A.R. Winters - Tiffany Black 03 - Red Roses in Las Vegas

by A. R. Winters

  “You were there? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian looked at me mournfully. “Nothing exciting ever happens to me.”

  “I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” I said. “There’s not much to tell.”

  Nanna was looking at me funny, and I knew she’d quiz me later about what I was doing when a man was being murdered.

  “Anyone can run when they need to,” Wilson said. “Besides, you said you never heard the killer’s voice clearly, and it could’ve been anyone.”

  I looked at him, and nodded reluctantly.

  “Ma’am,” said Wilson, turning to Nanna again, “We found your prints in Adam’s office.”

  “I went to see him that afternoon.”

  “And what were you doing between twelve midnight and one a.m. on Friday?”

  Nanna took a deep breath. “I was at The Tremonte Casino. You can see me on the video footage.”

  Elwood and Wilson exchanged a glance. Elwood looked visibly relieved and said to Nanna, “We’re sorry to have bothered you. I hope you won’t mention this to my aunt?”

  Nanna and Wilson both looked sternly at Elwood and, after a few awkward seconds, the two detectives said their goodbyes and left.

  “That was interesting,” Ian said, once they were gone. The three of us had come back into the living room and were standing around thoughtfully. “How come you were there at the murder scene?”

  “I wasn’t there, exactly,” I said slowly, and looked at Nanna. “So, you were in the casino the entire time?”

  Nanna looked at me and I noticed she’d gone slightly pale. “Uh. Now that I think about it… I was in the casino the whole night. But…”

  I felt my mouth go dry. “But what?”

  “I stepped out for a walk just after twelve.”

  We stared at each other, wide-eyed.

  Chapter Six

  Ian broke the silence. “So, you killed this guy?”

  “Of course not,” I snapped. And then I turned to Nanna. “You didn’t, right?”

  She shook her head. “No, I just went out to clear my head. I walked up and down the Strip. It was a tough game that night.”

  “Did anyone else see you?”

  She shook her head and I sank down onto a sofa.

  “You don’t think I’ll be in trouble, do you?” Nanna asked, and I stared at the floor and shook my head.

  “I hope not.”

  “Maybe she killed the guy,” Ian said hopefully. “You can tell us the truth. We can’t help you if we don’t know the truth.”

  I glared at Ian and looked at Nanna again. I’d been there that night, and the footsteps had sounded pretty heavy when the killer had run away, but still, you don’t want to annoy my Nanna. “You didn’t really kill him, did you?”

  Nanna shook her head, no. “What do I do now?”

  “You get a lawyer,” I said, “And hope that the cops find another, better suspect.”

  “You can use my lawyer,” Ian said. “He’s the best. Or maybe I can look stuff up online, like how to defend yourself when the cops think you’re a murderer.”

  Ian jabbered on about the justice system, the police, jail, and lawyers, while I went through the motions of helping Nanna. I was trying not to panic and, judging by stoic look on Nanna’s face, so was she.

  While Nanna made a few well-placed phone calls, I dragged Ian out of the room with me and filled my parents in on what had happened. When we returned to the living room a few minutes later, Nanna had gotten herself a lawyer – Chris Appleby, her friend Gayle’s son, who worked in a law firm downtown.

  “You met him once, a few years back,” Nanna told me. “He’s a little overweight, balding, divorced – your mother tried to set you two up.”

  I shook my head. My mom introduced me to new, “wonderful” men every other day, and I’d lost track of who I’d met.

  After she’d decided to hire Chris, Nanna forced me to recount the events of Friday night. My parents were both standing there, looking at me sternly, so I gave everyone the same version I’d told the police.

  “What kind of man takes you to an office on a first date?” asked my mother. “I don’t think this Jack sounds like a very nice guy.”

  “Uh…”

  “Although,” she said, brightening up, “At least you’ve got yourself a boyfriend! That’s good news. What does he do?”

