Reality Check in Las Vegas: A Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 5)

by AR Winters

  “I guess s—”

  The door burst open, and Sam and Simone raced in, followed by Karma, who was trying to keep up with them. They were all dressed in bright summer clothes, and Karma was red in the face and panting.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, looking from me to Lana. “You’re Lana Fierst! Omigod, I’m such a huge fan! The kids’ve been running around and I can’t keep up with them. I’m so sorry about this.”

  She paused to take a breath. Sam and Simone went up to Lana and stared at her with round eyes.

  “Your hair’s really big,” said Simone, and then she caught a glimpse of Lana’s rings. “Wow! Your rings are so pretty!”

  Lana smiled gracefully. “Thank you, darling.” She looked at me and said, “So these are the people you wanted the passes for?”

  Before I could answer, Simone reached out and grabbed a muffin from the basket. “What’re these? Are they chocolate?”

  “They’re not for you, sweetie,” said Karma, coming forward. She looked like she was at her wits’ end, trying to keep the kids out of trouble.

  Simone bit into it before we could stop her, and chewed it up. “Ew!” she said after she swallowed her mouthful. “This is gross!”

  She took another bite, swallowed, and said, “Yep. So gross.”

  “So gross,” repeated Sam, looking up at his big sister adoringly. “Gross.”

  “It’s not chocolate.” Simone crossed her arms accusatorily and looked from Lana to Karma to me.

  “That’s why you don’t eat food you’re not offered,” Karma said, grabbing hold of Simone’s arm and tossing the half-eaten muffin into the trash. “For all you know, it could’ve been poisoned.”

  My throat caught, and I looked at Lana, wild-eyed. “You’re sure those muffins are from Gordon?”

  “Says here, right on the note.”

  As if on cue, Simone began coughing violently. We looked at her, terrified, and then she ran up to the trash can and retched violently.

  Within seconds, we’d called the paramedics, and they were at Simone’s side.

  My heart pounded wildly as I watched the little girl, and I tried to stop my hands from trembling by crossing my arms across my chest.

  “It’s only two bites,” explained one of the paramedics, “But she’s so little, the poison’s affected her fast. She’s doing much better now.”

  Karma stood huddled with Sam, in one corner of the room. The paramedics had laid Simone out on a stretcher, checked her pulse and breathing, and given her something that made her throw up again.

  “We’ve probably gotten it all out of her system,” explained a paramedic. “But we want to give her a saline solution and monitor her.”

  Karma nodded, her expression stoic. She looked more terrified than I’d ever seen her, and Sam looked like he was trying to hold back tears. “We’ll go to the hospital with you,” Karma said, and then she turned to Sam. “It’s all a big adventure, Sammy. Simone’s going to be fine. We’re just going to visit somewhere else, all together.”

  Karma’s voice was high-pitched with fake enthusiasm, and Sam nodded, his eyes round and scared.

  “You can come on another tour tomorrow,” Lana said, trying to keep up with the positive vibe. She handed Karma a set of three backstage passes, and we watched them all leave.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Lana, once it was just the two of us again. “Why’d Gordon send you these?”

  “Maybe someone got to them later,” Lana said.

  I shook my head. “I don’t trust that guy.”

  Lana looked at me insistently. “He’s my lover. He would never—”

  There was a knock on the door, and then Ian and Gordon walked in.

  “What’s going on?” Gordon’s eyes were panicked, and he rushed over to Lana and cupped her face in his hands. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  “No, honey,” said Lana, removing his hands gently. “But it was a nice gesture.”

  “What gesture?”

  “The muffins. Someone must’ve gotten to them after you sent them over.”

  Gordon looked at the muffin basket and shook his head. “I never sent you any muffins, sweetie. I don’t know who they’re from.”

  “And what’re you doing here?” I asked Ian.

  He looked bleary-eyed and tired.

  “I wanted to sleep,” he said. “But I kept having nightmares about someone trying to stab me. And then I woke up with a great big zit. This PI business is giving me bad skin.”

