Zombie Cash Run in Las Vegas

by WINTERS, A. R.

  The exterior looked dated, red brick with chunky doors and windows. There was a small parking lot outside, and stairs led up to the second floor, where Billy's apartment was.

  When Ian and I knocked on the door, it was opened by a clean-cut, tall blonde wearing track pants and a green T-shirt. He stared at us silently, suspicion emanating from his blue eyes.

  "Billy?" I said.

  He nodded, still not saying anything.

  I decided I was tired of pretending to be Brenna's friend, and went with the truth. "I'm Tiffany, and this is my friend Ian. We’re private investigators–and we’re looking into Brenna's death. We heard you’re a friend of hers, so we’re hoping to chat with you for a minute or two?"

  The suspicion ebbed from Billy's eyes, replaced by a tinge of sadness. He shrugged, and said, "Come in. But I've already talked to the cops. Why are you guys investigating, when the cops are still on the case?"

  As we followed him inside, I said, "The director of the show where Brenna was working wants us to look into it."

  That seemed to satisfy Billy, and we all sat down in his small living room. Ian and I settled down on an overstuffed sofa, and Billy sat on one of the wooden chairs opposite us.

  "I'm really shocked about the whole thing," he said, with what seemed like sincerity. "Brenna was a nice person."

  "You seem to have known her well."

  "We were working at the bistro together for about six months. Of course, I hate that manager there. Rand fired me, but he's just a suspicious kind of guy, and all-round dirtbag. Nobody works there for too long."

  "He told us you got fired a week ago."

  "Yeah. He said I’ve got a bad attitude, and that I kept coming in late. I was never more than five minutes late, and if a customer asks me to take food back and exchange it five times, I'm gonna tell them they're probably not gonna be happy with the food in our bistro. I mean, what else does he expect?"

  "Did you go to see Brenna when she was shooting the show?"

  Billy shook his head. "Brenna said she wanted to do that alone, that she'd get nervous if someone she knew was watching her."

  "Don't you think that's a bit strange?"

  Billy shrugged. "I figured she just wanted some space. She was like that, you know. Nice girl, but didn't have any close friends. She liked being by herself."

  I nodded, and decided to go for the kill. "We heard that you and Brenna were seeing each other."

  Billy narrowed his eyes at me. "Who told you that?"

  "It's not important. But I'm guessing you didn't tell the cops?"

  "Who told you that?" Billy repeated.

  I could see we weren't going anywhere until he found out who spilled the beans, so I said, "Steve."

  Billy shot us a smug grin and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Yeah, serves him right. I don't know why she was seeing that loser anyway."

  I decided not to say anything about Steve for now, and instead, I said, "How long were you and Brenna together?"

  "About three months or so. Maybe a bit longer, because she was still with Steve when we got together."

  "And you guys were happy together?"

  "Sure. What's not to be happy about? I mean, Brenna wasn't all jealous and possessive like most other girls. And she wasn't into wild parties or anything. We liked to hang out with each other–she didn't try to pressure me like some other girls do. As soon as they start dating you for a bit, they start hinting that they'd like to get engaged or have a baby, or something like that. Brenna didn't do any of that. She liked taking things slow, just like me."

  I frowned, feeling slightly disappointed. I'd been hoping that Billy would seem like the dangerous, jealous type. But so far, it had seemed like Brenna wasn't interested in a serious relationship, and neither was he. Hardly the stuff that passionate murders were borne of.

  "Did you and Brenna ever fight?"

  Billy shrugged. "Sure. You know, did we want Thai food for dinner, or pizza."

  "Ever fight over something more serious?"

  Billy furrowed his brow and tried to think. "Okay," he said finally. "I wanted to meet her brother, Jake. Like, maybe double date, or something. I mean, I wasn't trying to get serious with her, but I thought Brenna would appreciate that I was making an effort. I've dated other girls before who want to meet my family, and keep asking to meet my parents, and for me to meet theirs. So, I figured she’d like it if I suggested that I meet her brother. But she got all annoyed, and said we’d only just gotten together, asking why was I trying to push this. And then I said I was just trying to be nice to her. And she said I could try to be nice in other ways. It just kind of went on, you know how it is?"