  Everyone was staring at me expectantly, and I said, “Well, I wouldn’t really call him my boyfriend. He’s more like a friend, now. I don’t think I’ll see him again.”

  “That’s not right,” my mother said. “Just because you witnessed a murder on the first date doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see him again. Maybe I misjudged him, maybe he thinks offices are romantic.”

  She looked confused, trying to justify a strange man’s penchant for offices.

  “We should go,” I said to Ian quickly, before Mom could quiz me anymore. “I don’t have all day. I need to run some errands and then get to my shift.”

  I dragged Ian out while my parents stared after us, looking slightly worried. They seemed to assume that Nanna would be fine, despite being a murder suspect, but I was the troublesome one because of my dubious dating preferences.

  “You know you have to help Nanna,” Ian said as I drove south along the Vegas freeway. “You’re a private investigator. You need to investigate this mess. Prove she’s innocent, and all that.”

  I focused on the road and slid over to a different lane. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Why not? She’s your nanna. You need to help her.”

  “I’m helping her by not getting involved. The lawyer can do his job, and this’ll blow over soon. It’s not like she’s a big suspect. She’s a sweet little old lady and the cops’ll find their man, soon enough.”

  “But you’re an investigator. You’re meant to investigate.”

  “I’ll just make things worse if I get involved now.”

  Ian ranted on about helping family and saving the day, but I stuck to my guns. I didn’t want to annoy the detectives by poking my nose in, and I needed to let them do their jobs.

  A few hours later, I was in The Treasury, stepping in behind a blackjack table. I clapped my hands out, indicating that I wasn’t holding any chips or cards, and started to deal. The warmth of the casino surrounded me like a security blanket. This was a world away from Nanna’s troubles, and it was my home for the next eight hours. Security cameras blinked away on the ceiling and strobe lights and sirens went off every now and then, indicating a big winner at the progressive slot machines. Players chattered, cocktail waitresses hovered around, and casino security watched from a distance.

  I allowed myself to drift into my zombie-like dealer state, as I dealt cards, calculated pay outs and made friendly conversation with the players. I didn’t need to concentrate completely unless there was a player being a complete jerk at the tables, and I used this opportunity to ponder my life and wonder idly about who might’ve killed Adam Bitzer.

  On my first break, I checked my messages and found a text from Ian: You really shud help Nanna.

  I texted back. No need. Cops’ll find the real killer easily. This’ll blow over soon.

  I was wrong, of course.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, I was sleeping off my late shift when my phone rang.

  “Tiffany,” said Nanna, sounding serious, “I need your help.”

  The sleepiness slid off me immediately. My eyes opened wider, and I pushed myself up into a sitting position. “What’s going on?”

  I’d come home to my tiny, off-Strip condo just a few hours ago, and had fallen asleep within minutes. But now I was bright-eyed and alert as I listened to Nanna.

  She said, “They arrested me yesterday evening, after you left. But Rupert let my lawyer come along and bail me out immediately.”

  I let it sink in for a minute. “They arrested you?”

  “Yes, they think I killed Adam Bitzer.”

  “That’s crazy!” N
anna was silent on the other end of the line, and I said, “Why would they think that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And you’re out on bail now?”

  “Yes, my lawyer bailed me out straight away. But he might not be able to do that, next time.”

  Her voice sounded small and far away, and I said, “There won’t be a next time.” My voice sounded harsher than I’d intended, so I took a deep breath. “Why?”

  “Rupert said he was really sorry, but I’m the chief suspect. No alibi, motive, and apparently anyone can get a gun. They searched the house.”

  “Did they find anything?”

  “No, but your mother’s been vacuuming since the moment they left.”

  I smiled for a moment.

  Nanna continued. “My lawyer says to plead self-defense.”

  “He sounds like an idiot.”

  “No. He says they’ve got no other suspects, that’s why I’m it.”

  I believed that. I expected Rupert – Elwood – would be too scared of his aunt to arrest Nanna otherwise.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I told Nanna. “Maybe I’ll stop by the house later.”

