“Do you think Crystal’s death might have something to do with the movie?” he asked, and I shook my head.
“I’m not sure yet, I’m looking into everything. Did you ever meet Crystal?”
“No. Financing movies is as boring as any other business. I just know the other producer Ben, and the director and screenwriter.”
“What d’you think of them?”
“Jack!” said a voice so loud and deep I was surprised it hadn’t caused an earthquake. “We’ve been looking all over for you!”
The voice was behind me, so I turned around. It belonged to one of the Texans, and his two buddies were right beside him.
I turned to look back at Jack. His expression was one of studied politeness, and he said, “Good to see you, Bart. And you too, Mike; Eddie.”
The Texan trio began shaking hands with Jack, and saying something about the weather in Vegas and the last time they were down here…
I was about to ease my way out, when Jack fished out a business card and wrote down something on the back.
“That’s my private number on the back,” he said, handing me the card. “Give me a call and we’ll talk about the movie.”
The Texans glanced at me curiously, obviously wondering if I was a movie star or executive. I’m sure they decided on the latter, because their glances weren’t that curious.
“Jack,” one of them boomed, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your beautiful friend?”
I smiled. Despite their booming voices and their outfits, these men still knew chivalry.
Introductions were made, and I excused myself, not seeing the point of hanging around any longer. My job at the party was done. Almost. All that was left for me to do was snag a couple of hors d’oeuvres, maybe chug a free drink, and then get home for a night in.
“Remember to call me,” Jack said, as I left. We smiled at each other and his eyes were so intense that I had to remind myself to breathe.
Of course I’d remember to call him.
Chapter Sixteen
After I’d guzzled down a glass of expensive white wine and devoured at least a dozen of those fancy mini-sandwiches and nibbles-on-a-stick, Stone and I headed home.
“That was a pretty good party,” I said.
Stone nodded, and I waited for him to say something. I’d seen him shaking hands and chatting with people, while I’d spent most of my time being the typical wallflower, albeit one who ate a lot.
He didn’t say anything, so I prompted, “Did you meet anyone interesting?”
“Did you?”
He focused his glance on me, and I knew he’d seen me chatting with Jack.
I shrugged. “Just work stuff.”
I didn’t feel like talking about Jack, and we drove the rest of the way in silence. There seemed to be something in the air, something bordering on awkwardness, and I didn’t feel like exploring what it was.
“I’ll walk you up,” Stone said, parking near my condo.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
He ignored me and we rode up in the elevator together, our usual comfortable silence not feeling quite right.
“I’m stopping by Glenn’s,” I told him. “He said he’d do some baking today.”
There was no response from Stone, but he followed me out and waited as I knocked on Glenn’s door.
Karma answered the door. She was wearing a bright orange turban, and a flowing, white maxi-dress that looked kind of like a nightgown. Her eyes were rimmed with dark kohl and her lips were smeared a reddish-maroon.
“Tiffany!” she said, clutching her chest. “My God, I’m so glad to see you. I thought you were in grave danger.”
She ushered us inside, and I saw Glen walking toward us.
I tried not to roll my eyes. “I’m fine,” I told her. “I just stopped by to say hi.”
Karma peered at Stone and looked at me again. “Maybe this young man is protecting you from the dangers? I sense you two have a close connection. Maybe romantic?”
Glen had reached us by now and he smiled. “Hello, Stone.” The two men shook hands. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You too, sir,” Stone said.
“These days, you don’t meet very many young men as nice as this one,” Glenn told me, and I smiled stiffly.
Karma looked at me carefully, and reached out one hand. She placed the tips of her fingers on the side of my neck, and I tried not to flinch at her feather-light touch.
“Are you two together?” she asked me. “I can sense you have a strong bond.”
I did a mental eye-roll and looked at Stone. The corners of his lips had gone up and I knew that he too, was mentally shaking his head.
“We’re friends,” I told Karma. “We just met a few months ago.”
She removed her hand from my neck and waved it, like she was flicking away an imaginary mosquito.
“Time is unimportant,” she announced. “It is the connection of the soul that matters.”
I nodded slowly. “Ri-ight.”
“The spirits tell me there will be romance in your future,” Karma said. “But it will be complicated, and might not make you happy.”
“Oh.” My stomach felt funny and I frowned. I didn’t want to believe in Karma’s spirits, and I didn’t want to believe in a complicated romance. But maybe the feeling in my stomach was just telling me that I’d had too many fancy hors d’oeuvres. Those tidbits were probably meant to be eaten one at a time, not one handful after another.
“The man will have green eyes,” Karma continued, and my eyes widened. “Do you know a man with green eyes?”
I shook my head furiously, unwilling to tell Karma about Jack, and gulped. Now I wanted to believe her spirits.
Glenn cleared his throat, and looked pointedly at Karma, who looked back at him and sighed.
“Tiffany,” Glenn said lightly, “Are you working on a case right now?”
“Yes. Why?”
He was holding a big plastic food container in his hands, and he looked at it and said, “I didn’t know you were out, so Karma and I stopped by your place earlier. I wanted to give you this box of cupcakes. They’re apple and cinnamon, with vanilla and cinnamon frosting.”