  I smiled and nodded, trying to ignore the disappointment I felt. But then again, I told myself perhaps Billy was a good actor, and he was lying about the whole thing.

  "What about Steve? How did he find out?"

  "Beats me. I saw him in the bistro once or twice, and he seemed like a real loser. I wasn't surprised Brenna got bored with him."

  "What makes you think he was a real loser?"

  "He just seemed that way. You know, kind of like a loser."

  Ian and I exchanged a glance. Clearly, Billy was a deep thinker.

  I decided that trying to talk to Billy about his relationship or about Steve wasn't really going anywhere, so I said, "Did Brenna have any hobbies?"

  "She liked reading. And the last couple of months, she seemed really obsessed with reality shows. She was watching all these shows all the time– Hey! That's another thing we fought about! Sometimes, I wanted to watch sports. And Brenna wanted to keep watching reality TV. But then she got some streaming service she could watch on her iPad. So, I'd watch sports, and she'd watch reality shows on her iPad. So it all worked out."

  "I heard she went to LA to audition for another reality show," I said, remembering what Jake told us.

  Billy nodded. "Sure, it was some show called Ready, Aim, Cook. She flew out to LA–she got some kind of discount ticket at the last minute. I would’ve joined her, but she managed to get time off from work, and that stupid manager wouldn’t give me any time off. He said it was hard enough losing one waitress for a few days. I don’t see what his problem was."

  I nodded sympathetically. "And did Brenna have a good time on the show?"

  Billy rolled his eyes. "I guess. I mean, she didn't make it through to the next round, so when she came back she was a bit bummed out about that. But she said she'd try to enter another show. So, I–I don’t know. I mean, now that I think about it, I wish she hadn’t gotten interested in reality shows. Maybe that's what killed her."

  "Maybe," I said, noncommittally. "So, you didn't go to see Brenna when she was competing on Zombie Cash Run. What did you do instead?"

  Billy smiled. "The cops came around, and they asked me the same thing. Of course, somehow, they hadn't heard that Brenna and I'd been dating. We managed to keep it a secret. Anyway, I told them that I'd been at home. I'm looking for a new job, and I’d gone on a few interviews. I went out that evening, but I was home during the day."

  I couldn’t think of anything else to ask him and I glanced at Ian. He got the silent hint, and started chatting to Billy about Vegas–how long had he been here, and what other family did he have? Did he want to move away from this place, or did he think he'd live here for a long time? Did he like basketball, and which teams did he cheer for?

  After another few minutes of polite chitchat, Ian and I thanked Billy for his time, said goodbye, and headed back to my car.

  Once we were inside, I let out a sigh of disappointment. "That didn’t go how I hoped it would.”

  "Billy seems irresponsible and laid back, but it doesn't look like he could have killed Brenna. He wasn’t passionately in love with her, and he seems far too chilled out for a potential killer."

  "Of course, he could just be a good actor."

  "Maybe," Ian said. "But it doesn't always have to be the spouse. It’s either love or money, isn't that what mos
t murders are about?"

  I nodded. "So, if it's not love, it must be money."

  "Give me a laptop," Ian said. "This is the second reality show that Brenna's been on. Maybe something happened on Ready, Aim, Cook–I think the show got canceled after one season, but maybe Brenna found out something about the people on that show."

  Chapter 26

  I waited while Ian typed rapidly into the laptop, and navigated through various web pages. Finally, he turned to me with a frown on his face. "Look at this. It's a list of everyone who ever worked on Ready, Aim, Cook–and it turns out there are two people from that show who are working on Zombie Cash Run. Kyle consulted for Ready, Aim, Cook, and Bruce was the cameraman."

  I set my mouth in a grim line. "It's high time we talked to Kyle and Bruce again."

  When Ian and I turned up at the Riverbelle Casino, it was almost 3 o'clock.

  "I'm hungry," Ian said, as we walked up to the reception desk. "We haven't eaten anything since those cookies at breakfast. It's lunchtime, so don't you think we should stop for lunch?"