  We hung up, and I looked down at my phone. I needed to think, and I needed food. I helped myself to a breakfast cupcake and coffee, but the mists in my brain refused to clear out. I took a long shower, cleaned out my bathroom, and thought about doing laundry, but none of those things helped me figure out what to do. I needed to talk to someone, I decided, and was just about to head downstairs when there was a knock on the door.

  “What’re you doing here?” I stared out at Nanna, and then glanced at Stone, who was standing beside her.

  “Is this any way to greet your nanna?” she asked, pushing her way past me and entering the condo. She made a big show of wrinkling her nose and said, “Peuh! No wonder you don’t invite us over!”

  “I was just about to vacuum,” I said, glancing around. The place wasn’t really mess – sure, there was some junk piled up on the coffee table, and I could see some of my dark brown hairs standing out against the lighter carpet, waiting to be sucked up by the vacuum, but by my standards it was pretty decent. “Come in,” I said to Stone, and indicated the sofa. “What’re you two doing together?”

  I glanced from Nanna to Stone suspiciously. They’re not the most usual of couples – Nanna is short, thin and wrinkled, with sweet blue eyes and thinning white hair; Stone is an ex-Special Forces guy, with a tall, muscular physique and dark brooding eyes. Nanna was wearing a paisley-print dress, and Stone was wearing his constant uniform of crisp white shirt, dark jeans, and freakishly shiny black dress shoes.

  Stone’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement as he sat down on the couch, and I felt my eyebrows start to knit together. The two them being together couldn’t possibly be a good thing. Stone hardly ever shows any emotions, and that look of amusement was extremely suspect: Nanna had probably just been telling him embarrassing stories about me.

  “Why are you both here?” I repeated, glancing from Stone to Nanna and back again. “Has she been telling you stuff about me? Don’t believe anything she says when I’m not there.”

  “Tiffany!” said Nanna. “What kind of talk is that, about your own nanna, when I’m standing right here? Are you calling me a liar?”

  “Hmm.” I looked at her suspiciously. I wouldn’t put much beyond her.

  “Of course we weren’t talking about you,” Nanna said, winking broadly at Stone.

  A hint of a smile was emerging on Stone’s face, making the corners of his mouth twitch, and I groaned. “What’re you doing here, anyway?” I asked Nanna.

  “Things at your parents’ were getting a bit uncomfortable,” she said. “Your mother keeps crying and talking about me going to jail for the rest of my life and people who threaten financial advisors. She’s all doom and gloom. And, on top of that, we’re getting all these ‘concerned’ phone calls from her friends, and I don’t need to talk to them. I’m going to stay here tonight.”

  I looked at Stone. The smile hadn’t quite appeared on his face, but he still looked amused. I glanced down and noticed, for the first time, the massive duffel bag by his feet.

  “Is that yours?” I asked Nanna, and she nodded.

  “I brought along my laptop, because I know yours takes two hours to start up.”

  I started to protest, but then I stopped. She was right.

  “You gave her a lift?” I asked Stone, who nodded. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble?”

  “I was in the area,” he said lightly. I didn’t quite believe him, but it was nice to see him again.

  “I thought you were overseas or something?”

  “Job ended early. Got back this morning.”

  I looked at him doubtfully. That was the most I’ve ever heard of him talk about work. I don’t know much beyond that Stone runs a security company. I don’t want to know, either – for all I know, he might be a government-contracted hitman. He certainly knows the right people for that job, and he looks like one, too. Not that I’ve met a government-contracted hitman before, it’s just that I assume they’d be like Stone – strong, silent and potentially deadly.

  Nanna was rifling through my fridge. “This is terrible. There’s nothing in here, how can you live like this?”

  I shrugged. Takeout, McDonalds, and casino food, mainly. Supplemented by my friend Glenn’s cupcakes.

  “I’m going to go shopping,” Nanna declared. “You need some decent food. You can’t just survive on peanut butter and pickles.”