  “You’ll be fine,” I said, turning to Lana and Gordon again. “Why would someone say the muffins were from you?”

  “Trying to incriminate me?” Gordon suggested. “You know I’d never hurt Lana.”

  I bit my lip thoughtfully. Gordon was wearing a gray hoodie today, and I said, “Do you usually wear that hoodie?”

  He gave me a funny look. “Yeah, it’s supposed to be one of my signature looks. You know, laid back but still hot. My stylist told me to wear it.”

  I took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. Maybe someone was trying to incriminate Gordon. Maybe wearing a gray hoodie was all part of the stalker’s plan.

  Lana said, “I’m supposed to be on the air with Channel 29 in a few minutes. Why don’t you guys go somewhere else? I need to get in the zone.”

  “I need to stay with you,” said Ian. “I’m supposed to be your bodyguard here.”

  “Fine,” said Lana, rolling her eyes dramatically. “As long as you don’t cough or sneeze or breathe.”

  “I’ll try,” said Ian. He pulled a chair close to the door and sat down. “I’ll watch over you, till they’re back.”

  Gordon and I headed out together. I stopped by the break room first, looking for Linda, but once again, she had disappeared.

  “Let’s hang out in my room,” Gordon suggested.

  I looked at him skeptically. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, and I didn’t want to end up kissing him by accident.

  I said, “We need to stop by reception first.”

  Gordon flashed me a dazzling smile. “You’re the boss.”

  I smiled back at him, hoping that mine was a professional smile and not a flirtatious one. “Follow me.”

  I waited in line at reception till we got a chance to talk to Stuart, who was manning the desk. “Did someone stop by this morning with a delivery for Lana Fierst?” I asked.

  He checked his computer and said, “Yep.”

  “Did you handle it?”

  “No, that would be Rachel.” He called out to a girl who seemed to be just getting back from her break. “Hey, Rach, didn’t you keep something for Lana Fierst this morning?”

  “Yeah.” Rachel was a brunette with shaggy shoulder-length hair. She glanced at me and Gordon, and batted her eyes at Gordon. “Someone stopped by with a muffin basket.”

  “What did they look like?” I said, trying to ignore the way Gordon was smirking back at Rachel.

  “Guy in a gray hoodie,” said Rachel. “Black baseball cap, big-framed hipster sunglasses. Beard.”

  I sighed. That was an effective deterrent against casino security. The facial recognition system would never find a match against someone who was hiding half their face.

  “This is my card,” said Gordon, fishing one out of his wallet and sliding it across the counter. “Let me know if you think of anything. I’m staying upstairs, by the way.”

  He gave her a wink, and Rachel blushed and pocketed his card.

  I rolled my eyes, wondering if Lana found his constant flirting annoying, and we headed back to his room in the studios.

  “What now?” said Gordon.

  “Don’t you have any plans for today?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. Most afternoons we do auditions, then at night we do touch-ups. Mornings we check to make sure the last night was okay, or we sleep in. Sometimes I do interviews like Lana’s doing now, or sometimes, you know. I say goodbye to some girls.”

  I tried not to look like a prud
e. “I can’t believe Lana’s okay with you and all your fans.”

  “Hey, it’s a brave new world. It’s not like she can settle down with some guy, and it’s not like I want to. So we suit each other.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “And what about this stalker? D’you have any ideas who it might be?”

  Gordon shook his head. “Beats me. We get random psychos in show business, sometimes.”

  “It could be someone on the staff,” I suggested. “Someone who went and got Lana a basket of muffins.”

  Gordon looked skeptical. “I don’t think anyone on staff hates Lana that much.”

  I thought back to the first day when Ian and I had met the crew, and the floor assistants had complained about Lana making them run around so much. I noticed a vase of white roses sitting on the desk in Gordon’s room, and I thought suddenly of the assistant who’d had to deal with Lana’s demands for light pink roses.