I grinned broadly and he gave me the box before I could snatch it out of his hands. “Thanks.”
“Um…” Glen glanced at Karma and then looked back at me. “Karma and I saw a man standing outside your door. He looked like he was trying to slip an envelope under your door.”
My smile disappeared, and I was conscious of the silence in the air. My hands felt clammy, and there seemed to be a chill somewhere. I felt Stone take a protective step closer to me.
“What did he look like?” I asked Glen.
Glen shook his head. “We don’t know. He was wearing a black ski mask.”
I felt dizzy. I breathed in deeply and closed my eyes. “What else?”
“Sorry?”
“What else was he wearing?”
I opened my eyes to see Glenn looking a bit puzzled. My question probably made no sense, but all I could think of was Green Eyes wearing the ski mask and suit.
“Jeans, I guess,” said Glenn. “Dirty-looking jeans and a grayish t-shirt.”
I exhaled. It couldn’t be Green Eyes – Jack – because I couldn’t imagine him not wearing a suit. Unless Jack wasn’t Green Eyes. But that couldn’t be.
“He had a dark soul,” Karma said. “I could sense his evil. He’s very angry at you.”
“You think?” The words came out unchecked, and I sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be sarcastic.”
“It’s ok,” Karma told me. “I understand your fear. But you must be careful.”
I looked back at Glenn. “Are you ok? He didn’t – threaten you or anything did he?”
Glenn smiled and shook his head. “We’re fine, thanks to Karma.” He exchanged a happy glance with her and said, “She started screaming at the guy, and then she grabbed the box from my hands and threw it at him. Almost hit
him in the face. He ran away through the fire escape.”
“I’m glad you’re ok,” I said, and peeked under the lid of the box at the cupcakes. They weren’t ok – the icing was all smooshed and some of it was stuck to the sides of the box. I tried not to look disappointed. Glenn was ok, and that’s what mattered. Still, Karma didn’t have to go around throwing boxes of cupcakes at people.
“He’s not a good person,” Karma told me, and I bit back the response that came to my mind. “I hope he stays away from you.”
“Did you see his eyes?” I asked her, and she nodded.
“Yes, eyes, the windows to the soul. His soul was dark.”
I nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes, what color were they?”
Karma looked at me, surprised, and I said slowly, “What. Color. Were. His eyes?”
“I told you,” she said, “They were dark. Like his soul.”
“So not green?”
“No. Dark brown.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“He ran off with the envelope,” Karma continued. “I hope it didn’t have an important message in it.”
“I’m sure it didn’t,” I told her. “And we should get going.”
“Yes,” Stone agreed, and we said our goodbyes and headed up to my apartment.
Stone made me wait outside for a few minutes while he checked through my apartment, and then he gave me the all-clear to come inside.
“That’s it,” he told me. “I’m going everywhere with you from now on.”
“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”
But my words sounded hollow even to me, and Stone just shook his head and left.
Before I went to bed, I pulled Jack’s card out of my tiny purse and smiled to myself.
“Jack Weber,” it said, “Entrepreneur.”
Short and sweet. And then, like a sudden punch in the face, realization hit me. I knew where else I’d heard that name. He was one of the owners of the red Ferraris, the ones whose number plates matched up. Jack Weber was Green Eyes. I couldn’t prove it, but I knew “in my soul,” as Karma would say, that he’d stolen the Van Gogh.
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought back to Jack. He was too successful to be a career criminal, and he was too charming for me to believe that he was a thief. But he was involved somehow; I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
Chapter Seventeen
Early to bed and early to rise was not something I did very often. But when I do, I feel like a million bucks – not least because I didn’t have to spend the previous night dealing with drunk, aggressive gamblers in a too-bright, too-loud casino pit.
So the next morning, I woke up feeling all bright and cheery. I smiled as I remembered the delicious hors d’oeuvres of the previous night, and the way Jack had reminded me to call him. And then I remembered the box of apple-cinnamon cupcakes sitting in my fridge, and I felt even happier. This would be a perfect day. Well, ok, I’d promised my parents that I’d have lunch at their place today; but other than that, it would be a perfect day.
I changed into clean jeans and a white blouse, and started on my breakfast. I’d just finished my first cupcake and half a mug of coffee when my phone rang. I recognized the LVMPD number, and answered, thinking it was Emily.
“This is Elwood,” said Detective Elwood’s voice. “How are you?”
I stifled a sigh when I heard his voice, and reminded myself that today would be a perfect day.
“Good,” I said warily, not bothering to ask how he was. I knew how he was – chugging away on coffee-flavored cream and sugar, pining for his ex-wife.
“Can you come into the precinct?” he asked, and I nodded.
See? I told myself. The perfect day. I’d been meaning to go to the precinct anyway.
“How about in a few minutes from now?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said, his voice ridiculously polite. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
I chose to ignore his sarcasm. “Thanks, I’ll see you soon.”
“Hunh,” he said, and hung up.