  “Sure I can. You mean you can’t.”

  Nanna frowned at me and was about to say something, when I interrupted. “What’re you doing going through my fridge, anyway? Don’t you have better things to worry about?” She gave me a blank look, and I spoke slowly. “Like being accused of murder?”

  Nanna laughed. “Of course not. I’m not worried about that. Now that I know you’re on the case, I can sleep easy. You’ll find out who did it, lickety-spit, and then I can go back to my poker playing.”

  I sat down on the chair opposite my sofa and put my head in my heads. “I can’t believe this. Do you not understand how serious this is?”

  “Pshaw,” said Nanna. “I didn’t do it, so why should I worry? I know you’re a really good PI and you’ll find the real murderer in no time.”

  I looked up at her in despair. Nanna stared back at me sweetly, her good-natured face full of hope and faith. It worried me just how much she believed in me, so I looked at Stone instead. He was looking at me seriously now, and he seemed to understand how I felt.

  “I’m not that good,” I said to Nanna. “What if I fail?”

  “You won’t fail,” she said. “And besides, even if you do, I’ll go on trial, and then the jury’ll see what a sweet little old lady I am, and they’ll let me off.”

  “The cops didn’t think you were a sweet little old lady.”

  Nanna made a derisive noise. “Cops. What do they know? Not much, let me tell you. Besides, you won’t fail. You’ll find the real murderer, like you’ve always done.”

  “Right. Like in the two whole cases I’ve solved before.” Nanna started to look a little worried, and I sighed. I didn’t like it when she was complacent and rummaging through my food, but I hated it when she was worried. So I said, “Never mind. I’ll find out who did it. You can relax. You won’t go on trial because someone else will.”

  “That’s my girl!” said Nanna. “I knew I could count on you.”

  I looked at Stone and thought I caught a glimmer of sympathy in his dark, piercing eyes.

  “What’re your plans for right now?” he said.

  I was about to answer him when my phone rang.

  Chapter Eight

  “Emily,” I said, answering the phone in a rush of relief. “I was just going to call you.”

  “I thought so,” she said. “I heard about your nanna.”

  “Are you at work?”

  “Nope, I have today off.”


  Emily Sinclair is one of my closest friends in Vegas. We’ve known each other since before I started training to be a PI, and now that I am a PI, she’s supportive of my career, despite the fact that she’s an LVMPD detective.

  “Oh, good.” I paused. “How’ve you been?”

  “The usual. Busy.”

  “Are you seeing anyone?” I asked.

  “Nope, but I heard you went out with Jack.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Elwood.”

  “Right.”

  “Heard it didn’t go so well,” she said.

  “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”

  There was an awkward pause, as I tried to figure out how to ask Emily about the investigation, but she was the one to plunge in first.

  “I heard about your nanna being arrested,” she said, “But you know I can’t talk about an open case. It’s not my case, anyway.”

  “I know,” I said. “I understand. But is there anything at all that you can tell me?”

  There was a pause and then Emily said, “It doesn’t look good. She’s got motive, means and opportunity.”

  “Motive. I get that, even though they’re totally not understanding what Nanna meant when she talked to that guy. Adam Bitzer. But means?”

  “Anyone can fire a gun. Ballistics can’t match the trace with anything in our system, and we’re assuming it’s an unregistered weapon that was disposed of later.”

  I sighed. Not being able to match a weapon against Nanna should’ve been a positive, but at this stage it was more like a neutral. “But what about getting into the building?”

  “Adam buzzed someone in a couple of minutes before his death.”

  “And you think it was Nanna.”

  “It was someone he knew and wasn’t scared of.”

  “Hang on, aren’t you saying he was scared of Nanna?”

  “You know what I mean. Not physically scared.”

  “Right. And that brings us to opportunity.”

  “Exactly.”

  I frowned and thought over her words. What she’d just told me wasn’t much help, but still. At least now I knew where we stood. It was a start. “Thanks for telling me all this,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”