  "Let's talk to Kyle first," I said. “And then, we can have some lunch here. We can even hit up one of the buffets."

  Ian didn't seem all that thrilled by the prospect of having to put off lunch another thirty minutes. "But I'm hungreee."

  It felt like I was dealing with a toddler; I should have probably started carrying around snack bars in my handbag.

  "I'm hungry too," I told him. "But I'm a bit annoyed that we missed the fact that Kyle and Bruce worked with Brenna before this show."

  We'd reached the reception desk by now, and I turned to the pretty blonde who was manning the desk. "We're here to see Kyle Chandlers. Could you please ring his room and let him know we’re here?"

  She rang his room, but after a while, she hung up and turned to us. "He's not answering, I don't think he's in. Was he expecting you?"

  I shook my head. "I'll just call his cell phone."

  I walked away to a quiet space in the lobby, but when I dialed Kyle's cell phone number, it rang about twelve times, before finally being answered by a woman with a strong British accent.

  "Kyle Chandlers’ residence, this is Margaret."

  I was confused for a minute. "I thought I dialed Kyle’s cell phone number."

  "It's been diverted to his home. He's not in at the moment. Can I take a message?"

  Kyle must've been trying to act like he was still in LA. He was probably trying not to let people know that he was actually stuck in Vegas for a few days.

  "It's Tiffany Black, and I'd appreciate a call back."

  I hung up, and had just finished relaying what had happened to Ian, when my cell phone buzzed. It was Kyle.

  "I got diverted to your home in LA," I told him when I answered.

  I could hear his smile across the line. "I had to do that. You know how people get–well, you don't know, but I guess I've been complaining about it often enough."

  "Ian and I were hoping to talk to you."

  "Can we do this over the phone? I booked myself a trip to the Hoover Dam, and I won't be back ‘til late. I've met some people here, and we’re going to have dinner together."

  It’s impossible to read someone’s body language over the phone, so I preferred to talk to people in person. I didn't think Kyle was hiding anything intentionally–he'd already mentioned being bad with faces, and he'd probably only met Brenna for a few seconds, if at all, on Ready, Aim, Cook.

  "That's okay," I said. "It's nothing urgent, we can come by and talk to you tomorrow."

  After I hung up, Ian grinned at me. "Can we have lunch now?"

  I smiled back. "Yeah, I'm pretty hungry too."

  Ian and I headed over to one of the many buffets in the casino, and Ian found an online two-for-one voucher we could use. Because it was almost three o'clock, the buffet wasn't as crowded as it normally would be, and Ian and I were able to help ourselves to all the food we wanted.

  I was just loading up my plate with fried rice and beef in oyster sauce, when I spotted a familiar face sitting at one of the tables. I waved, and when Ian and I were done loading up our plates, we headed over.

  "Nanna! What are you doing here? And where's Wes?"

  "I came with some friends to play the slots, then Wes decided to go and visit Glenn and Karma, and my friends decided to go off to watch a male revue. I've had enough of those shows for a bit, so I thought I'd have a long lunch by myself. These buffets are great for people watching."

  "And I got a two for one voucher!" Ian said. "Too bad you're eating here by yourself."

  "That's okay, I get the seniors discount anyway."

  Ian, Nanna and I chatted a bit about the various discounts locals could get when they went out, and then Nanna asked how the case was going. We filled her in on our latest finding–that Bruce, Kyle and Brenna had worked on a show together before.

  "You might be reading too much into it," Nanna said. "If Brenna was eliminated in the preliminary round of Ready, Aim, Cook, she most likely wouldn't have said more than a brief hello to Bruce and Kyle."

  "You're probably right," I said, "and Kyle was the one who insisted that Dave hire us. But Bruce has been avoiding us from the start–I'm absolutely sure now that he's hiding something."

  "And what about Brenna's ex-boyfriend?"

  I told her about Steve and Billy, and then, I noticed Ian waving madly in the direction of the buffet. I followed his glance, and grinned. Dave noticed us, waved back, and came to join us at the table.

  "I thought you two would be off hunting down suspects," he joked. "Unless this lovely lady is a suspect?"