  “What about Pam?” I said. She’d mentioned being tired of Lana’s demands, and if she wore a fake beard and a loose hoodie, she might be able to pass as a man on surveillance cameras. “Pam gives Lana attitude every time Lana needs something.”

  “It can’t be Pam,” said Gordon. “Lana said the attacks started happening in New York, right? Well, Pam wasn’t working for the studio at that time. She joined us in the next city.”

  “Oh.” I tried not to look too crestfallen, and I racked my brain, trying to think of something else to ask. But in the end, I wound up asking him how he got into this business, and how he liked it.

  I listened to his stories absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was going on. But I was getting nowhere.

  Gordon finished telling me a particularly funny story about a journalist who refused to interview him unless he went on a date with her, and how he finally convinced her to meet him for a dinner date/interview that went horribly wrong.

  I said, “And what do you say when they ask why you haven’t got a girlfriend? Do you tell them that you’re not ready to settle down?”

  “God, no,” said Gordon. “My agent would hate that! I have to tell everyone that I’m just dying to get married and have kids, but I haven’t found the right person yet. So that way, everyone’s happy. Even the girls I kick out in the morning. They know what they’re getting into. I tell them I’ll call them, but I never do.”

  I nodded thoughtfully. “You know,” I said slowly. “Whoever’s targeting Lana might be expanding their sights. That basket of muffins—they were clearly trying to get you into trouble, too, by saying it was from you. And the gray hoodie…”

  Gordon frowned. “What’re you trying to say?”

  “I’m not sure. But if both you and Lana are in trouble… the only thing that ties you together is that you’re having an affair.”

  “So that means whoever sent the muffins knows I’m sleeping with Lana?”

  I nodded. “They must. And they probably don’t like it. Which is why they’re trying to kill Lana, and maybe pass the blame onto you.”

  “I can’t just stop sleeping with her. I love when she g—”

  “Lalala!” I said, sticking my hands over my ears. “I don’t want to hear it!”

  Gordon gave me a funny look. “Making love is a beautiful thing.”

  “I’m sure it is,” I agreed. “But I don’t need all the details.”

  “Are you saying I should end things with Lana?”

  “I’m not sure that would be any help, at this stage. But if you two are already in trouble, maybe I should add myself to the mix. Maybe we can draw out this murderous guy in the hoodie by using some bait.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I called Ian to find out what Lana was doing and he said, “She’s finished with a radio interview and now we’re back in her hotel suite so she can exercise. She says she’s about to exercise for two hours. Is that possible? Will she want me to join in?”

  I made a face. “I’m sure it’s possible, but not for you and me.”

  “Then I’m going to tell her I can’t join. She says she’ll do spin.”

  I smiled at the image of Ian panting away on a spin bike and said, “I’m sure she doesn’t have an extra bike for you to use. Don’t worry about it.”

  After I hung up, I turned to Gordon. I told him my plan to smoke out Lana’s stalker, and he nodded.

  “Piece of cake,” he said. “And I’m sure you’ll have fun, too.”

  “This is just business,” I reminded him, and gave him my hand to hold.

  We walked out of his room, hand in hand, and then after some time, he slipped his arm around my waist. We wandered over to the production room and watched the editors discussing last night’s audition. As we watched, Tim rushed in with some files that needed to be signed, and then rushed out again. There wasn’t anything for Gordon to do in the production room, so we went over to the staff cafeteria, where Pam was refilling a tray of sandwiches.

  She smiled when she saw Gordon and me. “These are cucumber,” she said, “and these ones are chicken salad sandwiches.”

  “They look delicious,” I told her and reached for a sandwich. “Are there any cupcakes here?”

  Pam pointed to an empty tray in the desserts section. “I’m afraid they’re all finished.”

  A male voice called out to her, saying something about files that needed to be delivered upstairs, and Pam left to talk to him.

  “I shouldn’t be eating these sandwiches,” Gordon told me. “I’m supposed to be on a diet.”

  “Everyone’s supposed to be on a diet,” I grumbled. “Nobody appreciates food anymore.”