I shrugged and put the phone away. If he was busy, he’d have said something. Getting this out of the way first thing meant I could spend the rest of the day investigating Crystal’s death.
I heard raised voices outside my door, and peered out through the peephole. I couldn’t see anything, so I opened the door a crack, and peered around to my left.
Stone was standing in the hallway, typing into his phone and studiously trying to avoid Mrs. Weebly.
“You can’t just loiter here,” she said. “Visitors can’t just loiter.”
“I’m waiting for my friend to come out,” Stone said, sounding as though he’d been repeating this line quite a few times. He caught my eye and I made a face. Before Mrs. Weebly could step forward, Stone slipped inside my condo and closed the door behind us.
“You can’t just leave like that!” Mrs. Weebly yelled, her voice shrill and piercing. “Where are your manners?”
Stone and I looked at each other.
“Did she remember you’re my friend?” I asked. “Does she know you’re here to visit me?”
Stone rolled his eyes and nodded.
I groaned. “Great. Now she’ll bring this up at the HOA meeting. Why couldn’t you just knock on my door like a regular guy?”
“Didn’t want to wake you.”
“Then wait in your car! You don’t even have to be here!”
Stone looked at me seriously, and I looked away. I was worried he could see through me, and truth be told, after last night, I was actually looking forward to a bit of company.
“I’ve got a few hours to be around you,” Stone told me. “But after that, you’re on your own.”
I nodded, not quite sure what to say, and we headed down to the station, Stone driving close behind me.
Chapter Eighteen
Elwood was slumped over some papers in front of him, and he only glanced up when I was a few inches from his desk. Stone had gone off to talk to some detective he knew, and I wondered briefly why Elwood seemed to hate him.
“Hard at work?” I asked, smiling, but Elwood refused to smile back.
There was a half a mug of coffee sitting on his desk, and judging from the strange white sheen on top, I guessed it had been sitting there for almost a day now. Elwood looked as grumpy as usual, and his skin looked blotchy with dark circles under his eyes. And then I noticed he was wearing a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, and a dark jacket hung over his chair.
“Are you still wearing last night’s clothes?” I said. “Don’t they let you go home for the night?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I happen to be busy.”
I nodded. “Lots of big cases?”
He grunted, and I glanced at the mess of papers scattered before him. A brief, flickering thought entered my mind – was he trying to avoid going back home because his wife was no longer there? But I pushed the thought away impatiently. I’d be a typical Vegas sucker if I felt sorry for every loser I met.
“What’d you want to talk about?” I said, trying to move things along.
Elwood stared at me through hooded eyes and I wondered how he functioned as a cop if he was sleep-deprived.
Finally, he said, “Interesting seeing you at the party last night.”
I smiled and waited for him to get to the point. He rubbed one eye and said, “I feel like you know something about this theft.”
“I think I might. I was going to come here to tell you.” Elwood raised one eyebrow and leaned back and I said, “The results of Ferrari license plates. Jack Weber was one of the owners. I think it’s him.”
“And why’s that?”
“I just…” I thought back to his eyes, and the strong “feeling in my soul” about this.
But saying that out loud would make me look like an idiot, so I said, “He’s the same height and eye color as the man I saw jump out that building. You have to investigate this.”
Elwood sighed. “How do you
know he’s the same height?”
“They look the same.”
“Height’s a tough thing to guess. Eyes look different colors in different lights, and lots of people have green or blue eyes. Got anything else?”
I looked at him in disbelief. “Don’t you think it’s at least worth looking into?”
Elwood shook his head. “Do I think it’s worth looking into a man who’s got a decent alibi and is one of the biggest donors of the LVMPD Foundation? You’ve got to be nuts.”
I crossed my arms. Donating to the LVMPD Foundation was a nice thing to do, but it just made me all the more suspicious of Jack. Nobody donated to the cops unless they had an ulterior motive.
“Any other suspects you want to talk about?” Elwood said. “Maybe the mayor, or the state senator?”
I looked at him, not smiling. “So you’re really not going to look into Jack?”
The left side of Elwood’s mouth went up in a crooked smile. “I’m not an idiot.”
I didn’t believe that, but I didn’t say anything.
“So,” Elwood went on, “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. You’re a big-shot PI, you’ve got lots of contacts and meet people at fancy parties, you tell me.”
“Are you asking me to share notes about what I learnt at last night’s party?”
He leaned forward. “No. I’m asking you to tell me why you really went to the party. Are you trying to pawn off the Van Gogh? Do you have a buyer in mind?”
I stared at him for a few seconds, and then I shook my head. “Why would I have a buyer?” He continued to look at me intently and my eyes widened. “Oh my God. You don’t think I stole it, do you?”
He shook his head. “No, I don’t think you’re smart enough to steal a Van Gogh. But I think you might know who did it, and you might be helping them sell it off.”
I raised my hands, exasperated. “I already told you. Look into Jack Weber.”
“Nice try. I’m not falling for that and wasting my time.”
A.R. Winters - Tiffany Black 02 - Green Eyes in Las Vegas Page 10