  Nanna beamed, and Ian said, "This is Tiffany's nanna."

  "I would never have guessed," Dave said. "You look far too young to be anyone's nanna."

  "And you're far too nice to work in Hollywood," Nanna said. "It's too bad about your show."

  Dave nodded, and then he looked at me. "Did you find anything new or useful?"

  I hesitated, and decided that we should probably keep our findings a secret for now. "Not really. But we need to talk to Bruce. He’s not staying in the casino, is he?"

  Dave's face darkened. "No, he’s staying with a friend of his in North Vegas. You'll probably find him there–unless he's out bothering someone else."

  Nanna said, "What do you mean, bothering someone else?"

  Dave glanced at Nanna, and I said quickly, "Nanna's good at keeping secrets. She knows everything we work on, and she helps us out sometimes."

  At that last sentence, Nanna beamed. "I sure do."

  I forced myself not to roll my eyes. What I hadn't said, was that Nanna usually helped out against my wishes–all too often, she'd join us just when a killer had decided to attack.

  But Dave seemed to think that Nanna was trustworthy, and he let out a loud sigh. "I might as well tell you guys. I'm really annoyed with Bruce."

  I nodded sympathetically. "It must be hard, having to shut down all work just because he decided to call in sick."

  Dave laughed bitterly. "Oh, he's not sick. He said he wouldn't work until we sorted this out. You see, Bruce is blackmailing me."

  My eyebrows shot up. "About what?"

  "He found out about me and Taylor, and he recorded it. He threatened to go public with the info, and said that he'd ruin my reputation–he’d let everyone know that I wasn’t impartial when it came to selecting candidates for my shows. He’s right, that kind of headline would probably ruin my career."

  "But how did he find out? I thought your relationship with Taylor was a complete secret."

  Dave nodded. "It was. But that guy must have a sixth sense for things like this. He managed to record the two of us together–he's got all kinds of footage."

  I leaned back in my chair and watched Dave carefully. "Do you think he’s working alone?"

  Dave nodded. "As far as I can tell. I've known most everyone else who’s on the set, and I don't think they'd be trying to take me down."

  "Maybe that's why he's bee
n avoiding us," Ian said.

  "Maybe," I said thoughtfully. "He doesn't sound like a very nice person."

  "What are you going to do about this?" Ian said.

  Dave shook his head. "I'm not going to pay him off, that's for sure."

  "You shouldn't pay him," Nanna said. "If you pay off a blackmailer once, they just keep coming at you."

  Dave nodded. "That's what I figure. I've told him to do his best, and I'm going to fire him from the show and get another head cameraman. He can go public with this, but at this stage, I feel like I might as well cancel the show and try something else. And who knows, if we get this whole thing sorted out and the show up and running again, it might end up being a success–and then no one will pay attention to Bruce."

  A wave of sympathy washed over me. "It's a brutal business."

  Dave nodded. "I shouldn't have gotten Taylor onto the show, but I don't have the patience to deal with people like Bruce."

  "People like Bruce," I repeated slowly. "Have you ever been blackmailed before?"

  Dave smiled and shook his head. "No, and thank God for small favors."

  "I thought any news was good news," Nanna said. "Maybe this kind of thing could give you some notoriety and it’d actually make people want to work with you."

  Dave shrugged. "I'm hoping Bruce doesn't actually go and make this public. It couldn’t be good for his career either, if he gets known to be a blackmailer."

  Ian frowned. “If he's blackmailing you now, he must've done this before."

  Dave looked at Ian thoughtfully. "He does seem awfully sure about himself."

  “And he might not be working alone."

  Dave shook his head. "I can't imagine that anyone else in my crew would be trying to sabotage the show like this."

  "It’s hard to know the truth about people,” I said vaguely. Dave was adamant about wanting to believe that his crew were all nice people, but I wasn’t so sure.

  My phone and Ian’s buzzed simultaneously; we’d each gotten a text.

  “What is it?” Nanna said.

  “It’s from the LVMPD,” Ian said. “I’m free to leave Vegas if I want, because I’ve got an alibi for Brenna’s death.”