  “I don’t mind dieting,” Gordon said. “I get paid to look good.”

  “I guess it’s worth it, then. I just get paid to be a dealer, and they still expect me to lose weight.”

  Gordon shrugged. “If it’s worth it, you do it. If not, you tell ’em to shove it.”

  I laughed, wishing life were that simple.

  We popped into the break room opposite Lana’s room before heading out to the casino.

  Linda was in there again, and I said, “Hey, you’re still here.”

  She glanced at me humorlessly. “Yep.”

  “Don’t tell me, you’re waiting for Aaron.” She didn’t reply to that, so I said, “Did you hear about Lana getting almost poisoned to death?”

  Linda snorted. “The stupid, self-centered diva. I wish she’d just die already and make my life easier.”

  I froze, and stared at her. Was she behind all this? Slowly, I said, “So you’re the one trying to kill Lana.”

  Linda looked at me like I’d gone insane. “What? No. Of course not, I don’t have time for that.”

  Just then, we heard footsteps approaching, and there was a knock on the door to Lana’s studio across the hall. Linda jumped out of her seat, eyes blazing, hands balled into fists. She stalked across the room, over to the person who’d knocked on Lana’s door, and hissed, “There you are, you smarmy cheating bastard.”

  Aaron turned around. He looked at his wife, eyes wide with surprise, and glanced at us briefly before focusing his gaze on Linda again. “No, I can explain. It’s not what you think.”

  His face was slowly changing color, and a pink hue crept along his neck and up to his cheeks.

  “Oh, yeah?” countered Linda. Her voice was cold with barely contained rage, and she took a step backward, as though she was afraid she’d launch herself at Aaron in fury. “This is exactly what it looks like. I see you sneaking out, never talking to me. I knew you were having an affair. Then I noticed you keep coming down to the judges’ rooms when I’m not there.”

  “No, no—” Aaron protested, holding up one hand, but Linda steamrolled him and went on.

  “I knew you were having an affair with Lana but I wanted to have proof before I said anything. Well, now I’ve got proof. I’m done with you.”

  “It’s not what it looks—”

  The door to Lana’s studio
opened, and Carlos peered out at us, blinking slowly. “Hey guys,” he said. “What’s going on?”

  Linda looked at Carlos, half-disgusted, half-disbelieving. “What’re you doing here?”

  Carlos gazed back at her with equanimity. “The same thing as you.”

  “No,” said Aaron, “Not the same thing as her.”

  He pushed his way into the room, and Linda followed. Before Carlos could close the door on us, Gordon and I rushed inside. Carlos closed the door shut, and the place began to feel crowded. Linda half-leaned against Lana’s table, near the far end of the room, and Gordon and I stood near the door. Carlos went and lay down on Lana’s couch, and Aaron stood near Linda, shifting awkwardly from one foot to another.

  “What’s going on?” said Linda, disbelief mixed in with the anger in her voice. “Why’s he here?”

  “I was supposed to meet him here,” said Carlos, as though that explained everything.

  Linda gulped and looked at Aaron with bulging eyes.

  Aaron took a step back and waved his hands no. “It’s not what you think!” he said.

  Linda looked from Aaron to Carlos, and then back to Aaron. “Then what…”

  “I waited for Lana to leave,” said Carlos, his eyes half-closed. “And then told Aaron to meet me here. It seemed safer.”

  “Safer how?” Carlos’s explanation made Linda look even more bewildered.

  Carlos sighed. “Because. You know, man. The other guys are on to me. I can’t let them be on to me.”

  “On to you how?” Linda glared at Carlos, her patience wearing thin. A muscle twitched in her jaw. And then she said, “Stop, never mind. Aaron, tell me what’s going on. What’re you doing here?”

  Aaron looked at Gordon and me and said, “Could we get some privacy, please?”

  I shook my head no. I was starting to get curious about what was going on, and besides, I needed to know if Linda had been trying to kill Lana. “I think we should stay,” I said. “We need to know what’s going on.”