It looked exactly the same as the last night, but there was no softly thumping music streaming through from the dance area.

  “It’s nice of you to meet us,” I said. “We just had a few more questions about Josh’s death.”

  “Okay, then,” said David, leaning back in his chair. “Did you learn anything new?”

  “Not really,” I said. “We just wanted to know a bit more about your relationship. Like, did you fight much?”

  “What is this?” said David. “Couples therapy?”

  I cracked a smile. “No, I meant businesswise. You two must’ve disagreed on stuff.”

  “Once in a while, but not often.”

  “What about disagreeing about business direction and wanting to dissolve the partnership?”

  “That was almost a year ago,” David said. “And Josh was right. We needed to stick to our core strengths.”

  “So you didn’t want to head off and do things separately?”

  “No,” said David. “Business together was good.”

  “And what about Josh’s son, Taylor?”

  David looked at me warily. “What about him?”

  “Did Josh say anything about Taylor?”

  David looked at me for a beat and said, “This is about Taylor’s concierge business, isn’t it? But I don’t see how it’s relevant to Josh’s death.”

  I wasn’t really getting that many leads, and perhaps I was clutching at straws here. But David was going to benefit from Josh’s death financially, and if they’d had a fight about something close to Josh’s heart, it was probably relevant. I didn’t tell David all that. I said, “What was the fight about?”

  David rolled his eyes. “Josh’s son wanted to start a business, okay? But he didn’t have that many great ideas. So he came up with this idea for a VIP concierge thing, and asked Josh to invest quite a lot of money in it. I told Josh not to.”

  “And that upset him?”

  David shrugged. “Look, he asked for my opinion and I gave it to him. Tough that he didn’t like it.”

  “Why did you tell Josh not to invest?”

  David said, “VIP concierges are a dime a dozen here in Vegas. You need contacts, you need a lot of stuff. Taylor had none of those. What Taylor did have was a lot of enthusiasm and a doting father. I told Josh that he shouldn’t give Taylor handouts. If Taylor wanted to start a business, he should do what most new business owners do. Go to the bank, raise start-up capital from angel investors. Learn to pitch to independent investors. Better yet, go to college and learn some basic accounting and marketing. It’s not like the kid was running out of time.”

  I nodded, and Ian said, “So why’d Josh get so upset?”

  David shook his head. “He always wanted to help his son. I told him not to spoil Taylor. If he gave Taylor the money, the kid would just blow it and come back to him for more handouts. I guess the truth hurts.”

  Ian said, “Did Taylor ever talk to you about this?”

  David shook his head. “This was a few days before Josh died. I’m not sure if he talked to Taylor about the concierge idea after all. Anyway, now Taylor doesn’t have to worry about money. It’s his.”

  “It’s in a trust till he turns thirty-two,” Ian reminded David.

  “What about other businesses?” I asked David. “Did the two of you ever invest independently?”

  “Sure.” David nodded. “Every now and then.”

  Just then, his phone buzzed, and he excused himself to leave the room. When he came back, Taylor was close on his heels. The boy looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and skin that was pale and splotchy. He nodded at Ian and me and mumbled a greeting.

  “Taylor’s here to help me with a computer problem,” David said. “Are we done with the questions?”

  Taylor looked at us inquisitively, and I nodded. I turned to Taylor and said, “Ian and I are doing our best to uncover the truth.”

  Taylor rolled his eyes. “What good does that do?” he said. “He’s dead now.”

  I murmured something about being sorry for his loss, not sure what else to say.

  Ian said, “There’s some use to the truth. Mary thinks she’ll get closure.”

  Taylor rolled his eyes and looked away, disinterested. Ian and I said goodbye to David and headed out, off to have lunch with my mom.

  As we drove, Ian said, “We’ve spoken to his girlfriend, his assistant, and his partner. None of them seem to have much to say. Isn’t that odd?”

  I shook my head. “The killer isn’t necessarily one of them. And people do lie. You just have to compare stories, and see between the lies.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “If I’m ever dead,” declared my mother, “I’d want you to look into it.”

  We were sitting around the dining table, digging into our lunches. Chicken-mushroom pies and salads, and there was the promise of chocolate pudding for dessert. The table felt a little empty, and every now and then I glanced at the chair where Nanna used to sit. She’d lived with my parents for the last ten years, but recently she’d up and gotten married, and was now busy honeymooning with her new husband.

  “Why’s that?” Ian asked between mouthfuls.

  “Well, I’d like you to know if someone killed me,” said Mom. “It might be my friend Muffy. She always was jealous of my pumpkin pie recipe and I never gave it to her.”

  “I’m sure no one would kill you over a pie recipe,” I told her
.

  Ian said, “Most killers are psychopaths. Or it’s the spouse.” He slid his eyes over to my dad and eyed him suspiciously. “You don’t shoot, do you, Mr. Black?”

  I said, “Don’t be rude, Ian.”

  My dad wasn’t offended. He smiled and said, “I’m flattered you think I’d bother to kill someone. It takes a lot of smarts, you know, getting away with murder.”

  Ian nodded. “Yeah, killers are really smart people. And really brave.”

  “I’d like to think I’m brave,” my dad said, “but I love my wife too much. I can’t even get angry with her, ever. She’s the light of my life.”

  My mom and dad smiled at each other and made goofy, lovey-dovey eyes, and Ian wrinkled his nose. “Nothing worse than old people in love,” he said. “Don’t you guys know how gross that is?”

  “It’s certainly uncool,” I agreed, secretly thrilled that my parents were still so in love.

  My mother turned to me and said, “I know you young people are only interested in being ‘cool’ these days, but it is important to find love. Look at your Nanna—even she fell in love and got married.”

  “Yes,” I said, “but after Grandpa died, Nanna was single for fifteen years. When she lived out here, she was up late every night, hanging out with her Old People’s Gang.” I didn’t mention that Nanna was also staying up late playing poker and winning money off green tourists. “And she dated lots of people. Remember that young guy who was twenty-three?”

  My mother made the sign of the cross and said, “Thank God your Nanna’s married now.”

  Ian said, “I want to get married. And sometimes I meet girls who say they’ll marry me. But then my lawyer butts in and the girls run away.”

  “Those girls are gold diggers,” I reminded Ian. “Vegas attracts lots of pretty young girls who want a quick meal ticket, and sometimes they think it’s you. The girls run off once your lawyer makes it clear that they can’t get to your trust fund.”

  My mother patted Ian’s hand gently. “Those girls aren’t right for you. You’ll find someone better.”